LXXI.

PEMMY was a pretty girl,

But Fanny was a better; Pemmy looked like any churl, When little Fanny let her.

Pemmy had a pretty nose,

But Fanny had a better; Pemmy oft would come to blows,

But Fanny would not let her.

Pemmy had a pretty doll,
But Fanny had a better;
Pemmy chattered like a poll,
When little Fanny let her.

TAFFY was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief;

Taffy came to my house and stole a piece of beef; I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not at home; Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow-bone.

I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not in;
Taffy came to my house and stole a silver pin;

I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed,

I took up a poker and flung it at his head.

LXXIII.

The man in the moon

Came tumbling down,

And asked his way to Norwich:

He went by the south,

And burnt his mouth.

With supping cold pease-porridge.

LXXIV.

[The rhyme of Jack Horner has been stated to be a satire on the Puritanical aversion to Christmas pies and suchlike abominations. It forms part of a metrical chap-book history, founded on the same story as the Friar and the Boy, entitled "The Pleasant History of Jack Horner, containing his witty tricks and pleasant pranks which he played from his youth to his riper years: right pleasant and delightful for winter and summer's recreation," embellished with frightful woodcuts, which have not much connection with the tale. The pleasant history commences as follows:

Jack Horner was a pretty lad,

Near London he did dwell,
His father's heart he made full glad,
His mother lov'd him well.
While little Jack was sweet and young,
If he by chance should cry,
His mother pretty sonnets sung,
With a lul-la-ba-by,

With such a dainty curious tone,
As Jack sat on her knee,
So that ere he could go alone
He sung as well as she.

Here we have an important discovery!
was written by Jack Horner himself?]

A pretty boy of curious wit,

All people spoke his praise,
And in the corner would he sit
In Christmas holidays.
When friends they did together meet
To pass away the time,

Why, little Jack, he sure would eat
His Christmas pie in rhyme.

And said, Jack Horner, in the corner,
Eats good Christmas pie,

And with his thumbs pulls out the plums,
And said, Good boy am I !

Who before suspected that the nursery rhyme

LITTLE JACK HORNER sat in the corner,
Fating a Christmas pie;

LXXV.

My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind,
Went round about the house to find
A chink to get her foot in:
She tried the key-hole in the door,
She tried the crevice in the floor,
And drove the chimney soot in.

And then one night when it was dark,
She blew up such a tiny spark

That all the house was pothered:

From it she raised up such a flame
As flamed away to Belting Lane,

And White Cross folks were smothered.

And thus when once, my little dears,
A whisper reaches itching ears,

The same will come, you'll find:
Take my advice, restrain the tongue,
Remember what old Nurse has sung
Of busy Lady Wind!

LXXVI.

OLD Abram Brown is dead and gone,
You'll never see him more;

He used to wear a long brown coat,
That buttoned down before.