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Admiral answer ballad beat began bells boys brave bring brought called Collection comes command dance dead death drink English eyes fair father fear fell fight fire five fleet France French gallant gave give given goes hand head hear heart Here's Jack John John Ball kill kind King kiss lady land leave legs live London Lord maid Maister Hobson married merry mother never night old woman play poor pounds pray present pretty printed queen quoth Richard ride ring Robin Robin Hood round sail says sent ship shot sing song soon stand stick taken tell thee thou took town true tune unto wife wind young
Page 74 - Hey, diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon!
Page 122 - One, two, Buckle my shoe; Three, four, Shut the door; Five, six, Pick up sticks; Seven, eight, Lay them straight; Nine, ten, A good fat hen; Eleven, twelve, Who will delve?
Page 29 - There was an old woman who lived In a shoe, She had so many children, she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth without any bread, She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Page 153 - JACK and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown And Jill came tumbling after.
Page 153 - THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT This is the farmer sowing his corn, That kept the cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog That worried the cat That killed the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.
Page 85 - As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives, Every wife had seven sacks, Every sack had seven cats, Every cat had seven kits— Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were going to St. Ives?
Page vii - Pussy cat, pussy cat. Where have you been? I've been to London To look at the queen. Pussy cat, pussy cat. What did you there? I frightened a little mouse Under her chair.
Page 36 - Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Wasn't that a dainty dish To set before the king?
Page 107 - Had been better far than dying Of a griev'd and broken heart. Unrepining at thy glory, Thy successful arms we hail ; But remember our sad story, And let Hosier's wrongs prevail. Sent in this foul clime to languish, Think what thousands fell in vain, Wasted with disease and anguish, Not in glorious battle slain. Hence with all my train attending From their oozy tombs below, Thro...