Chapter CCCXCIX

[A favourite lullaby in the north of England fifty years ago,
and perhaps still heard. The last word is pronounced _bee_.]

Hush-a-bye, lie still and sleep,
It grieves me sore to see thee weep,
For when thou weep'st thou wearies me,
Hush-a-bye, lie still and _bye_.

CCCC.

[From _Yorkshire_ and _Essex_. A nursery-cry.--It is also
sometimes sung in the streets by boys who have small figures
of wool, wood, or gypsum, &c. of lambs to sell.]

Young Lambs to sell!
Young Lambs to sell!
If I'd as much money as I can tell,
I never would cry--Young Lambs to sell!

CCCCI.

[From _Yorkshire_. A nursery-cry.]

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit-Pie!
Come, my ladies, come and buy;
Else your babies they will cry.

CCCCII.

To market, to market,
To buy a plum cake;
Home again, home again,
Ne'er a one baked;
The baker is dead and all his men,
And we must go to market again.

CCCCIII.

Rock well my cradle,
And "bee baa," my son;
You shall have a new gown,
When ye lord comes home.

Oh! still my child, Orange,
Still him with a bell;
I can't still him, ladie,
Till you come down yoursell!

CCCCIV.

Where was a sugar and fretty?
And where was jewel and spicy?
Hush-a-bye, babe in a cradle,
And we'll go away in a tricy!

CCCCV.

I'll buy you a tartan bonnet,
And some feathers to put on it,
Tartan trews and a phillibeg,
Because you are so like your daddy.

THIRTEENTH CLASS--JINGLES.

CCCCVI.

[The first line of the following is the burden of a song in
the 'Tempest,' act i, sc. 2. and also of one in the 'Merchant
of Venice, act iii, sc. 2.]

Ding dong bell,
Pussy's in the well!
Who put her in?--
Little Tommy Lin.
Who pulled her out?--
Dog with long snout.
What a naughty boy was that
To drown poor pussy-cat,
Who never did any harm,
But kill'd the mice in his father's barn.

CCCCVII.

Hey ding a ding, what shall I sing?
How many holes in a skimmer?
Four and twenty,--my stomach is empty;
Pray, mamma, give me some dinner.

CCCCVIII.

Cock a doodle doo!
My dame has lost her shoe;
My master's lost his fiddling stick,
And don't know what to do.

Cock a doodle doo!
What is my dame to do?
Till master finds his fiddling stick,
She'll dance without her shoe.

Cock a doodle doo!
My dame has lost her shoe,
And master's found his fiddling stick,
Sing doodle doodle doo!

Cock a doodle doo!
My dame will dance with you,
While master fiddles his fiddling stick.
For dame and doodle doo.

Cock a doodle doo!
Dame has lost her shoe;
Gone to bed and scratch'd her head,
And can't tell what to do.

CCCCIX.

Diddledy, diddledy, dumpty;
The cat ran up the plum-tree.
I'll lay you a crown
I'll fetch you down;
So diddledy, diddledy, dumpty.

CCCCX.

Little Tee Wee,
He went to sea
In an open boat;
And while afloat
The little boat bended,
And my story's ended.

CCCCXI.

Sing, sing, what shall I sing?
The cat has eat the pudding-string;
Do, do, what shall I do?
The cat has bit it quite in two.

CCCCXII.

[I do not know whether the following may have reference to the
game of handy-dandy, mentioned in 'King Lear,' act iv, sc. 6,
and in Florio's 'New World of Words,' 1611, p. 57.]

Handy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy,
Loved plum-cake and sugar-candy;
He bought some at a grocer's shop,
And out he came, hop, hop, hop.

CCCCXIII.

Tiddle liddle lightum,
Pitch and tar;
Tiddle liddle lightum,
What's that for?

CCCCXIV.

Sing jigmijole, the pudding-bowl,
The table and the frame;
My master he did cudgel me
For speaking of my dame.

CCCCXV.

Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son John
Went to bed with his trowsers on;
One shoe off, the other shoe on,
Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son John.

CCCCXVI.

Dibbity, dibbity, dibbity, doe.
Give me a pancake
And I'll go.
Dibbity, dibbity, dibbity, ditter,
Please to give me
A bit of a fritter.

CCCCXVII.

Feedum, fiddledum fee,
The cat's got into the tree.
Pussy, come down,
Or I'll crack your crown,
And toss you into the sea.

CCCCXVIII.

Little Jack a Dandy
Wanted sugar-candy,
And fairly for it cried;
But little Billy Cook
Who always reads his book,
Shall have a horse to ride.

CCCCXIX.

Hyder iddle diddle dell,
A yard of pudding's not an ell;
Not forgetting tweedle-dye,
A tailor's goose will never fly.

CCCCXX.

Gilly Silly Jarter,
Who has lost a garter?
In a shower of rain,
The miller found it,
The miller ground it,
And the miller gave it to Silly again.

CCCCXXI.

Hub a dub dub,
Three men in a tub;
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick-maker;
Turn 'em out, knaves all three!

CCCCXXII.

Hey diddle, dinketty, poppety, pet,
The merchants of London they wear scarlet;
Silk in the collar, and gold in the hem,
So merrily march the merchantmen.

CCCCXXIII.

Fiddle-de-dee, fiddle-de-dee,
The fly shall marry the humble-bee.
They went to the church, and married was she,
The fly has married the humble-bee.

CCCCXXIV.

Hey, dorolot, dorolot!
Hey, dorolay, dorolay!
Hey, my bonny boat, bonny boat,
Hey, drag away, drag away!

CCCCXXV.

A cat came fiddling out of a barn,
With a pair of bag-pipes under her arm;
She could sing nothing but fiddle cum fee,
The mouse has married the humble-bee;
Pipe, cat,--dance, mouse,
We'll have a wedding at our good house.

CCCCXXVI.

Hey! diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laugh'd
To see the sport,
While the dish ran after the spoon.

CCCCXXVII.

Doodledy, doodledy, doodledy, dan,
I'll have a piper to be my good man;
And if I get less meat, I shall get game,
Doodledy, doodledy, doodledy, dan.

CCCCXXVIII.

Tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee
Resolved to have a battle,
For tweedle-dum said tweedle-dee
Had spoiled his nice new rattle.
Just then flew by a monstrous crow,
As big as a tar-barrel,
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their quarrel.

CCCCXXIX.

Come dance a jig
To my Granny's pig,
With a raudy, rowdy, dowdy;
Come dance a jig
To my Granny's pig,
And pussy-cat shall crowdy.

CCCCXXX.

Pussicat, wussicat, with a white foot,
When is your wedding? for I'll come to't.
The beer's to brew, the bread's to bake,
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, don't be too late.

CCCCXXXI.

Ding, dong, darrow,
The cat and the sparrow;
The little dog has burnt his tail,
And he shall be hang'd to-morrow.

CCCCXXXII.

Little Dicky Dilver
Had a wife of silver,
He took a stick and broke her back,
And sold her to the miller;
The miller would'nt have her,
So he threw her in the river.

CCCCXXXIII.

To market, to market, to buy a fat pig,
Home again, home again, dancing a jig;
Ride to the market to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.

CCCCXXXIV.

Doodle, doodle, doo,
The princess lost her shoe;
Her highness hopp'd,
The fidler stopped,
Not knowing what to do.

CCCCXXXV.

Rompty-iddity, row, row, row,
If I had a good supper, I could eat it now.

CCCCXXXVI.

[Magotty-pie is given in MS. Lands. 1033, fol. 2, as a Wiltshire
word for a magpie. See also 'Macbeth,' act iii, sc. 4. The same
term occurs in the dictionaries of Hollyband, Cotgrave, and
Minsheu.]

Round about, round about,
Magotty-pie,
My father loves good ale,
And so do I.

CCCCXXXVII.

High, ding, cockatoo-moody,
Make a bed in a barn, I will come to thee;
High, ding, straps of leather,
Two little puppy-dogs tied together;
One by the head, and one by the tail,
And over the water these puppy-dogs sail.

CCCCXXXVIII.

[Our collection of nursery songs may appropriately be
concluded with the Quaker's commentary on one of the greatest
favourites--Hey! diddle, diddle. We have endeavoured, as far
as practicable, to remove every line from the present edition
that could offend the most fastidious ear; but the following
annotations on a song we cannot be induced to omit, would
appear to suggest that our endeavours are scarcely likely to
be attended with success.]

"Hey! diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle"--

Yes, thee may say that, for that is nonsense.

"The cow jumped over the moon"--

Oh no! Mary, thee musn't say that, for that is a falsehood;
thee knows a cow could never jump over the moon; but a cow may
jump under it; so thee ought to say--"The cow jumped _under_
the moon." Yes,--

"The cow jumped under the moon;
The little dog laughed"--

Oh Mary, stop. How can a little dog laugh? thee knows a
little dog can't laugh. Thee ought to say--"The little dog
_barked_--to see the sport,"

"And the dish ran after the spoon"--

Stop, Mary, stop. A dish could never run after a spoon; thee
ought to know that. Thee had better say--"And the _cat_ ran
after the spoon." So,--

"Hey! diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jump'd _under_ the moon;
The little dog _bark'd_,
To see the sport,
And the _cat_ ran after the spoon!"

FOURTEENTH CLASS.

LOVE AND MATRIMONY.

CCCCXXXIX.

As I was going up Pippen-hill,
Pippen-hill was dirty,
There I met a pretty miss,
And she dropt me a curtsey.

Little miss, pretty miss,
Blessings light upon you!
If I had half-a-crown a day,
I'd spend it all on you.

CCCCXL.

Brave news is come to town,
Brave news is carried;
Brave news is come to town,
Jemmy Dawson's married.

CCCCXLI.

Willy, Willy Wilkin,
Kissed the maids a-milking,
Fa, la, la!
And with his merry daffing,
He set them all a laughing.
Ha, ha, ha!

CCCCXLII.

It's once I courted as pretty a lass,
As ever your eyes did see;
But now she's come to such a pass,
She never will do for me.
She invited me to her own house,
Where oft I'd been before,
And she tumbled me into the hog-tub,
And I'll never go there any more.

CCCCXLIII.

Sylvia, sweet as morning air,
Do not drive me to despair:
Long have I sighed in vain,
Now I am come again,
Will you be mine or no, no-a-no,--
Will you be mine or no?

Simon pray leave off your suit,
For of your courting you'll reap no fruit,
I would rather give a crown
Than be married to a clown;
Go for a booby, go, no-a-no,--
Go, for a booby, go.

CCCCXLIV.

What care I how black I be,
Twenty pounds will marry me;
If twenty won't, forty shall,
I am my mother's bouncing girl!

CCCCXLV.

"Where have you been all the day,
My boy Willy?"
"I've been all the day,
Courting of a lady gay:
But oh! she's too young
To be taken from her mammy."

"What work can she do,
My boy Willy?
Can she bake and can she brew,
My boy Willy?"
"She can brew and she can bake,
And she can make our wedding cake:
But oh! she's too young
To be taken from her mammy."

"What age may she be? What age may she be?
My boy Willy?"
"Twice two, twice seven,
Twice ten twice eleven:
But oh! she's too young
To be taken from her mammy."

CCCCXLVI.

[This is part of a little work called 'Authentic Memoirs of
the little Man and the little Maid, with some interesting
particulars of their lives,' which I suspect is more modern
than the following. Walpole printed a small broadside
containing a different version.]

There was a little man,
And he woo'd a little maid,
And he said, "little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?
I have little more to say,
Than will you, yea or nay,
For least said is soonest mended-ded, ded, ded."

The little maid replied,
Some say a little sighed,
"But what shall we have for to eat, eat, eat?
Will the love that you're so rich in
Make a fire in the kitchen?
Or the little god of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?"

CCCCXLVII.

There was a little boy and a little girl
Lived in an alley;
Says the little boy to the little girl,
"Shall I, oh! shall I?"

Says the little girl to the little boy,
"What shall we do?"
Says the little boy to the little girl,
"I will kiss you."

CCCCXLVIII.

A cow and a calf,
An ox and a half,
Forty good shillings and three;
Is that not enough tocher
For a shoe-maker's daughter,
A bonny lass with a black e'e?

CCCCXLIX.

O the little rusty, dusty, rusty miller!
I'll not change my wife for either gold or siller.

CCCCL.

As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks
Were walking out one Sunday,
Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,
"To-morrow will be Monday."

CCCCLI.

Little Jack Jingle,
He used to live single:
But when he got tired of this kind of life,
He left off being single, and liv'd with his wife.

CCCCLII.

When shall we be married,
My dear Nicholas Wood?
We will be married on Monday,
And will not that be very good?
What, shall we be married no sooner?
Why sure the man's gone wood![*]

What shall we have for our dinner,
My dear Nicholas Wood?
We will have bacon and pudding,
And will not that be very good?
What, shall we have nothing more?
Why sure the man's gone wood!

Who shall we have at our wedding,
My dear Nicholas Wood?
We will have mammy and daddy,
And will not that be very good?
What, shall we have nobody else?
Why sure the man's gone wood!

[Footnote *: Mad. This sense of the word has long been
obsolete; and exhibits therefore, the antiquity of these
lines.]

CCCCLIII.

Tommy Trot, a man of law,
Sold his bed and lay upon straw:
Sold the straw and slept on grass,
To buy his wife a looking-glass.

CCCCLIV.

We're all dry with drinking on't.
We're all dry with drinking on't;
The piper spoke to the fiddler's wife,
And I can't sleep for thinking on't.

CCCCLV.

"John, come sell thy fiddle,
And buy thy wife a gown."
"No, I'll not sell my fiddle,
For ne'er a wife in town."

CCCCLVI.

Up hill and down dale;
Butter is made in every vale,
And if that Nancy Cook
Is a good girl,
She shall have a spouse,
And make butter anon,
Before her old grandmother
Grows a young man.

CCCCLVII.

Jack in the pulpit, out and in;
Sold his wife for a minikin pin.

CCCCLVIII.

Did you see my wife, did you see, did you see,
Did you see my wife looking for me?
She wears a straw bonnet, with white ribbands on it,
And dimity petticoats over her knee.

CCCCLIX.

Rosemary green,
And lavender blue,
Thyme and sweet marjoram,
Hyssop and rue.

CCCCLX.

"Little maid, pretty maid, whither goest thou?"
"Down in the forest to milk my cow."
"Shall I go with thee?" "No, not now;
When I send for thee, then come thou."

CCCCLXI.

I am a pretty wench,
And I come a great way hence,
And sweethearts I can get none:
But every dirty sow,
Can get sweethearts enow,
And I, pretty wench, can get never a one.

CCCCLXII.

Birds of a feather flock together,
And so will pigs and swine;
Rats and mice will have their choice,
And so will I have mine.

CCCCLXIII.

[The practice of sowing hempseed on Allhallows Even is often
alluded to by earlier writers, and Gay, in his 'Pastorals,'
quotes part of the following lines as used on that occasion.]

Hemp-seed I set,
Hemp-seed I sow,
The young man that I love,
Come after me and mow!

CCCCLXIV.

Jack Sprat could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean;
And so, betwixt them both, you see,
They lick'd the platter clean.

CCCCLXV.

Little Jack Dandy-prat was my first suitor;
He had a dish and a spoon, and he'd some pewter;
He'd linen and woollen, and woollen and linen,
A little pig in a string cost him five shilling.

CCCCLXVI.

THE KEYS OF CANTERBURY.

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of Canterbury,
To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept of the keys of Canterbury,
To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry;
Neither will I walk abroad with thee,
Neither will I talk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you a fine carved comb,
To comb out your ringlets when I am from home,
If you will but walk with me, &c.
Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Oh, madam, I will give you a pair of shoes of cork,[*]
One made in London, the other made in York,
If you will but walk with me, &c.
Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Madam, I will give you a sweet silver bell,[+]
To ring up your maidens when you are not well,
If you will but walk with me, &c.
Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Oh, my man John, what can the matter be?
I love the lady and the lady loves not me!
Neither will she walk abroad with me,
Neither will she talk with me.

Oh, master dear, do not despair,
The lady she shall be, shall be your only dear,
And she will walk and talk with thee,
And she will walk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of my chest,
To count my gold and silver when I am gone to rest,
If you will but walk abroad with me,
If you will but talk with me.

Oh, sir, I will accept of the keys of your chest,
To count your gold and silver when you are gone to rest,
And I will walk abroad with thee,
And I will talk with thee!

[Footnote *: This proves the song was not later than the era
of chopines, or high cork shoes.]

[Footnote +: Another proof of antiquity. It must probably
have been written before the invention of bell-pulls.]

CCCCLXVII.

_He._ If you with me will go, my love,
You shall see a pretty show, my love,
Let dame say what she will:
If you will have me, my love,
I will have thee, my love,
So let the milk-pail stand still.

_She._ Since you have said so, my love,
Longer I will go, my love,
Let dame say what she will:
If you will have me, my love,
I will have thee, my love,
So let the milk-pail stand still.

CCCCLXVIII.

On Saturday night,
Shall be all my care
To powder my locks
And curl my hair.

On Sunday morning
My love will come in,
When he will marry me
With a gold ring.

CCCCLXIX.

Master I have, and I am his man,
Gallop a dreary dun;
Master I have, and I am his man,
And I'll get a wife as fast as I can;
With a heighly gaily gamberally,
Higgledy piggledy, niggledy, niggledy,
Gallop a dreary dun.

CCCCLXX.

I doubt, I doubt my fire is out,
My little wife isn't at home;
I'll saddle my dog, and I'll bridle my cat,
And I'll go fetch my little wife home.

CCCCLXXI.

Young Roger came tapping at Dolly's window,
Thumpaty, thumpaty, thump!
He asked for admittance, she answered him "No!"
Frumpaty, frumpaty, frump!
"No, no, Roger, no! as you came you may go!"
Stumpaty, stumpaty, stump!

CCCCLXXII.

Thomas and Annis met in the dark.
"Good morning," said Thomas.
"Good morning," said Annis.
And so they began to talk.

"I'll give you," says Thomas,
"Give me," said Annis;
"I prithee, love, tell me what?"
"Some nuts," said Thomas.
"Some nuts," said Annis;
"Nuts are good to crack."

"I love you," said Thomas.
"Love me!" said Annis;
"I prithee love tell me where?"
"In my heart," said Thomas.
"In your heart!" said Annis;
"How came you to love me there?"

"I'll marry you," said Thomas.
"Marry me!" said Annis;
"I prithee, love, tell me when?"
"Next Sunday," said Thomas.
"Next Sunday," said Annis;
"I wish next Sunday were come."

CCCCLXXIII.

Saw ye aught of my love a coming from ye market!
A peck of meal upon her back,
A babby in her basket;
Saw ye aught of my love a coming from the market?

CCCCLXXIV.

[This nursery song may probably commemorate a part of Tom
Thumb's history, extant in a Little Danish work, treating of
'Swain Tomling, a man no bigger than a thumb, who would be
married to a woman three ells and three quarters long.' See
Mr. Thoms' Preface to 'Tom & Lincoln,' p. xi.]

I had a little husband,
No bigger than my thumb;
I put him in a pint pot,
And there I bid him drum.

I bought a little horse,
That galloped up and down;
I bridled him, and saddled him,
And sent him out of town.

I gave him some garters,
To garter up his hose,
And a little handkerchief,
To wipe his pretty nose.

CCCCLXXV.

Can you make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Without any seam or needlework?
And you shall be a true lover of mine.

Can you wash it in yonder well,
Parsley, &c.
Where never sprung water, nor rain ever fell?
And you, &c.

Can you dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, &c.
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?
And you, &c.

Now you have ask'd me questions three,
Parsley, &c.
I hope you'll answer as many for me,
And you, &c.

Can you find me an acre of land,
Parsley, &c.
Between the salt water and the sea sand?
And you, &c.

Can you plough it with a ram's horn,
Parsley, &c.
And sow it all over with one pepper-corn?
And you, &c.

Can you reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, &c.
And bind it up with a peacock's feather?
And you, &c.

When you have done and finish'd your work,
Parsley, &c.
Then come to me for your cambric shirt,
And you, &c.

CCCCLXXVI.

Where have you been to-day, Billy, my son?
Where have you been to-day, my only man!
I've been a-wooing, mother; make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and fain would lay down.

What have you ate to-day, Billy, my son?
What have you ate to-day, my only man?
I've ate an eel-pie, mother; make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at heart, and shall die before noon!

CCCCLXXVII.

I married my wife by the light of the moon,
A tidy housewife, a tidy one;
She never gets up until it is noon,
And I hope she'll prove a tidy one.

And when she gets up, she is slovenly laced,
A tidy, &c.
She takes up the poker to roll out the paste,
And I hope, &c.

She churns her butter in a boot,
A tidy, &c.
And instead of a churnstaff she puts in her foot,
And I hope, &c.

She lays her cheese on the scullery shelf,
A tidy, &c.
And she never turns it till it turns itself.
And I hope, &c.

CCCCLXXVIII.

There was a little maid, and she was afraid,
That her sweetheart would come unto her;
So she went to bed, and cover'd up her head
And fasten'd the door with a skewer.

CCCCLXXIX.

"Madam, I am come to court you,
If your favour I can gain."
"Ah, Ah!" said she, "you are a bold fellow,
If I e'er see your face again!"

"Madam, I have rings and diamonds,
Madam, I have houses and land,
Madam, I have a world of treasure,
All shall be at your command."

"I care not for rings and diamonds,
I care not for houses and lands,
I care not for a world of treasure,
So that I have but a handsome man."

"Madam, you think much of beauty,
Beauty hasteneth to decay,
For the fairest of flowers that grow in summer
Will decay and fade away."

CCCCLXXX.

Up street, and down street,
Each window's made of glass;
If you go to Tommy Tickler's house,
You'll find a pretty lass.

CCCCLXXXI.

Oh! mother, I shall be married to Mr. Punchinello.
To Mr. Punch,
To Mr. Joe,
To Mr. Nell,
To Mr. Lo.
Mr. Punch, Mr. Joe,
Mr. Nell, Mr. Lo,
To Mr. Punchinello.

CCCCLXXXII.

Little John Jiggy Jag,
He rode a penny nag,
And went to Wigan to woo;
When he came to a beck,
He fell and broke his neck,--
Johnny, how dost thou now?

I made him a hat,
Of my coat-lap,
And stockings of pearly blue.
A hat and a feather,
To keep out cold weather;
So, Johnny, how dost thou now?

CCCCLXXXIII. [Cumberland courtship.]

Bonny lass, canny lass, willta be mine?
Thou'se neither wesh dishes, nor sarrah (_serve_) the swine,
Thou sall sit on a cushion, and sew up a seam,
And thou sall eat strawberries, sugar, and cream!

CCCCLXXXIV.

Bessy Bell and Mary Gray,[*]
They were two bonny lasses:
They built their house upon the lea,
And covered it with rashes.

Bessy kept the garden gate,
And Mary kept the pantry:
Bessy always had to wait,
While Mary lived in plenty.

[Footnote *: The common tradition respecting these celebrated
beauties is as follows:--"In the year 1666, when the plague
raged at Perth, these ladies retired into solitude, to avoid
infection; built on a small streamlet, tributary to the
Almond, in a sequestered corner called _Burn-brae_, a bower,
and lived in it together, till a young man, whom they both
tenderly loved, in his visits communicated to them the fatal
contagion, of which they soon after died."]

CCCCLXXXV.

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down, and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.

CCCCLXXXVI.

Little Tom Dandy
Was my first suitor,
He had a spoon and dish,
And a little pewter.

CCCCLXXXVII.

There was a little pretty lad,
And he lived by himself,
And all the meat he got
He put upon a shelf.

The rats and the mice
Did lead him such a life,
That he went to Ireland
To get himself a wife.

The lanes they were so broad,
And the fields they were so narrow,
He couldn't get his wife home
Without a wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow broke,
My wife she got a kick,
The deuce take the wheelbarrow,
That spared my wife's neck.

CCCCLXXXVIII.

Rowley Powley, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry;
When the girls begin to cry,
Rowley Powley runs away.

CCCCLXXXIX.

Margaret wrote a letter,
Seal'd it with her finger,
Threw it in the dam
For the dusty miller.
Dusty was his coat,
Dusty was the siller,
Dusty was the kiss
I'd from the dusty miller.
If I had my pockets
Full of gold and siller,
I would give it all
To my dusty miller.

_Chorus._ O the little, little,
Rusty, dusty, miller.

CCCCXC.

Love your own, kiss your own.
Love your own mother, hinny,
For if she was dead and gone,
You'd ne'er get such another, hinny.

CCCCXCI.

Here comes a lusty wooer,
My a dildin, my a daldin;
Here comes a lusty wooer,
Lily bright and shine a'.

Pray, who do you woo,
My a dildin, my a daldin?
Pray, who do you woo,
Lily bright and shine a'?

For your fairest daughter,
My a dildin, my a daldin;
For your fairest daughter,
Lily bright and shine a'.

Then there she is for you,
My a dildin, my a daldin;
Then there she is for you,
Lily bright and shine a'.

CCCCXCII.

O rare Harry Parry,
When will you marry?
When apples and pears are ripe.
I'll come to your wedding,
Without any bidding,
And dance and sing all the night.

CCCCXCIII.

Blue eye beauty,
Grey eye greedy,
Black eye blackie,
Brown eye brownie.

CCCCXCIV.

Curly locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine;
But sit on a cushion and sow a fine seam,
And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream!

FIFTEENTH CLASS.

NATURAL HISTORY.

CCCCXCV.

The cuckoo's a fine bird,
He sings as he flies;
He brings us good tidings,
He tells us no lies.

He sucks little birds' eggs,
To make his voice clear;
And when he sings "cuckoo!"
The summer is near.

CCCCXCVI. [A provincial version of the same.]

The cuckoo's a vine bird,
A zengs as a vlies;
A brengs us good tidins,
And tells us no lies;
A zucks th' smael birds' eggs,
To make his voice clear;
And the mwore a cries "cuckoo!"
The zummer draws near.

CCCCXCVII.

I had a little dog, and his name was Blue Bell,
I gave him some work, and he did it very well;
I sent him up stairs to pick up a pin,
He stepped in the coal-scuttle up to the chin;
I sent him to the garden to pick some sage,
He tumbled down and fell in a rage;
I sent him to the cellar to draw a pot of beer,
He came up again and said there was none there.

CCCCXCVIII.

The cat sat asleep by the side of the fire,
The mistress snored loud as a pig:
Jack took up his fiddle, by Jenny's desire,
And struck up a bit of a jig.

CCCCXCIX.

I had a little hobby-horse, and it was well shod,
It carried me to the mill-door, trod, trod, trod;
When I got there I gave a great shout,
Down came the hobby-horse, and I cried out.
Fie upon the miller, he was a great beast,
He would not come to my house, I made a little feast,
I had but little, but I would give him some,
For playing of his bag-pipes and beating his drum.