Little Johnny Pringle had a little Pig.
It was very little, so was not very big.
As it was playing beneath the shed,
In half a minute poor Piggy was dead.

So Johnny Pringle he sat down and cried,

And Betty Pringle she laid down and died. There is the history of one, two and three, Johnny Pringle, Betty Pringle, and Piggy Wiggie.

Once in my life I married a wife,

And where do you think I found her ? On Gretna Green, in velvet sheen,

And I took up a stick to pound her. She jumped over a barberry-bush,

And I jumped over a timber, I showed her a gay gold ring,

And she showed me her finger.

Ride a cock horse to Charing-Cross,

To see a young woman

Jump on a white horse,
With rings on her fingers

And bells on her toes,
And she shall have music

Wherever she goes.

Johnny shall have a new bonnet,

And Johnny shall go to the fair, And Johnny shall have a new ribbon

To tie up his bonny brown hair. And why may not I love Johnny,

And why may not Johnny love me? And why may not I love Johnny

As well as another body ? And here's a leg for a stocking,

And here's a foot for a shoe, And he has a kiss for daddy,

And two for his mammy also. And why may not I love Johnny ?

And why, &c. &c.

Who comes here ? A Grenadier.
What do you want? A pot of beer.
Where's your money? I forgot.
Get you gone, you drunken sot.

Smiling girls, rosy boys,

Monkeys made of gingerbread
And sugar horses painted red.

MAIS