The tailor of Bicester, He has but one eye; He cannot cut a pair of green galagaskins, If he were to try.

DCII.

d.i.c.k and Tom, Will and John, Brought me from Nottingham.

DCIII.

At Brill on the Hill, The wind blows shrill, The cook no meat can dress; At Stow in the Wold The wind blows cold,-- I know no more than this.

DCIV.

A man went a hunting at Reigate, And wished to leap over a high gate; Says the owner, "Go round, With your gun and your hound, For you never shall leap over my gate."

DCV.

Driddlety drum, driddlety drum, There you see the beggars are come; Some are here, and some are there, And some are gone to Chidley fair.

DCVI.

Little boy, pretty boy, where was you born?

In Lincolnshire, master: come blow the cow's horn.

A half-penny pudding, a penny pie, A shoulder of mutton, and that love I.

DCVII

My father and mother, My uncle and aunt, Be all gone to Norton, But little Jack and I.

A little bit of powdered beef, And a great net of cabbage, The best meal I have had to-day, Is a good bowl of porridge.

DCVIII.

I lost my mare in Lincoln lane, And couldn't tell where to find her, Till she came home both lame and blind, With never a tail behind her.

DCIX.

Cripple d.i.c.k upon a stick, And Sandy on a sow, Riding away to Galloway, To buy a pound o' woo.

DCX.

Little lad, little lad, where wast thou born?

Far off in Lancashire, under a thorn, Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

EIGHTEENTH CLa.s.s--RELICS.

DCXI.

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.

DCXII.

Hink, minx! the old witch winks, The fat begins to fry: There's n.o.body at home but jumping Joan, Father, mother, and I.

DCXIII.

Baby and I Were baked in a pie, The gravy was wonderful hot: We had nothing to pay To the baker that day, And so we crept out of the pot.

DCXIV.

What are little boys made of, made of, What are little boys made of?

Snaps and snails, and puppy-dog's tails; And that's what little boys are made of, made of.

What are little girls made of, made of, made of, What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice, and all that's nice; And that's what little girls are made of, made of.

DCXV.

If a body meet a body, In a field of fitches; Can a body tell a body Where a body itches?

DCXVI.

Charley wag, Eat the pudding and left the bag.

DCXVII.

Girls and boys, come out to play, The moon doth shine as bright as day; Leave your supper, and leave your sleep, And come with your playfellows into the street.

Come with a whoop, come with a call, Come with a good will or not at all.

Up the ladder and down the wall, A halfpenny roll will serve us all.

You find milk, and I'll find flour, And we'll have a pudding in half an hour.