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CXCIX.

A Swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay;
A swarm of bees in June
Is worth a silver spoon;
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly.

CC.

St. Swithin's day, if thou dost rain,
For forty days it will remain :
St. Swithin's day, if thou be fair,
For forty days 'twill rain na mair.

CCI.

To make your candles last for aye,
Your wives and maids give ear-o!

To put 'em out's the only way,
Says honest John Boldero.

CCII.

Bounce Buckram velvet's dear;

Christmas comes but once a year.

CCIII.

The tailor of Bisiter,

He has but one eye;

He cannot cut a pair of green galagaskins,
If he were to try.

CCIV.

Needles and pins, needles and pins,
When a man marries his trouble begins.

CCV.

Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me ree!
None are so blind as those that won't see.

CCVI.

[One version of the following song, which I believe to be the genuine one, is written on the last leaf of MS. Harl. 6580, in a hand of the end of the seventeenth century, but unfortunately it is scarcely adapted for the "ears polite" of modern days.]

A man of words and not of deeds

Is like a garden full of weeds;
And when the weeds begin to grow,

It's like a garden full of snow;

And when the snow begins to fall,
It's like a bird upon the wall;
And when the bird away does fly,
It's like an eagle in the sky;
And when the sky begins to roar,
It's like a lion at the door;

And when the door begins to crack,
It's like a stick across your back;
And when your back begins to smart,
It's like a penknife in your heart;
And when your heart begins to bleed,
You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.

CCVII.

The little Robin Red-breast,

And Jenny Wren,

Are God Almighty's

Cock and hen.

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