Part 2

Away then went those pretty babes, Rejoycing at that tide, Rejoycing with a merry minde, They should on cock-horse ride.

They prate and prattle pleasantly As they rode on the waye, To those that should their butchers be, And work their lives’ decaye:

So that the pretty speeche they had, Made murderers’ heart relent; And they that undertooke the deed, Full sore did now repent.

Yet one of them, more hard of heart, Did vow to do his charge, Because the wretch, that hired him, Had paid him very large.

The other would not agree thereto, So here they fell to strife; With one another they did fight, About the children’s life:

And he that was of mildest mood Did slaye the other there, Within an unfrequented wood, Where babes did quake for feare!

He took the children by the hand, While teares stood in their eye, And bade them come and go with him, And look they did not crye:

And two long miles he ledd them on, While they for food complaine: “Stay here,” quoth he, “I’ll bring ye bread, When I come back againe.”

These prettye babes, with hand in hand, Went wandering up and downe;

But never more they sawe the man Approaching from the town.

Their prettye lippes with blackberries Were all besmear’d and dyed;

And when they sawe the darksome night, They sat them downe and cryed.

Thus wandered these two prettye babes, Till death did end their grief; In one another’s armes they dyed, As babes wanting relief.

No burial these prettye babes Of any man receives,

Till Robin-redbreast painfully Did cover them with leaves.

THE THREE JOVIAL HUNTSMEN.

It’s of three jovial huntsmen, an’ a hunting they did go; An’ they hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ they blew their horns also. Look ye there!

An’ one said, “Mind yo’r e’en, an’ keep yo’r noses reet i’ th’ wind.

An’ then, by scent or seet, we’ll leet o’ summat to our mind.” Look ye there!

They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the first thing they did find Was a tatter’t boggart, in a field, an’ that they left behind. Look ye there!

One said it was a boggart, an’ another he said “Nay; It’s just a ge’man-farmer, that has gone an’ lost his way.” Look ye there!

They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the next thing they did find Was a gruntin’, grindin’ grindlestone, an’ that they left behind. Look ye there!

One said it was a grindlestone, another he said “Nay; It’s nought but an’ owd fossil cheese, that somebody’s roll’t away.” Look ye there!

They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the next thing they did find Was a bull-calf in a pin-fold, an’ that, too, they left behind. Look ye there!

One said it was a bull-calf, an’ another he said “Nay; It’s just a painted jackass, that has never larnt to bray.” Look ye there!

They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the next thing they did find Was a two-three children leaving school, an’ these they left behind. Look ye there!

One said that they were children, but another he said “Nay; They’re no’ but little angels, so we’ll leave ’em to their play.” Look ye there!

They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the next thing they did find Was a fat pig smiling in a ditch, an’ that, too, they left behind. Look ye there!

One said it was a fat pig, but another he said “Nay; It’s just a Lunnon Alderman, whose clothes are stole away.” Look ye there!

They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the next thing they did find Was two young lovers in a lane, an’ these they left behind. Look ye there!

One said that they were lovers, but another he said “Nay; They’re two poor wanderin’ lunatics come, let us go away.” Look ye there!

So they hunted, an’ they hollo’d, till the setting of the sun; An’ they’d nought to bring away at last, when th’ huntin’-day was done. Look ye there!

Then one unto the other said, “This huntin’ doesn’t pay; But we’n powler’t up an’ down a bit, an’ had a rattlin’ day.” Look ye there!

SING A SONG FOR SIXPENCE.

Sing a Song for Sixpence.

A Pocketful

of Rye;

Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds

Baked

in a Pie.

When the Pie was opened, The Birds began to sing;

Was not that

a dainty Dish

To set before the King?

The King was in

his Counting-house,

Counting out his Money.

The Queen was in

the Parlour,

Eating Bread and Honey.

The Maid was in

the Garden,

Hanging out the Clothes;

There came a little Blackbird,

And snapped off her Nose.

But there came a Jenny Wren and popped it on again.

THE QUEEN OF HEARTS.

The Queen of Hearts, She made some Tarts,

All on a Summer’s Day:

The Knave of Hearts, He stole those Tarts,

And took them right away.

The King of Hearts, Called for those Tarts,

And beat the Knave full sore:

The Knave of Hearts, Brought back those Tarts,

And vowed he’d steal no more.

THE FARMER’S BOY.

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s HORSES. With a GEE-WO here, and a GEE-WO there, And here a GEE, and there a GEE, And everywhere a GEE; Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s LAMBS. With a BAA-BAA here, and a BAA-BAA there, And here a BAA, and there a BAA, And everywhere a BAA; With a GEE-WO here, and a GEE-WO there, And here a GEE, and there a GEE, And everywhere a GEE; Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s HENS. With a CHUCK-CHUCK here, and a CHUCK-CHUCK there, And here a CHUCK, and there a CHUCK, And everywhere a CHUCK; With a BAA-BAA here, and a BAA-BAA there, And here a BAA, and there a BAA, And everywhere a BAA; With a GEE-WO here, and a GEE-WO there, &c., &c., &c. Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s PIGS. With a GRUNT-GRUNT here, and a GRUNT-GRUNT there, And here a GRUNT, and there a GRUNT, And everywhere a GRUNT; With a CHUCK-CHUCK here, and a CHUCK-CHUCK there, And here a CHUCK, and there a CHUCK, And everywhere a CHUCK; With a BAA-BAA here, and a BAA-BAA there, &c., &c., &c. With a GEE-WO here, and a GEE-WO there, &c., &c., &c. Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s DUCKS. With a QUACK-QUACK here, and a QUACK-QUACK there, And here a QUACK, and there a QUACK, And everywhere a QUACK; With a GRUNT-GRUNT here, and a GRUNT-GRUNT there, &c., &c., &c. With a CHUCK-CHUCK here, &c. With a BAA-BAA here, &c. With a GEE-WO here, &c. Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I use to keep my master’s DOGS, With a BOW-BOW here, and a BOW-WOW there, And here a BOW, and there a WOW, And everywhere a WOW; With a QUACK-QUACK here, and a QUACK-QUACK there, &c., &c., &c. With a GRUNT-GRUNT here, &c. With a CHUCK-CHUCK here, &c. With a BAA-BAA here, &c. With a GEE-WO here, &c. Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s CHILDREN. With a SHOUTING here, and a POUTING there, And here a SHOUT, and there a POUT, And everywhere a SHOUT; With a BOW-BOW here, and a BOW-WOW there. &c., &c., &c. With a QUACK-QUACK here, &c. With a GRUNT-GRUNT here, &c. With a CHUCK-CHUCK here, &c. With a BAA-BAA here, &c. With a GEE-WO here, &c. Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

When I was a farmer, a Farmer’s Boy, I used to keep my master’s TURKEYS. With a GOBBLE-GOBBLE here, and a GOBBLE-GOBBLE there, And here a GOBBLE, and there a GOBBLE, And everywhere a GOBBLE; With a SHOUTING here, and a POUTING there, &c., &c., &c. With a BOW-WOW here, &c. With a QUACK-QUACK here, &c. With a GRUNT-GRUNT here, &c. With a CHUCK-CHUCK here, &c. With a BAA-BAA here, &c. With a GEE-WO here, &c. Says I, My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?

THE MILKMAID.

The MILKMAID.

An Old Song exhibited and explained in many designs by R. Caldecott.

A LADY said to her Son--a poor young SQUIRE: “You must seek a Wife with a Fortune!”

“Where are you going, my Pretty Maid?” “I’m going a-milking, Sir,” she said.

“Shall I go with you, my Pretty Maid?” “Oh yes, if you please, kind Sir,” she said.

“What is your Father, my Pretty Maid?”

“My Father’s a Farmer, Sir,” she said.

“Shall I marry you, my Pretty Maid?” “Oh thank you, kindly, Sir,” she said.

“But what is your fortune, my Pretty Maid?” “My face is my fortune, Sir,” she said.

“Then I can’t marry you, my Pretty Maid!” “Nobody asked you, Sir!” she said.

“Nobody asked you, Sir!” she said.

“Sir!” she said.

“Nobody asked you, Sir!” she said.

HEY DIDDLE DIDDLE.

Hey, diddle, diddle,

The Cat

and the Fiddle.

The Cow jumped over the Moon,

The little Dog laughed

to see such fun,

And the Dish ran away with the Spoon.

BABY BUNTING.

Bye, Baby Bunting!

Father’s

gone

a-hunting.

Gone to fetch

a Rabbit-skin

To wrap the Baby Bunting in.

A FROG HE WOULD A-WOOING GO.

A FROG he would a-wooing go, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! Whether his Mother would let him or no. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

So off he set with his opera-hat, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! And on his way he met with a Rat. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY.

“Pray, Mr. RAT, will you go with me,” _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! “Pretty Miss MOUSEY for to see?” _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

Now they soon arrived at MOUSEY’S Hall, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! And gave a loud knock, and gave a loud call. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

“Pray, Miss MOUSEY, are you within?” _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! “Oh, yes, kind Sirs, I’m sitting to spin.”

_With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

“Pray, Miss Mouse, will you give us some beer?” _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! “For Froggy and I are fond of good cheer.”

_With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_

_Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

“Pray, Mr. FROG, will you give us a song?” _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! “But let it be something that’s not very long.” _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

“Indeed, Miss MOUSE,” replied Mr. FROG, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! “A cold has made me as hoarse as a Hog.” _With a rowley-powley, Gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

“Since you have caught cold,” Miss MOUSEY said, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! “I’ll sing you a song that I have just made.” _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

But while they were all thus a merry-making, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! A Cat and her Kittens came tumbling in. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

The Cat she seized the Rat by the crown; _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! The Kittens they pulled the little Mouse down. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

This put Mr. FROG in a terrible fright; _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! He took up his hat, and he wished them good night. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

But as Froggy was crossing a silvery brook, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! A lily-white Duck came and gobbled him up. _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

So there was an end of one, two, and three, _Heigho, says_ ROWLEY! The Rat, the Mouse, and the little Frog-gee! _With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,_ _Heigho, says_ ANTHONY ROWLEY!

THE FOX JUMPS OVER THE PARSON’S GATE.

The Huntsman blows his horn in the morn, When folks goes hunting, oh! When folks goes hunting, oh! When folks goes hunting, oh! The Huntsman blows his horn in the morn, When folks goes hunting, oh!

The Fox jumps over the PARSON’S gate, And the Hounds all after him go, And the Hounds all after him go, And the Hounds all after him go.

But all my fancy dwells on NANCY, So I’ll cry, TALLY-HO! So I’ll cry, TALLY-HO!

Now the PARSON had a pair to wed As the Hounds came full in view He tossed his surplice over his head, And bid them all adieu!

But all my fancy dwelt on NANCY, So he cried, TALLY-HO! So he cried, TALLY-HO!

Oh! never despise the soldier-lad Though his station be but low, Though his station be but low, Though his station be but low.

But all my fancy dwells on NANCY, So I’ll cry, TALLY-HO!

Then pass around the can, my boys; For we must homewards go, For we must homewards go, For we must homewards go. And if you ask me of this song The reason for to shew, I don’t exactly know--ow ow, I don’t exactly know.

But all my fancy dwells on NANCY, So I’ll sing, TALLY-HO! So I’ll sing, TALLY-HO! But all my fancy dwells on NANCY, So I’ll sing, TALLY-HO!

COME LASSES AND LADS.

Come Lasses and Lads, get leave of your Dads,

And away to the May-pole hey:

For every he Has got him a she, With a Minstrel standing by.

For WILLY has gotten his JILL, And JOHNNY has got his JONE, To jigg it, jigg it, jigg it, jigg it, Jigg it up and down.

“Strike up,” says WATT; “Agreed,” says KATE, “And I prithee, Fiddler, play;” “Content,” says HODGE, and so says MADGE, For this is a Holiday! Then every man did put his hat off to his lass. And every girl did curchy, curchy, curchy on the grass.

“Begin,” says HALL; “Ay, ay,” says MALL, “We’ll lead up Pockington’s pound;” “No, no,” says NOLL, and so says DOLL, “We’ll first have Sellenger’s round.”

Then every man began to foot it round about. And every girl did jet it, Jet it, jet it in and out.

“You’re out,” says DICK; “Not I,” says NICK, “The Fiddler played it false;” “’Tis true,” says HUGH, and so says SUE, And so says nimble ALICE.

The Fiddler then began to play the tune again, And every girl did trip it, Trip it, trip it to the men.

Then after an hour, they went to a bower, And played for ale and cakes. And kisses too--until they were due the lasses held the stakes.

The girls did then begin to quarrel with the men, And bid them take their kisses back, and give them their own again. And bid them take their kisses back, and give them their own again.

Now there they did stay the whole of the day, And tired the Fiddler quite, With singing and playing, without any paying, From morning until night.

They told the Fiddler then, they’d pay him for his play,

And each a 2-pence, 2-pence, 2-pence, gave him and went away.

“Good-night,” says HARRY; “Good-night,” says MARY; “Good-night,” says DOLLY to JOHN;” “Good-night,” says SUE, to her sweetheart HUGH, “Good-night,” says everyone.

Some walked and some did run, Some loitered on the way, And bound themselves, by kisses twelve, To meet the next Holiday. And bound themselves, by kisses twelve, To meet the next Holiday.

RIDE A COCK-HORSE TO BANBURY CROSS.

Ride a Cock-Horse To Banbury Cross,

To see a fine Lady Get on a white Horse,

With rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes, She shall have music wherever she goes.

A FARMER WENT TROTTING UPON HIS GREY MARE.