Can you dry it on yonder thorn,

Parsley, &c.

Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?

And you, &c.

Now you have ask'd me questions three,
Parsley, &c.

I hope you'll answer as many for me,
And you, &c.

Can you find me an acre of land,

Parsley, &c.

Between the salt water and the sea sand?

And you, &c.

Can you plough it with a ram's horn,

Parsley, &c.

And sow it all over with one pepper-corn?

And you, &c.

Can you reap it with a sickle of leather,

Parsley, &c.

And bind it up with a peacock's feather?
And you, &c.

When you have done and finish'd your work,

Parsley, &c.

Then come to me for

your

cambric shirt,

And you, &c.

CCCXLIII.

LITTLE Tom Dandy

Was my first suitor,

He had a spoon and dish,
And a little pewter.

CCCXLIV.

LITTLE John Jiggy Jag,

He rode a penny nag,

And went to Wigan to woo:
When he came to a beck,
He fell and broke his neck,-
Johnny, how dost thou now?

I made him a hat,

Of my coat-lap,

And stockings of pearly blue:

A hat and a feather,

To keep out cold weather;

So, Johnny, how dost thou now?

CCCXLV.

JACK and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;

Jack fell down, and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.

CCCXLVI.

[The following version is taken from Douce's MS. additions to Ritson, but the more common one commences "When I was a bachelor I lived by myself."]

THERE was a little pretty lad,

And he lived by himself,
And all the meat he got

He put upon a shelf.

The rats and the mice

Did lead him such a life,

That he went to Ireland
To get himself a wife.

The lanes they were so broad,

And the fields they were so narrow, He couldn't get his wife home Without a wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow broke,

My wife she got a kick,
The deuce take the wheelbarrow,
That spared my wife's neck.

CCCXLVII.

ROWLEY POLEY, pudding and pie,

Kissed the girls and made them cry;

When the girls begin to cry,

Rowley Poley runs away.

THE Cuckoo's a fine bird,

He sings as he flies;

He brings us good tidings,
He tells us no lies.

He sucks little birds' eggs,

To make his voice clear;

And when he sings "cuckoo !" The summer is near.

CCCXLIX.

THE cat sat asleep by the side of the fire,
The mistress snored loud as a pig:
Jack took up his fiddle, by Jenny's desire,
And struck up a bit of a jig.

CCCL.

I HAD a little hobby-horse, and it was well shod,

It carried me to the mill-door, trod, trod, trod;
When I got there I gave a great shout,

Down came the hobby-horse, and I cried out.
Fie upon the miller, he was a great beast,
He would not come to my house, I made a
little feast,

I had but little, but I would give him some, For playing of his bag-pipes and beating his drum.

CCCLI.

I HAD a little dog, and his name was Blue Bell,
I gave him some work, and he did it very well;
I sent him up-stairs to pick up a pin,
He stepped in the coal-scuttle up to the chin;
I sent him to the garden to pick some sage,
He tumbled down and fell in a rage;

I sent him to the cellar, to draw a pot of beer, He came up again and said there was noue there.