Part 30 (2/2)

_Suitors._

Be she young, or be she old, For her beauty she must be sold.

So fare you well, my lady gay, We'll call again another day.

_Mother._

_Turn back, turn back, thou scornful knight, And rub thy spurs till they be bright._

_Suitors._

Of my spurs take you no thought, For in this town they were not bought, So fare you well, my lady gay, We'll call again another day.

_Mother._

_Turn back, turn back, thou scornful knight, And take the fairest in your sight._

_Suitor._

The fairest maid that I can see, Is pretty Nancy,--come to me.

Here comes your daughter safe and sound, Every pocket with a thousand pound; Every finger with a gay gold ring; Please to take your daughter in.

CCCx.x.xIV.

[A game on the slate.]

Eggs, b.u.t.ter, bread, Stick, stock, stone dead!

Stick him up, stick him down, Stick him in the old man's crown!

CCCx.x.xV.

[In the following childish amus.e.m.e.nt, one extends his arm, and the other in ill.u.s.tration of the narrative, strikes him gently with the side of his hand at the shoulder and wrist; and then at the word ”middle,” with considerable force, on the flexor muscles at the elbow-joint.]

My father was a Frenchman, He bought for me a fiddle, He cut me here, he cut me here, He cut me right in the middle.

CCCx.x.xVI.

[Patting the foot on the five toes.]

Shoe the colt, shoe!

Shoe the wild mare; Put a sack on her back, See if she'll bear.

If she'll bear, We'll give her some grains; If she won't bear, We'll dash out her brains!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

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