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Mary had a pretty bird,
Feathers bright and yel-



Slender legs, upon my

word He was a pretty fellow.


The sweetest notes he always sung,

Which much delighted Mary,
And often where the cage was hung,

She stood to hear Canary.

This is the way the ladies ride,

Prim, prim, prim;
This is the way the gentlemen ride,

Trim, trim, trim.
Presently come the country-folks,

Hobbledy gee, hobbledy gee.

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Tom, Tom, of Islington,
Married a wife on Sunday,
Bro't her home on Monday,
Hired a house on Tuesday,
Fed her well on Wednesday
Sick was she on Thursday.
Dead was she on Friday,
Sad was Tom on Saturday,
To bury his wife on Sunday.




I had a little husband no bigger than my thumb,
I put him in a pint pot, and there I bid him drum;
I bought a little handkerchief to wipe his little nose,
And a pair of little garters to tie his little hose.

As I was going to St. Ives,

I met seven wives,
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits.

Kits, cats, sacks and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives ?

Miss Jane had a bag, and a mouse was in it,

She opened the bag, he was out in a minute ; The Cat saw him jump, and run under the table, And the dog said, catch him, puss, soon as you're able

Cross Patch, draw the latch,

Sit by the fire and spin ;
Take a cup, and drink it up,

Then call your neighbours in.

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See-saw, Margery Daw, Sold her bed, and lay upon straw. Was not she a dirty slut, To sell her bed and lay in the dirt ?

What care I how black I be ?
Twenty pounds will marry me.
If twenty won't, forty shall,
I'm my mother's bouncing girl.

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