B. One rush, two rush, Pray thee, fine lady, come under my bush. [A passes under the arch, followed by the whole string of children, the last of whom is taken captive by в and c. The verses are repeated, until the whole are taken.] CCVI. ELEVEN Comets in the sky, Nine peacocks in the air, As fresh as any heart could wish; Three monkeys tied to a clog; Two pudding-ends would choke a dog, With a gaping, wide-mouthed, waddling frog. CCVII. [A Scotch version of the song already given at p. 109.] LAZY dukes, that sit in your neuks, And winna come out to play; Leave your supper, leave your sleep, Come out and play at hide-and-seek. I've a cherry, I've a chess, I've a bonny blue glass, I've a dog among the corn, One blind of an eye, CCVIII. THERE were three jovial Welshmen, All the day they hunted, And nothing could they find, But a ship a-sailing, One said it was a ship, The other he said, nay; And all the night they hunted, One said it was the moon, CCIX. [Song set to five fingers.] 1. THIS little pig went to market ; 2. This little pig staid at home; 3. This little pig had a bit of bread and butter; 4. This little pig had none; 5. This little pig said, Wee, wee, wee! I can't find my way home. CCX. [A game at ball.] CUCKо, cherry tree, Catch a bird, and give it to me; Let it hail, rain, or snow. CCXI. I CAN make diet bread, I can make diet bread, CCXII. [The following lines are sung by children when starting for a race.] Good horses, bad horses, [The following CCXIII. the Oxfordshire version of the game of the Confessional, as shown in shadows on the wall.] FATHER, O father, I'm come to confess, Last night I call'd the cat a beast. Kiss me. CCXIV. [The Kentish version of the same game.] Good morning, father Francis. Good morning, Mrs. Sheckleton. What has brought you abroad so early, Mrs. Sheckleton ? I have come to confess a great sin, father Francis. What's it, Mrs. Sheckleton? Your cat stole a pound of my butter, father Francis! O, no sin at all, Mrs. Sheckleton. But I kill'd your cat for it, father Francis. O a very great sin indeed, Mrs. Sheckleton, you must do penance. What penance, father Francis? Kiss me. O no, O yes, O no, O yes, &c. ad libitum. |