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, I hope you'll answer as many for me, 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? When you have done and finish'd your work, Parsley, &c. Then come to me for your cambric shirt, And you, &c. CCCXLIII. LITTLE Tom Dandy Was my first suitor, He had a spoon and dish, CCCXLIV. LITTLE John Jiggy Jag, He rode a penny nag, And went to Wigan to woo: 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? CCCXLV. JACK and Jill went up the hill, Jack fell down, and broke his crown, CCCXLVI. [The following version is taken from Douce's MS. additions to Ritson, but the more common one commences "When I was a bachelor I lived by myself."] THERE was a little pretty lad, And he lived by himself, He put upon a shelf. The rats and the mice Did lead him such a life, That he went to Ireland 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, CCCXLVII. ROWLEY POLEY, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry; When the girls begin to cry, Rowley Poley runs away. THE Cuckoo's a fine bird, He sings as he flies; He brings us good tidings, He sucks little birds' eggs, To make his voice clear; And when he sings "cuckoo !" The summer is near. CCCXLIX. THE cat sat asleep by the side of the fire, CCCL. I HAD a little hobby-horse, and it was well shod, It carried me to the mill-door, trod, trod, trod; Down came the hobby-horse, and I cried out. I had but little, but I would give him some, For playing of his bag-pipes and beating his drum. CCCLI. I HAD a little dog, and his name was Blue Bell, I sent him to the cellar, to draw a pot of beer, He came up again and said there was noue there. |