Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened,

The birds began to sing; Wasn't that a dainty dish To set before the king?

The king was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey;

Higgledy Piggledy,
My black hen,

She lays eggs for gentlemen;
Sometimes nine, and sometimes ten.

Higgledy Piggledy,
My black hen!

I W.W.

Goosey, goosey, gander,

Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs, downstairs,

And in my lady's chamber.

prayers;

There I met an old man
That would not say his
I took him by the left leg,
And threw him downstairs.