CCXLII. THERE was an old man who liv'd in Middle Row, CCLXIII. WHO comes here? A grenadier. What do you want? A pot of beer. Where is your money? I've forgot. Get you gone, You drunken sot. CCLXIV. CURLY locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine? Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine: But sit on a cushion, and sew a fine seam, And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream! CCLXV. I'LL sing you a song, For a pin; Three and three are six, And three are nine ; You are a fool, And the pin is mine. CCLXVI. THE quaker's wife got up to bake, She gave them every one a cake, And the miller wants his moulter. CCLXVII. BARBER, barber, shave a pig, CCLXVIII. WE'LL go a shooting, says Robin to Bobbin ; What shall we kill, says Robin to Bobbin; We'll shoot at that wren, says Robin to Bobbin; We'll shoot at that wren, says Richard to Robin; We'll shoot at that wren, says John all alone; We'll shoot at that wren, says every one. She's down, she's down, says Robin to Bobbin; How shall we get her home, says Robin to Bobbin; How shall we get her home, says Richard to Robin; How shall we get her home, says John all alone; How shall we get her home, says every one. We'll hire a cart, says Robin to Bobbin ; Then hoist, boys, hoist, says Robin to Bobbin; So they brought her away, after each pluck'd a feather, And when they got home, shar'd the booty together. CCLXX. As I was going up Pippen-hill There I met a pretty miss, And she dropt me a curtesy. L Little miss, pretty miss, CCLXXI. I AM a pretty wench, And I come a great way hence, And sweethearts I can get none: But every dirty sow, Can get sweethearts enow, And I, pretty wench, can get never a one. CCLXXII. THERE was a little boy and a little girl Says the little boy to the little girl, Says the little girl to the little boy, Says the little boy to the little girl, |