XXIV.

I HAD a little moppet,
I put it in my pocket,
And fed it with corn and hay;
Then came a proud beggar,

And swore he would have her,
And stole my little moppet away.

XXV.

THERE were two birds sat on a stone,

Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;

One flew-away, and then there was one,

Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;

The other flew after, and then there was none,

Fa, la, la, la, lal de;

And so the poor stone was left all alone,
Fa, la, la, la, lal, de!

XXVI.

THERE was a little Guinea-pig,
Who, being little, was not big,
He always walked upon his feet,
And never fasted when he eat.

C

When from a place he ran away,
He never at that place did stay;
And while he ran, as I am told,
He ne'er stood still for young or old.

He often squeak'd, and sometimes vi'lent,
And when he squeak'd he ne'er was silent:
Tho' ne'er instructed by a cat,

He knew a mouse was not a rat.

One day, as I am certified,

He took a whim and fairly died;
And as I'm told by men of sense,
He never has been living since.

XXVII.

DID you not hear of Betty Pringle's pig?
It was not very little, nor yet very big;
The pig sat down upon a dunghill,
And then poor piggy he made his will.

Betty Pringle came to see this pretty pig,
That was not very little, nor yet very big;
This little piggy it lay down and died,
And Betty Pringle sat down and cried.

Then Johnny Pringle buried this very pretty pig, That was not very little, nor yet very big;

So here's an end of the song of all three,

Johnny Pringle, Betty Pringle, and the little Piggie.

XXVIII.

THREE wise men of Gotham,

Went to sea in a bowl:

And if the bowl had been stronger,
My song would have been longer.

XXIX.

[THE following was most probably taken from a poetical tale in the "Choyce Poems," 12mo. Lond. 1662. As it is a very popular nursery song, I shall give the tale to which I allude in No. 30]

THREE children sliding on the ice,

Upon a summer's day,

As it fell out, they all fell in,

The rest they ran away.

Now had these children been at home,

Or sliding on dry ground,

Ten thousand pounds to one penny,
They had not all been drown'd.

XXX.

[From "Ovid de Arte Amandi &c. Englished, together with Choice Poems, and rare Pieces of Drollery." 1662.]

SOME Christian people all give ear,

Unto the grief of us,

Caused by the death of three children dear;

The which it hapned thus.

c 2

And eke there befel an accident,

By fault of a carpenter's son,
Who to saw chips his sharp axe lent,
Wo woeth the time may Lon-

May London say, wo woeth the carpenter,

And all such block-head fools,

Would he were hang'd up like a serpent here, For jesting with edge-tools.

For into the chips there fell a spark,
Which put out in such flames,
That it was known in Southwark,
Which lies beyond the Thames.

For lo, the bridge was wondrous high,
With water underneath,
O'er which as many fishes fly,

As birds therein doth breath.

And yet the fire consum'd the bridge,
Not far from place of landing;
And though the building was full big,
It fell down not-with-standing.

And eke into the water fell

So many pewter dishes,

That a man might have taken up very well

Both boil'd and roasted fishes.

And that the bridge of London town,
For building that was sumptuous,
Was all by fire half burnt down,
For being too contumptious:

And thus you have all but half my song,
Pray list to what comes after;
For now I have cool'd you with the fire,
I'll warm you with the water.

I'll tell you what the river's name is,
Where these children did slide-a,
It was fair London's swiftest Thames,
That keeps both time and tide-a.

All on the tenth of January,

To the wonder of much people,

"Twas frozen o'er, that well 'twould bear Almost a country steeple.

Three children sliding thereabouts,

Upon a place too thin,

That so at last it did fall out,

That they did all fall in.

A great lord there was that laid with the king, And with the king great wager makes:

But when he saw he could not win,

He seight, and would have drawn stakes.