66 ROBIN, BOBBIN, RICHARD, AND JOHN. “WE'LL go a-shooting," says Robin to Bobbin ; “We'll go a-shooting,” says Richard to John; “We'll go a-shooting,” says John all alone; “We'll go a-shooting,” says every one. “What shall we kill ?" says Robin to Bobbin ; What shall we kill ?” says Richard to John; “What shall we kill ?” says John all alone; What shall we kill ?" says every one. “We'll shoot at that wren !" says Robin to Bobbin; “ We'll shoot at that wren !” says Richard to John; “We'll shoot at that wren !” says John all alone; “We'll shoot at that wren !” says every one. "She's down, she's down !" says Robin to Bobbin ; "She's down, she's down !” says Richard to John; “She's down, she's down !" says John all alone; “She's down, she's down !" says every one. " How shall we get her home?” says Robin to Bobbin ; “ How shall we get her home?” says Richard to John ; “How shall we get her home?" says John all alone; “How shall we get her home?” says every one. A' THE NichT OWER AND OWER. 205 We'll hire a cart !" says Robin to Bobbin; “We'll hire a cart !” says Richard to John; “We'll hire a cart!" says John all alone; “We'll hire a cart !” says every one. Then, hoist, boys, hoist !” says Robin to Bobbin ; " Then, hoist, boys, hoist !” says Richard to John; Then, hoist, boys, hoist !” says John all alone ; “ Then, hoist, boys, hoist !" says every one. So they brought her away, after each plucked a feather, And, when they got home, shared the booty together. A' THE NICHT OWER AND OWER. And a' the nicht ower again, The peacock followed the hen. The cock is hollow within ; A' the nicht ower, &c. a THE POOR WOMAN OF BABYLON. A pleasant game, played by a ring of children, with a girl (or boy) in the centre. CHILDREN (dancing round). Here comes a poor woman from Babylon, [The girl (or boy) in the centre chooses a boy (or girl) from the ring, and both then stand together in the centre. CHILDREN (dancing round). Now you're married we wish you joy, [They do so, the child in the centre when the game began goes into the ring, the other remains in the centre, and the game begins anew. CATTIE SITS IN THE KILN-RING. 207 THE CATTIE SITS IN THE KILN-RING. THE cattie sits in the kiln-ring, Spinning, spinning, And by came a little wee mouse, Running, running. “Oh, what's that you're spinning, my loesome, Loesome lady?” “I'm spinning a sark to my young son," Said she, said she. "I soopit my house, my loesome, : Loesome lady;" “ 'Twas a sign ye didna sit amang dirt then,” Said she, said she. “Weel mat he brook it, my loesome, Loesome lady;" “ Gif he dinna brook it weel, he may brook it ill,” Said she, said she. “I fand twall pennies, my winsome, Winsome lady;" “ 'Twas a sign ye warna sillerless,” Said she, said she. “I gaed to the market, my loesome, Loesome lady;" “'Twas a sign ye didna sit at hame, then,” Said she, said she. “I coft a sheep's head, my winsome, Winsome lady;" “'Twas a sign ye warna kitchenless," Said she, said she. "I put it in my pottie to boil, my loesome, Loesome lady;" “'Twas a sign ye didna eat it raw," Said she, said she. "I put it in my winnock to cool, my winsome, Winsome lady ;" “'Twas a sign ye didna burn your chafts, then," Said she, said she. “By cam'a cattie and eat it a' up, my loesome, Loesome lady;" "And sae will I you—worrie, worrie, gnash, gnash.” Said she, said she. |