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THE fox jump'd up on a moonlight night;

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,
He lifted his ears, and he listen'd a while;
Oh, ho! said the fox, it's but a short mile
From this unto yonder town, e-oh!

The fox when he came to the farmer's gate,
Who should he see but the farmer's drake;
I love you well for your master's sake,

And long to be picking your bones, e-oh!

The gray goose she ran round the hay-stack;
Oh, ho! said the fox, you are very fat;
You'll do very well to ride on my back

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:
O husband! O husband! the geese are all dead,
For the fox has been through the town, e-oh!

The farmer he loaded his pistol with lead,
And shot the old rogue of a fox through the head;
Ah, ha, said the farmer, I think you're quite dead,
And no more you'll trouble the town, e-oh!

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THERE
THERE was an old woman, and what do

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!

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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,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee,
went the fiddlers.

Oh, there's none so rare

As can compare

With King Cole and his fiddlers three.

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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!

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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,
Say the bells of St. Helen's.

When will you pay me?
Say the bells of Old Bailey.

When I grow rich,

Say the bells of Shoreditch.

Pray when will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.

I am sure I don't know,
Says the great bell of Bow.

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