CCLXI.

There was an old woman toss'd up in a basket Nineteen times as high as the moon; Where she was going I couldn't but ask it, For in her hand she carried a broom.

Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I, O whither, O whither, O whither, so high?

To brush the cobwebs off the sky!

Shall I go with thee? Aye, by and by.

CCLXII.

There was an old man who liv'd in Middle Row, He had five hens and a name for them, oh!

Bill and Ned and Battock, Cut-her-foot and Pattock, Chuck, my lady Prattock, Go to thy nest and lay.

CCLXIII.

There was an old woman of Leeds Who spent all her time in good deeds; She worked for the poor Till her fingers were sore, This pious old woman of Leeds!

CCLXIV.

Old Betty Blue Lost a holiday shoe, What can old Betty do?

Give her another To match the other, And then she may swagger in two.

CCLXV.

Old mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard, To get her poor dog a bone; But when she came there The cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker's To buy him some bread, But when she came back The poor dog was dead.

She went to the joiner's To buy him a coffin, But when she came back The poor dog was laughing.[*]

She took a clean dish To get him some tripe, But when she came back He was smoking his pipe.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

She went to the fishmonger's To buy him some fish, And when she came back He was licking the dish.

She went to the ale-house To get him some beer, But when she came back The dog sat in a chair.

She went to the tavern For white wine and red, But when she came back The dog stood on his head.

She went to the hatter's To buy him a hat, But when she came back He was feeding the cat.

She went to the barber's To buy him a wig, But when she came back He was dancing a jig.

She went to the fruiterer's To buy him some fruit, But when she came back He was playing the flute.

She went to the tailor's To buy him a coat, But when she came back He was riding a goat.

She went to the cobbler's To buy him some shoes, But when she came back He was reading the news.

She went to the sempstress To buy him some linen, But when she came back The dog was spinning.

She went to the hosier's To buy him some hose, But when she came back He was dress'd in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsey, The dog made a bow; The dame said, your servant, The dog said, bow, wow.

[Footnote *: Probably _loffing_ or _loffin'_, to complete the rhyme. So in Shakspeare's 'Mids. Night's Dream,' act ii, sc. 1:

"And then the whole quire hold their hips, and _loffe_."]

CCLXVI.

[The first two lines of the following are the same with those of a song in D'Urfey's 'Pills to Purge Melancholy,' vol. v, p.

13.]

There was an old woman Lived under a hill, She put a mouse in a bag, And sent it to mill;

The miller declar'd By the point of his knife, He never took toll Of a mouse in his life.

CCLXVII.

[The following is part of a comic song called 'Success to the Whistle and Wig,' intended to be sung in rotation by the members of a club.]

There was an old woman had three sons, Jerry, and James, and John: Jerry was hung, James was drowned, John was lost and never was found, And there was an end of the three sons, Jerry, and James, and John!

CCLXVIII.

[The tale on which the following story is founded is found in a MS. of the fifteenth century, preserved in the Chetham Library at Manchester.]

There was an old man, who lived in a wood, As you may plainly see; He said he could do as much work in a day, As his wife could do in three.

With all my heart, the old woman said, If that you will allow, To-morrow you'll stay at home in my stead, And I'll go drive the plough:

But you must milk the Tidy cow, For fear that she go dry; And you must feed the little pigs That are within the sty; And you must mind the speckled hen, For fear she lay away; And you must reel the spool of yarn That I spun yesterday.

The old woman took a staff in her hand, And went to drive the plough: The old man took a pail in his hand, And went to milk the cow; But Tidy hinched, and Tidy flinched, And Tidy broke his nose, And Tidy gave him such a blow, That the blood ran down to his toes.

High! Tidy! ho! Tidy! high!

Tidy! do stand still; If ever I milk you, Tidy, again, 'Twill be sore against my will!

He went to feed the little pigs, That were within the sty; He hit his head against the beam, And he made the blood to fly.

He went to mind the speckled hen, For fear she'd lay astray, And he forgot the spool of yarn His wife spun yesterday.

So he swore by the sun, the moon, and the stars, And the green leaves on the tree, If his wife didn't do a day's work in her life, She should ne'er be ruled by he.