CCLVI.

[The following was sung to the tune of Chevy Chace. It was taken from a poetical tale in the Choyce Poems,' 12mo, London, 1662, the music to which may be seen in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy,' 1719, vol. iv, p. 1.]

THREE children sliding on the ice

Upon a summer's day,

As it fell out, they all fell in,
The rest they ran away.

Now had these children been at home,
Or sliding on dry ground,
Ten thousand pounds to one penny
They had not all been drown'd.

You parents all that children have,
And you that have got none,
If you would have them safe abroad,
Pray keep them safe at home.

CCLVII.

THERE was a man of Newington,
And he was wondrous wise,
He jump'd into a quickset hedge,
And scratch'd out both his eyes:
But when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main
He jump'd into another hedge,
And scratch'd 'em in again.

CCLVIII.

Ir all the world was apple-pie,

And all the sea was ink,

And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What should we have for drink?

CCLIX.

[The following occurs in a MS. of the seventeenth century in the Sloane collection, the reference to which I have unfortunately mislaid.] THE man in the wilderness asked me,

How many strawberries grew in the sea?
I answered him, as I thought good,

many as red herrings grew in the wood.

CCLX.

[The conclusion of the following resembles a verse in the nursery history of Mother Hubbard.]

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; This plaguy old woman could never be quiet. She went to the baker, to buy her some bread, And when she came home her old husband was dead;

She went to the clerk to toll the bell,

And when she came back her old husband was

well.

CCLXI.

HERE am I, little jumping Joan;
When nobody's with me
I'm always alone.

CCLXII.

THERE was an old woman had nothing,
And there came thieves to rob her;
When she cried out she made no noise
But all the country heard her.

CCLXIII.

THERE was a little Guinea-pig,
Who, being little, was not big,
He always walked upon his feet,
And never fasted when he eat.

When from a place he ran away,
He never at that place did stay;
And while he ran, as I am told,
He ne'er stood still for young or old.

He often squeak'd, and sometimes vi❜lent,
And when he squeak'd he ne'er was silent:
Though ne'er instructed by a cat,

He knew a mouse was not a rat.

One day, as I am certified,
He took a whim and fairly died;
And, as I'm told by men of sense,
He never has been living since.

After Guido Reni.

TWELFTH CLASS-LULLABIES.

CCLXIV.

HUSHY baby, my doll, I pray you don't cry, And I'll give you some bread and some milk by and bye;

Or, perhaps you like custard, or may-be a

tart,

Then to either you're welcome, with all my whole heart.

ROCK-A-BYE, baby, thy cradle is green;
Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen;
And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring;
And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the
king.

CCLXVII.

BYE, O my baby!
When I was a lady,

O then my poor baby did'nt cry!
But my baby is weeping,

For want of good keeping,
Oh, I fear my poor baby will die!

CCLXVIII.

HUSH a bye a ba lamb,

Hush a bye a milk cow,

You shall have a little stick

To beat the naughty bow-wow.