I HAD a little pony,

His name was Dapple-gray, I lent him to a lady,

To ride a mile away: She whipped him, she slashed him,

She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my pony now For all the lady's hire.

I
LOST

my little mare in Lincoln-
Lane,
And couldn't tell where to find

her, Till she came home both lame and

blind, With never a tale behind her.

I HAD a little doll, the prettiest

ever seen, She washed up the dishes, and kept

the house clean. She went to the mill to fetch me

some flour, And always got it home in less

than an hour. She baked me my bread, she brew

ed me my ale, She sat by the fire, and told me a

tale.

IF all the world were apple-pie,

And all the sea was ink, And all the trees were bread and

cheese, What should we have for drink?