CCLXXXVIII.

I HAD a little hobby-horse, and it was well shod,
It carried me to the mill-door, trod, trod, trod;
When I got there I gave a great shout,

Down came the hobby-horse, and I cried out.
Fie upon the miller, he was a great beast,

He would not come to my house, I made a little feast;

I had but little, but I would give him some,

For playing of his bagpipes and beating his drum.

CCLXXXIX.

DANCE, little baby, dance up high,
Never mind, baby, mother is by;
Crow and caper, caper and crow,

There, little baby, there you go;
Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,

Backwards and forwards, round and round;

Dance, little baby, and mother will sing,
With the merry coral, ding, ding, ding.

CCXC.

IF all the seas were one sea,
What a great sea would that be!
And if all the trees were one tree,
What a great tree that would be!

And if all the axes were one axe,
What a great axe that would be!
And if all the men were one man,
What a great man he would be!
And if the great man took the great axe,

And cut down the great tree,

And let it fall into the great sea,

What a splish splash that would be!!

CCXCI.

JOHN BALL shot them all;
John Scott made the shot,

But John Ball shot them all.

John Wyming made the priming,
And John Brammer made the rammer,

And John Scott made the shot,
But John Ball shot them all.

John Block made the stock,
And John Brammer made the rammer,
And John Wyming made the priming,
And John Scott made the shot,

But John Ball shot them all.

John Crowder made the powder,
And John Block made the stock,

And John Wyming made the priming, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Scott made the shot,

But John Ball shot them all.

John Puzzle made the muzzle,
And John Crowder made the powder,
And John Block made the stock,
And John Wyming made the priming,
And John Brammer made the rammer,
And John Scott made the shot,

But John Ball shot them all.

John Clint made the flint,
And John Puzzle made the muzzle,
And John Crowder made the powder,
And John Block made the stock,
And John Wyming made the priming,
And John Brammer made the rammer,
And John Scott made the shot,

But John Ball shot them all.

John Patch made the match,
John Clint made the flint,
John Puzzle made the muzzle,
John Crowder made the powder,
John Block made the stock,
John Wyming made the priming,
John Brammer made the rammer,
John Scott made the shot,

But John Ball shot them all.

CCXCII.

LITTLE Tommy Tacket,

Sits upon his cracket ;*

Half a yard of cloth will make him coat and jacket; Make him coat and jacket,

Breeches to the knee.

And if you will not have him, you may let him be.

* A little three-legged stool seen by the ingle of every cottage in the north of England.

Fourteenth Class.-Fragments.

CCXCIII.

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.

CCXCIV.

WHEN I was a little boy, I had but little wit,
It is some time ago and I've no more yet;

Nor ever ever shall, until that I die,
For the longer I live, the more fool am I.

CCXCV.

CROSS patch,

Draw the latch,

Sit by the fire and spin;

Take a cup,

And drink it up,

And call your neighbours in.