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Traditional Nursery Songs of England Part 3

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One, two, three, four, five, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, I caught a hare alive, Six, seven, eight, nine, ten; 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, And let it go again.

One misty moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, There I met an old man Clothed all in leather; Clothed all in leather, With cap under his chin, How do you do, and how do you do, And how do you do again?

[Ill.u.s.tration:

LOST GAME.

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, I CAUGHT A HARE ALIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, TEN; AND LET IT GO AGAIN.]

Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man, So I will, master, as fast as I can; Pat it, and p.r.i.c.k it, and mark it with B.

And toss it in the oven for Baby and me.

p.u.s.s.y-cat, p.u.s.s.y-cat, where have you been?

I've been to London to see the Queen.

p.u.s.s.y-cat, p.u.s.s.y-cat, what did you there?

I frightened a little mouse under the chair.

Rain, rain, Go away, Come again Another day; Little Johnny Wants to play.

Ride a c.o.c.k-horse to Banbury-Cross, To see an old woman ride on a black horse, With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, And she shall have music wherever she goes.

Robert Barnes, fellow fine, Can you shoe this horse of mine?

Yes, good Sir, that I can, As well as any other man; There's a nail, and there's a prod, And now, good Sir, your horse is shod.

Robin and Richard were two pretty men; They lay a-bed till the clock struck ten; Then up starts Robin and looks at the sky, "Oh! oh! brother Richard, the sun's very high, You go before with bottle and bag, And I'll follow after on little Jack Nag."

Rock-a-bye, baby, upon the tree top, When the wind blows, the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, Down will come cradle and baby and all.

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green; Father's a n.o.bleman, mother's a queen; And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring; And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king.

See-saw, Jack-a-daw, Johnny shall have a new master; Johnny shall have but a penny a day, Because he can work no faster.

See-saw, Margery Daw Sold her bed, and laid upon straw; Was not she a dirty s.l.u.t, To sell her bed and lie in the dirt?

See-saw, sacaradown, Which is the way to London town?

One foot up, the other foot down, That is the way to London town.

Shoe the horse, shoe the colt, Shoe the wild mare; Here a nail, there a nail, Yet she goes bare.

Sing! sing! what shall I sing?

The cat's run away with the pudding-bag string.

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, And was not that a dainty dish to set before the king?

The king was in the parlour, counting out his money; The queen was in the kitchen, eating bread and honey; The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes; There came a little blackbird, and pecked off her nose.

Snail! Snail! come out of your hole, Or else I'll beat you as black as a coal.

[Ill.u.s.tration:

EVENING AT HOME

THE CAT SAT ASLEEP BY THE FIRE THE MISTRESS SNORED LOUD AS A PIG.

JACK TOOK UP HIS FIDDLE BY JENNY'S DESIRE AND STRUCK UP A BIT OF A JIG.]

The cat sat asleep by the fire, The mistress snored loud as a pig, Jack took up his fiddle by Jenny's desire, And struck up a bit of a jig.

Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief, Taffy came to my house, And stole a piece of beef.

I went to Taffy's house, Taffy wasn't at home, Taffy came to my house, And stole a marrow bone.

I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed, I took the marrow bone, And beat about his head.

The girl in the lane, that couldn't speak plain, Cried gobble, gobble, gobble: The man on the hill, that couldn't stand still, Went hobble, hobble, hobble.

The lion and the unicorn Were fighting for the crown; The lion beat the unicorn All round about the town.

Some gave them white bread, Some gave them brown, Some gave them plumcake, And sent them out of town.

The man in the moon, Came down too soon, And ask'd his way to Norwich; He went by the south And burnt his mouth With eating cold plum-porridge.

The man in the wilderness asked me, How many strawberries grew in the sea?

I answered him as I thought good, As many red herrings as grew in the wood.

The north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will poor Robin do then?

Poor thing!

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