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A, B, C, tumble down D, The cat's in the cupboard And can't see me.
COMICAL FOLK
In a cottage in Fife Lived a man and his wife, Who, believe me, were comical folk; For, to people's surprise, They both saw with their eyes, And their tongues moved whenever they spoke.
When they were asleep, I'm told--that to keep Their eyes open they could not contrive; They both walked on their feet, And 't was thought what they eat Helped, with drinking, to keep them alive.
DING, DONG, BELL.
Ding, dong, bell, the cat is in the well!
Who put her in? Little Johnny Green.
Who pulled her out?
Little Tommy Stout.
What a naughty boy was that, To try to drown poor p.u.s.s.y cat, Who never did him any harm, But killed the mice in his father's barn!
BOBBY SNOOKS
Little Bobby Snooks was fond of his books, And loved by his usher and master;
But naughty Jack Spry, he got a black eye, And carries his nose in a plaster.
SIX LITTLE MICE
Six little mice sat down to spin, p.u.s.s.y pa.s.sed by, and she peeped in.
"What are you at, my little men?"
"Making coats for gentlemen."
"Shall I come in and bite off your threads?"
"No, no, Miss p.u.s.s.y, you'll bite off our heads."
"Oh, no, I'll not, I'll help you spin."
"That may be so, but you don't come in."
WING, w.a.n.g, WADDLE, OH
My father he died, but I can't tell you how, He left me six horses to drive in my plough; With my wing, w.a.n.g, waddle, oh, Jack sing saddle, oh, Blowsey boys buble, oh, Under the broom.
I sold my six horses and I bought me a cow, I'd fain have made a fortune but did not know how; With my wing, w.a.n.g, waddle, oh, Jack sing saddle, oh, Blowsey boys buble, oh, Under the broom.
I sold my cow, and I bought me a calf; I'd fain have made a fortune but lost the best half; With my wing, w.a.n.g, waddle, oh, Jack sing saddle, oh, Blowsey boys buble, oh, Under the broom.
I sold my calf, and I bought me a cat; A pretty thing she was, in my chimney corner sat; With my wing, w.a.n.g, waddle, oh, Jack sing saddle oh, Blowsey boys buble, oh, Under the broom.
I sold my cat and bought me a mouse; He carried fire in his tail, and burnt down my house; With my wing, w.a.n.g, waddle, oh, Jack sing saddle, oh, Blowsey boys buble, oh, Under the broom.
THE HART
The hart he loves the high wood, The hare she loves the hill; The Knight he loves his bright sword, The Lady--loves her will.
OLD CHAIRS TO MEND
If I'd as much money as I could spend, I never would cry old chairs to mend; Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend; I never would cry old chairs to mend.
If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry old clothes to sell; Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell; I never would cry old clothes to sell.
SEE, SEE!
See, see! what shall I see?
A horse's head where his tail should be!
OLD MOTHER HUBBARD
Mother Hubbard's old dog Tray, If this account be true, Had not an equal, I dare say, Come tell me, what think you?
Old Mother Hubbard Went to her cupboard, To give her poor dog a bone;