MY MOTHER'S BOUNCING GAL. 81 THE SPINNER. THERE was an old woman sat spinning, And that's the first beginning; She had a calf, And that's half; She threw it over the wall And that's all. MY MOTHER'S BOUNCING GAL. WHAT care I how black I be, THOUGH A LASS BE NE'ER SO FAIR. THOUGH a lass be ne'er so fair, If she want the penny siller, Ere the wind blow a man till her. Though a lass be ne'er so black, Set her up on Tintock tap, The wind will blow a man till her. A SCHOOLBOY'S CONFESSION. As a cedar tall and slender; Sweet cowslips grace her nominative case, ON SATURDAY NIGHT. ON Saturday night On Sunday morning JACK AND GILL. JACK and Gill Went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down, And broke his crown, And Gill came tumbling after. BLOW THE FIRE, BLACKSMITH! BLOW the fire, blacksmith! I'd sooner have a young man, An old man comes grumbling in- A young man comes jumping in— "Come, kiss me, my dear wife!" |