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 FARMER went trotting upon his gray mare, Bumpety, bumpety, bump! With his daughter behind him so rosy and fair, Lumpety, lumpety, lump! 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 A So off he march'd with his nice new hat, And on the way he met with a rat. When they came to the door of the mouse's hall, They gave a loud knock, and they gave a loud call. Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within? Oh, yes, Mr. Rat, I'm learning to spin. Pray, Mrs. Mouse, will you give us some beer? But as they were all a merry-making, |