FOURTEENTH CLASS. LOVE AND MATRIMONY.

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CCCCXXXIX.

A

s I was going up Pippen-hill,

Pippen-hill was dirty,

There I met a pretty miss,

And she dropt me a curtsey.

Little miss, pretty miss,

Blessings light upon you!

If I had half-a-crown a day,

I'd spend it all on you.

CCCCXL.

Brave news is come to town,

Brave news is carried;

Brave news is come to town,

Jemmy Dawson's married.

CCCCXLI.

Willy, Willy Wilkin,

Kissed the maids a-milking,

Fa, la, la!

And with his merry daffing,

He set them all a laughing.

Ha, ha, ha!

CCCCXLII.

It's once I courted as pretty a lass,

As ever your eyes did see;

But now she's come to such a pass,

She never will do for me.

She invited me to her own house,

Where oft I'd been before,

And she tumbled me into the hog-tub,

And I'll never go there any more.

CCCCXLIII.

Sylvia, sweet as morning air,

Do not drive me to despair:

Long have I sighed in vain,

Now I am come again,

Will you be mine or no, no-a-no,—

Will you be mine or no?

Simon pray leave off your suit,

For of your courting you'll reap no fruit,

I would rather give a crown

Than be married to a clown;

Go for a booby, go, no-a-no,—

Go, for a booby, go.

CCCCXLIV.

What care I how black I be,

Twenty pounds will marry me;

If twenty won't, forty shall,

I am my mother's bouncing girl!

CCCCXLV.

"Where have you been all the day,

My boy Willy?"

"I've been all the day,

Courting of a lady gay:

But oh! she's too young

To be taken from her mammy."

"What work can she do,

My boy Willy?

Can she bake and can she brew,

My boy Willy?"

"She can brew and she can bake,

And she can make our wedding cake:

But oh! she's too young

To be taken from her mammy."

"What age may she be? What age may she be?

My boy Willy?"

"Twice two, twice seven,

Twice ten twice eleven:

But oh! she's too young

To be taken from her mammy."

CCCCXLVI.

[This is part of a little work called 'Authentic Memoirs of the little Man and the little Maid, with some interesting particulars of their lives,' which I suspect is more modern than the following. Walpole printed a small broadside containing a different version.]

There was a little man,

And he woo'd a little maid,

And he said, "little maid, will you wed, wed, wed?

I have little more to say,

Than will you, yea or nay,

For least said is soonest mended-ded, ded, ded."

The little maid replied,

Some say a little sighed,

"But what shall we have for to eat, eat, eat?

Will the love that you're so rich in

Make a fire in the kitchen?

Or the little god of Love turn the spit, spit, spit?"

CCCCXLVII.

There was a little boy and a little girl

Lived in an alley;

Says the little boy to the little girl,

"Shall I, oh! shall I?"

Says the little girl to the little boy,

"What shall we do?"

Says the little boy to the little girl,

"I will kiss you."

CCCCXLVIII.

A cow and a calf,

An ox and a half,

Forty good shillings and three;

Is that not enough tocher

For a shoe-maker's daughter,

A bonny lass with a black e'e?

CCCCXLIX.

O the little rusty, dusty, rusty miller!

I'll not change my wife for either gold or siller.

CCCCL.

As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks

Were walking out one Sunday,

Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,

"To-morrow will be Monday."

CCCCLI.

Little Jack Jingle,

He used to live single:

But when he got tired of this kind of life,

He left off being single, and liv'd with his wife.

CCCCLII.

When shall we be married,

My dear Nicholas Wood?

We will be married on Monday,

And will not that be very good?

What, shall we be married no sooner?

Why sure the man's gone wood!*

What shall we have for our dinner,

My dear Nicholas Wood?

We will have bacon and pudding,

And will not that be very good?

What, shall we have nothing more?

Why sure the man's gone wood!

Who shall we have at our wedding,

My dear Nicholas Wood?

We will have mammy and daddy,

And will not that be very good?

What, shall we have nobody else?

Why sure the man's gone wood!

* Mad. This sense of the word has long been obsolete; and exhibits therefore, the antiquity of these lines.]

CCCCLIII.

Tommy Trot, a man of law,

Sold his bed and lay upon straw:

Sold the straw and slept on grass,

To buy his wife a looking-glass.

CCCCLIV.

We're all dry with drinking on't.

We're all dry with drinking on't;

The piper spoke to the fiddler's wife,

And I can't sleep for thinking on't.

CCCCLV.

"John, come sell thy fiddle,

And buy thy wife a gown."

"No, I'll not sell my fiddle,

For ne'er a wife in town."

CCCCLVI.

Up hill and down dale;

Butter is made in every vale,

And if that Nancy Cook

Is a good girl,

She shall have a spouse,

And make butter anon,

Before her old grandmother

Grows a young man.

CCCCLVII.

Jack in the pulpit, out and in;

Sold his wife for a minikin pin.

CCCCLVIII.

Did you see my wife, did you see, did you see,

Did you see my wife looking for me?

She wears a straw bonnet, with white ribbands on it,

And dimity petticoats over her knee.

CCCCLIX.

Rosemary green,

And lavender blue,

Thyme and sweet marjoram,

Hyssop and rue.

CCCCLX.

"Little maid, pretty maid, whither goest thou?"

"Down in the forest to milk my cow."

"Shall I go with thee?" "No, not now;

When I send for thee, then come thou."

CCCCLXI.

I am a pretty wench,

And I come a great way hence,

And sweethearts I can get none:

But every dirty sow,

Can get sweethearts enow,

And I, pretty wench, can get never a one.

CCCCLXII.

Birds of a feather flock together,

And so will pigs and swine;

Rats and mice will have their choice,

And so will I have mine.

CCCCLXIII.

[The practice of sowing hempseed on Allhallows Even is often alluded to by earlier writers, and Gay, in his 'Pastorals,' quotes part of the following lines as used on that occasion.]

Hemp-seed I set,

Hemp-seed I sow,

The young man that I love,

Come after me and mow!

CCCCLXIV.

Jack Sprat could eat no fat,

His wife could eat no lean;

And so, betwixt them both, you see,

They lick'd the platter clean.

CCCCLXV.

Little Jack Dandy-prat was my first suitor;

He had a dish and a spoon, and he'd some pewter;

He'd linen and woollen, and woollen and linen,

A little pig in a string cost him five shilling.

CCCCLXVI.

THE KEYS OF CANTERBURY.

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of Canterbury,

To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry,

If you will but walk abroad with me,

If you will but walk with me.

Sir, I'll not accept of the keys of Canterbury,

To set all the bells ringing when we shall be merry;

Neither will I walk abroad with thee,

Neither will I talk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you a fine carved comb,

To comb out your ringlets when I am from home,

If you will but walk with me, &c.

Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Oh, madam, I will give you a pair of shoes of cork,*

One made in London, the other made in York,

If you will but walk with me, &c.

Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Madam, I will give you a sweet silver bell,

To ring up your maidens when you are not well,

If you will but walk with me, &c.

Sir, I'll not accept, &c.

Oh, my man John, what can the matter be?

I love the lady and the lady loves not me!

Neither will she walk abroad with me,

Neither will she talk with me.

Oh, master dear, do not despair,

The lady she shall be, shall be your only dear,

And she will walk and talk with thee,

And she will walk with thee!

Oh, madam, I will give you the keys of my chest,

To count my gold and silver when I am gone to rest,

If you will but walk abroad with me,

If you will but talk with me.

Oh, sir, I will accept of the keys of your chest,

To count your gold and silver when you are gone to rest,

And I will walk abroad with thee,

And I will talk with thee!

* This proves the song was not later than the era of chopines, or high cork shoes.

Another proof of antiquity. It must probably have been written before the invention of bell-pulls.

CCCCLXVII.

He. If you with me will go, my love,

You shall see a pretty show, my love,

Let dame say what she will:

If you will have me, my love,

I will have thee, my love,

So let the milk-pail stand still.

She. Since you have said so, my love,

Longer I will go, my love,

Let dame say what she will:

If you will have me, my love,

I will have thee, my love,

So let the milk-pail stand still.

CCCCLXVIII.

On Saturday night,

Shall be all my care

To powder my locks

And curl my hair.

On Sunday morning

My love will come in,

When he will marry me

With a gold ring.

CCCCLXIX.

Master I have, and I am his man,

Gallop a dreary dun;

Master I have, and I am his man,

And I'll get a wife as fast as I can;

With a heighly gaily gamberally,

Higgledy piggledy, niggledy, niggledy,

Gallop a dreary dun.

CCCCLXX.

I doubt, I doubt my fire is out,

My little wife isn't at home;

I'll saddle my dog, and I'll bridle my cat,

And I'll go fetch my little wife home.

CCCCLXXI.

Young Roger came tapping at Dolly's window,

Thumpaty, thumpaty, thump!

He asked for admittance, she answered him "No!"

Frumpaty, frumpaty, frump!

"No, no, Roger, no! as you came you may go!"

Stumpaty, stumpaty, stump!

CCCCLXXII.

Thomas and Annis met in the dark.

"Good morning," said Thomas.

"Good morning," said Annis.

And so they began to talk.

"I'll give you," says Thomas,

"Give me," said Annis;

"I prithee, love, tell me what?"

"Some nuts," said Thomas.

"Some nuts," said Annis;

"Nuts are good to crack."

"I love you," said Thomas.

"Love me!" said Annis;

"I prithee love tell me where?"

"In my heart," said Thomas.

"In your heart!" said Annis;

"How came you to love me there?"

"I'll marry you," said Thomas.

"Marry me!" said Annis;

"I prithee, love, tell me when?"

"Next Sunday," said Thomas.

"Next Sunday," said Annis;

"I wish next Sunday were come."

CCCCLXXIII.

Saw ye aught of my love a coming from ye market!

A peck of meal upon her back,

A babby in her basket;

Saw ye aught of my love a coming from the market?

CCCCLXXIV.

[This nursery song may probably commemorate a part of Tom Thumb's history, extant in a Little Danish work, treating of 'Swain Tomling, a man no bigger than a thumb, who would be married to a woman three ells and three quarters long.' See Mr. Thoms' Preface to 'Tom & Lincoln,' p. xi.]

I had a little husband,

No bigger than my thumb;

I put him in a pint pot,

And there I bid him drum.

I bought a little horse,

That galloped up and down;

I bridled him, and saddled him,

And sent him out of town.

I gave him some garters,

To garter up his hose,

And a little handkerchief,

To wipe his pretty nose.

CCCCLXXV.

Can you make me a cambric shirt,

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;

Without any seam or needlework?

And you shall be a true lover of mine.

Can you wash it in yonder well,

Parsley, &c.

Where never sprung water, nor rain ever fell?

And you, &c.

Can you dry it on yonder thorn,

Parsley, &c.

Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?

And you, &c.

Now you have ask'd me questions three,

Parsley, &c.

I hope you'll answer as many for me,

And you, &c.

Can you find me an acre of land,

Parsley, &c.

Between the salt water and the sea sand?

And you, &c.

Can you plough it with a ram's horn,

Parsley, &c.

And sow it all over with one pepper-corn?

And you, &c.

Can you reap it with a sickle of leather,

Parsley, &c.

And bind it up with a peacock's feather?

And you, &c.

When you have done and finish'd your work,

Parsley, &c.

Then come to me for your cambric shirt,

And you, &c.

CCCCLXXVI.

Where have you been to-day, Billy, my son?

Where have you been to-day, my only man!

I've been a-wooing, mother; make my bed soon,

For I'm sick at heart, and fain would lay down.

What have you ate to-day, Billy, my son?

What have you ate to-day, my only man?

I've ate an eel-pie, mother; make my bed soon,

For I'm sick at heart, and shall die before noon!

CCCCLXXVII.

I married my wife by the light of the moon,

A tidy housewife, a tidy one;

She never gets up until it is noon,

And I hope she'll prove a tidy one.

And when she gets up, she is slovenly laced,

A tidy, &c.

She takes up the poker to roll out the paste,

And I hope, &c.

She churns her butter in a boot,

A tidy, &c.

And instead of a churnstaff she puts in her foot,

And I hope, &c.

She lays her cheese on the scullery shelf,

A tidy, &c.

And she never turns it till it turns itself.

And I hope, &c.

CCCCLXXVIII.

There was a little maid, and she was afraid,

That her sweetheart would come unto her;

So she went to bed, and cover'd up her head

And fasten'd the door with a skewer.

CCCCLXXIX.

"Madam, I am come to court you,

If your favour I can gain."

"Ah, Ah!" said she, "you are a bold fellow,

If I e'er see your face again!"

"Madam, I have rings and diamonds,

Madam, I have houses and land,

Madam, I have a world of treasure,

All shall be at your command."

"I care not for rings and diamonds,

I care not for houses and lands,

I care not for a world of treasure,

So that I have but a handsome man."

"Madam, you think much of beauty,

Beauty hasteneth to decay,

For the fairest of flowers that grow in summer

Will decay and fade away."

CCCCLXXX.

Up street, and down street,

Each window's made of glass;

If you go to Tommy Tickler's house,

You'll find a pretty lass.

CCCCLXXXI.

Oh! mother, I shall be married to Mr. Punchinello.

To Mr. Punch,

To Mr. Joe,

To Mr. Nell,

To Mr. Lo.

Mr. Punch, Mr. Joe,

Mr. Nell, Mr. Lo,

To Mr. Punchinello.

CCCCLXXXII.

Little John Jiggy Jag,

He rode a penny nag,

And went to Wigan to woo;

When he came to a beck,

He fell and broke his neck,—

Johnny, how dost thou now?

I made him a hat,

Of my coat-lap,

And stockings of pearly blue.

A hat and a feather,

To keep out cold weather;

So, Johnny, how dost thou now?

CCCCLXXXIII.

[Cumberland courtship.]

Bonny lass, canny lass, willta be mine?

Thou'se neither wesh dishes, nor sarrah (serve) the swine,

Thou sall sit on a cushion, and sew up a seam,

And thou sall eat strawberries, sugar, and cream!

CCCCLXXXIV.

Bessy Bell and Mary Gray,*

They were two bonny lasses:

They built their house upon the lea,

And covered it with rashes.

Bessy kept the garden gate,

And Mary kept the pantry:

Bessy always had to wait,

While Mary lived in plenty.

* The common tradition respecting these celebrated beauties is as follows:—"In the year 1666, when the plague raged at Perth, these ladies retired into solitude, to avoid infection; built on a small streamlet, tributary to the Almond, in a sequestered corner called Burn-brae, a bower, and lived in it together, till a young man, whom they both tenderly loved, in his visits communicated to them the fatal contagion, of which they soon after died."]

CCCCLXXXV.

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.

CCCCLXXXVI.

Little Tom Dandy

Was my first suitor,

He had a spoon and dish,

And a little pewter.

CCCCLXXXVII.

There was a little pretty lad,

And he lived by himself,

And all the meat he got

He put upon a shelf.

The rats and the mice

Did lead him such a life,

That he went to Ireland

To get himself a wife.

The lanes they were so broad,

And the fields they were so narrow,

He couldn't get his wife home

Without a wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow broke,

My wife she got a kick,

The deuce take the wheelbarrow,

That spared my wife's neck.

CCCCLXXXVIII.

Rowley Powley, pudding and pie,

Kissed the girls and made them cry;

When the girls begin to cry,

Rowley Powley runs away.

CCCCLXXXIX.

Margaret wrote a letter,

Seal'd it with her finger,

Threw it in the dam

For the dusty miller.

Dusty was his coat,

Dusty was the siller,

Dusty was the kiss

I'd from the dusty miller.

If I had my pockets

Full of gold and siller,

I would give it all

To my dusty miller.

Chorus. O the little, little,

Rusty, dusty, miller.

CCCCXC.

Love your own, kiss your own.

Love your own mother, hinny,

For if she was dead and gone,

You'd ne'er get such another, hinny.

CCCCXCI.

Here comes a lusty wooer,

My a dildin, my a daldin;

Here comes a lusty wooer,

Lily bright and shine a'.

Pray, who do you woo,

My a dildin, my a daldin?

Pray, who do you woo,

Lily bright and shine a'?

For your fairest daughter,

My a dildin, my a daldin;

For your fairest daughter,

Lily bright and shine a'.

Then there she is for you,

My a dildin, my a daldin;

Then there she is for you,

Lily bright and shine a'.

CCCCXCII.

O rare Harry Parry,

When will you marry?

When apples and pears are ripe.

I'll come to your wedding,

Without any bidding,

And dance and sing all the night.

CCCCXCIII.

Blue eye beauty,

Grey eye greedy,

Black eye blackie,

Brown eye brownie.

CCCCXCIV.

Curly locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine?

Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine;

But sit on a cushion and sow a fine seam,

And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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