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apple baby beat the dog bells of St birds bit the cat butcher carrion crow Catskin Cock me cary dame Dance o'er daughter dear dilly ding e-oh father bought fiddle fire Fol de riddle frog gay lady girl give gold gone heigh house that Jack Jack built JACK SPRAT John Ball shot John Block John Crowder Johnny jump'd kill'd the rat king Kitty lady lee legs little boy Lond London Bridge lord maid mammy married mother mouse never night nursery o'er my lady old woman Parsley penny pieces of money piper's son poor Pray pretty pussy-cat rhyme ride ring Robin Robin Hood round Say the bells shoe Simple Simon sing snail SolomoN GRUNDY song stick tail thee There’s thou Tommy took town tree Twelve huntsmen twine wash whistle wife
Page 104 - OLD Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard, To get her poor dog a bone: But when she got there The cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none.
Page 187 - ... the house that Jack built. THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT 31 This is the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, 5 That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.
Page 88 - As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives, Every wife had seven sacks, Every sack had seven cats, Every cat had seven kits— Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were going to St. Ives?
Page 190 - That beat the dog, That bit the cat, That ate the kid, That my father bought For two pieces of money : A kid, a kid.
Page 152 - Hey, diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon!
Page 81 - Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them, Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.
Page 144 - Rockabye Baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, cradle and all.
Page 54 - A SWARM of bees in May Is worth a load of hay; A swarm of bees in June Is worth a silver spoon; A swarm of bees in July Is not worth a fly.