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SA CAT came singing out of a barn,

| With a pair of bag-pipes under On her arm;

She could sing nothing but

fiddle de dee, The mouse has married the humble bee.


fiddle ce u

DILLAR a dollar,
A ten o'clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon ?
You used to come at ten o'clock,
But now you come at noon.

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DUCK and a drake,
C A nice barley-cake,
15 With a penny to pay the old

A hop and a scotch,

Is another notch,
Slitherum, slatherum, take her.


A LITTLE old man and I fell out;

How shall we bring this matter 3 about?

Bring it about as well as you can,
Get you gone you little old man!

nos las FOR LITTLE boy and a little girl 21 lived in an alley.

Said the little boy to the little

girl, Shall I? oh shall I ? Said the little girl to the little boy,

What will you do? Said the little boy to the little girl, I

will kiss you.


A LONG-TAIL'D pig, or a short-
G tail'd pig,
5 Or a pig without a tail ?

A sow-pig, or a boar pig,
Or a pig with a curly tail ?

MAN of words and not of deeds

Is like a garden full of weeds; a And when the weeds begin to


It's like a garden full of snow; And when the snow begins to fall, It's like a bird upon the wall; And when the bird away does fly, It's like an eagle in the sky; And when the sky begins to roar, It's like a lion at the door; And when the door begins to crack, It's like a stick across your back; And when your back begins to smart, It's like a penknife in your heart; And when your heart begins to bleed, You're dead, and dead, and dead, in



A PIE sate on a pear tree,

A pie sate on a pear tree, 15 A pie sate on a pear tree,

Heigh O! heigho! heigh O!

Once so merrily hopp'd she,
Twice so merrily hopp'd she,
Thrice so merrily hopp'd she,
Heigh O! heighTMO! heigh O!

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.

AS I was going to sell my eggs,
IS I met a man with bandy legs,
BN Bandy legs and crooked toes,
e I tripped up his heels, and he
fell on his nose.




I S I was going to St. Ives,

E I met a man with seven wives,
1a Every wife had a sack,

Every sack had a cat,
Every cat had a kit;

Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were there going to St.

Ives ?

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S I was going up Pippin-hill,

Pippin-hill was dirty,
There I met a pretty miss,

And she dropped mea curtsey.
Little miss, pretty miss !

Blessings light upon you !
If I had half-a-crown a day,

I'd spend it all on you.

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