THE The stars were shining, and all things bright; Oh, ho! said the fox, it's a very fine night For me to go through the town, e-oh! The fox when he came to yonder stile, The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, And long to be picking your bones, e-oh! The gray goose she ran round the hay-stack; From this into yonder town, e-oh! The farmer's wife she jump'd out of bed, And out of the window she popped her head: The farmer he loaded his pistol with lead, you think? She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink: Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet, And yet this old woman could never be quiet. 49. ITTLE Jack Horner sat in a corner, L' Eating his Christmas pie; He put in his thumb, and pull'd out a plum, And said, What a good boy am I! OLD King Cole 50. Was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He call'd for his pipe, And he call'd for his bowl, And he call'd for his fiddlers three. Every fiddler, he had a fine fiddle, Oh, there's none so rare As can compare A raven cried, Croak! and they all tumbled down, Bumpety, bumpety, bump! The mare broke her knees, and the farmer his crown, Lumpety, lumpety, lump! The mischievous raven flew laughing away, Bumpety, bumpety, bump! And vow'd he would serve them the same the next day, Lumpety, lumpety, lump! GAY go up and gay go down, up To ring the bells of London town. Halfpence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's. Oranges and lemons, Say the bells of St. Clement's. Pancakes and fritters, Say the bells of St. Peter's. Kettles and pans, Say the bells of St. Ann's. You owe me ten shillings, When will you pay me? When I grow rich, Say the bells of Shoreditch. Pray when will that be? I am sure I don't know, сохок |