The Nursery Rhymes of England Part 13

The fox when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his lugs and he listened a while!

Oh, ho! said the fox, it's but a short mile From this unto yonder wee town, e-ho!

The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, Who should he see but the farmer's drake; I love you well for your master's sake, And long to be picking your bone, e-ho!

The gray goose she ran round the hay-stack, Oh, ho! said the fox, you are very fat; You'll grease my beard and ride on my back From this into yonder wee town, e-ho!

Old Gammer Hipple-hopple hopped out of bed, She opened the cas.e.m.e.nt, and popped out her head; Oh! husband, oh! husband, the gray goose is dead, And the fox is gone through the town, oh!

Then the old man got up in his red cap, And swore he would catch the fox in a trap; But the fox was too cunning, and gave him the slip, And ran thro' the town, the town, oh!

When he got to the top of the hill, He blew his trumpet both loud and shrill, For joy that he was safe Thro' the town, oh!

When the fox came back to his den, He had young ones both nine and ten, "You're welcome home, daddy, you may go again, If you bring us such nice meat From the town, oh!"

Cx.x.xIV.

Little Tom Dogget, What dost thou mean, To kill thy poor Colly Now she's so lean?

Sing, oh poor Colly, Colly, my cow, For Colly will give me No more milk now.

I had better have kept her, 'Till fatter she had been, For now, I confess, She's a little too lean.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

First in comes the tanner With his sword by his side, And he bids me five s.h.i.+llings For my poor cow's hide.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

Then in comes the tallow-chandler, Whose brains were but shallow, And he bids me two-and-sixpence For my cow's tallow.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

Then in comes the huntsman So early in the morn, He bids me a penny For my cow's horn.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

Then in comes the tripe-woman, So fine and so neat, She bids me three half-pence For my cow's feet.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

Then in comes the butcher, That nimble-tongu'd youth, Who said she was carrion, But he spoke not the truth.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

The skin of my cowly Was softer than silk, And three times a-day My poor cow would give milk.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

She every year A fine calf did me bring, Which fetcht me a pound, For it came in the spring.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

But now I have kill'd her, I can't her recall; I will sell my poor Colly, Hide, horns, and all.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

The butcher shall have her, Though he gives but a pound, And he knows in his heart That my Colly was sound.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.

And when he has bought her Let him sell all together, The flesh for to eat, And the hide for leather.

Sing, oh poor Colly, &c.[*]

[Footnote *: A different version of the above, commencing, My Billy Aroms, is current in the nurseries of Cornwall. One verse runs as follows:

In comes the horner, Who roguery scorns, And gives me three farthings For poor cowly's horns.

This is better than our reading, and it concludes thus:

There's an end to my cowly, Now she's dead and gone; For the loss of my cowly, I sob and I mourn.]

Cx.x.xV.

[A north-country song.]

Says t'auld man t.i.t oak tree, Young and l.u.s.ty was I when I kenn'd thee; I was young and l.u.s.ty, I was fair and clear, Young and l.u.s.ty was I mony a lang year; But sair fail'd am I, sair fail'd now, Sair fail'd am I sen I kenn'd thou.

Cx.x.xVI.

You shall have an apple, You shall have a plum, You shall have a rattle-basket, When your dad comes home.

Cx.x.xVII.

Up at Piccadilly oh!

The coachman takes his stand, And when he meets a pretty girl, He takes her by the hand; Whip away for ever oh!

Drive away so clever oh!

All the way to Bristol oh!

He drives her four-in-hand.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Cx.x.xVIII.

[The first line of this nursery rhyme is quoted in Beaumont and Fletcher's _Bonduca_, Act v, sc. 2. It is probable also that Sir Toby alludes to this song in _Twelfth Night_, Act ii, sc. 2, when he says, "Come on; there is sixpence for you; let's have a song." In _Epulario, or the Italian banquet_, 1589, is a receipt "to make pies so that the birds may be alive in them and flie out when it is cut up," a mere device, live birds being introduced after the pie is made. This may be the original subject of the following song.]

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

When the pie was open'd, The birds began to sing; Was not 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 parlour Eating bread and honey;

The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes, There came a little blackbird, And snapt off her nose.

Jenny was so mad, She didn't know what to do; She put her finger in her ear, And crackt it right in two.