LITTLE Johnny Pringle had a little Pig, So Johnny Pringle he sat down and cried, PETER PIPER picked a peck of pickled pepper; BLOW, wind, blow! and go, mill, go! And into rolls make it, And send us some hot in the morn. THERE was an old woman toss'd up in a basket, Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I, Shall I go with thee? Ay, by and by. "ROBERT BARNS, fellow fine, As well as any other man : There's a nail, and there's a prod, And now, good sir, your horse is shod." |