[ p.219 ]  (enlargement)

N O T E S.

      Page 4, line 1. When good King Arthur. Mr. Chappell assures me that the following is the correct version of this song ;

" King Stephen was a worthy king,
    As ancient bards do sing ;
He bought three pecks of barley-meal,
    To make a bag-pudding.

A bag-pudding the queen she made,
    And stuff'd it full of plums :
And in it put great lumps of fat,
    As big as my two thumbs.

The king and queen sit down to dine,
    And all the court beside ;
And what they could not eat that night,
    The queen next morning fried."


      P.6, l. 1. The house that Jack built. The Hebrew tale which I have given, may possibly be the original of all accumulative stories of the same kind. The tale of the old woman and the crooked sixpence is one of this class, and I here insert two versions of it :

       " AN old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence, What, said she, shall I do with this little / p.220 / sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig. As she was coming home, she came to a stile [lit.] : but piggy would not go over the style.
      " She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to the dog, Dog ! bite pig ; piggy won't go over the style ; and I shan't get home to night. But the dog would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said, Stick ! stick ! beat dog ; dog won't bite pig ; piggy won't get over the stile ; and I shan't get home to night. But the stick would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said, Fire ! fire ! burn stick ; stick won't beat dog ; dog won't bite pig, (and so forth, always repeating the foregoing words.) But the fire would not.
      " She went a little further ; and she met some water. So she said, Water ! water ! quench fire ; fire won't burn stick. But the water would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said, Ox ! ox ! drink water ; water won't quench fire, &c. But the ox would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met a butcher. So she said, Butcher ! butcher ! kill ox ; ox won't drink water, &c. But the butcher would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said, Rope ! rope ! hang butcher ; butcher won't kill ox, &c. But the rope would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said, Rat ! rat ! gnaw rope ; rope won't hang butcher, &c. But the rat would not.
      " She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said, Cat ! cat ! kill rat ; rat won't gnaw rope, &c. But the cat said to her, if you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a saucer of milk, I will kill the rat. So away went the old woman to the cow.
      But the cow said to her, 'If you will go to yonder haystack,*

* Or haymakers, proceeding thus in the stead of the rest of this paragraph:— " and fetch me a wisp of hay, I'll give you the milk. So away the old woman went, but the haymakers said to her, If you will go to yonder / p.221 / stream, and fetch us a bucket of water, we'll give you the hay. So away the old woman went, but when she got to the stream, she found the bucket was full of holes. So she covered the bottom with pebbles, and then filled the bucket with water, and away she went back with it to the haymakers ; and they gave her a wisp of hay."


/ p.221 /
and fetch me a handful of hay ; I'll give you the milk. So away went the old woman to the haystack ; and she brought the hay to the cow.
      " As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk ; and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat.
      " As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the cat began to kill the rat ; the rat began to gnaw the rope ; the rope began to hang the butcher ; the butcher began to kill the ox ; the ox began to drink the water ; the water began to quench the fire ; the fire began to burn the stick ; the stick began to beat the dog ; the dog began to bite the pig ; the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile ; and so the old woman got home that night."

      " THERE was an old woman, that lived in a house : and, sweeping under her bed, she found a silver penny. So she went to market and bought a pig : but as she came home, the pig would not go over the stile.
      " She went a little further, and she met a dog ; and she said to the dog, Good dog ! bite pig : pig won't go ; and it's time that I was at home an hour and a half ago. But the dog would not. (And so forth, as in the other story, mutatis mutandis, to the Rat.)
      " She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said to the cat. Good cat ! kill rat ; rat won't bite rope ; rope won't hang butcher ; butcher won't kill ox ; ox won't drink water ; water won't quench fire ; fire won't burn stick ; stick won't beat pig ; pig won't go. And it's time that I was at home an hour and a half ago.
      " The cat began to kill the rat ; the rat began (and so forth, as in the other story;) the pig began to go. And so the old woman got home at last."


/ p.222 /

      It will be observed that these two versions, for which I am indebted to Mr. Black, are much more like the Hebrew tale than The House that Jack built; but as our collection would scarcely be complete without this latter, I shall insert a copy of it :

1.   THIS is the house that Jack built.

2.   This is the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

3.   This is the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

4.   This is the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

5.   This is the dog,
That worried the cat
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

6.   This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That kill'd the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

7.   This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
/ p.223 /
   That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.

8.   This is the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd 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.

9.   This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd 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.

10.  This is the cock that crow'd in the morn,
That wak'd the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd 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.

11.  This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crow'd in the morn,
/ p.224 /
       That wak'd the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tatter'd and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milk'd 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.

      P. 13, l. 1. The rose is red. The tune to this may be found in the "English Dancing Master," 1650.

      P. 19, l. 6. To gern. That is, to cry as a child.

      P. 22, l. 8. Deuce take the. Sometimes, "down came."

      P. 24, l. 9. There was a little man. Sung to the same tune as No. 64. The following version is taken from a broadside printed at Strawberry Hill in the last century:

" There was a little man, and he woo'd a little maid,
    And he said, my little maid, will you wed ?
I have little more to say, than will you yea or nay ?
    For little said is soon mended.

" Then this little maid she said, Little sir, you've little said,
    To induce a little maid for to wed ;
You must say a little more, and must add a little dower,
    E'er I make a little print in your bed.

" Then this little man reply'd, if you'll be my little bride,
    I'll raise my love note a little higher;
Tho' I little love to prate, yet you'll find my heart is great,
    With the little God of Love all on fire.

/ p.225 /
" Then the little maid she said, your fire may warm the bed,
    But what shall we do for to eat ?
Will the flames you're only rich in, make a fire in the kitchen,
    And the Little God of Love turn the spit ?

" Then this little man he sigh'd, and some say a little cry'd,
    And his little heart was big all with sorrow;
I'll be your little slave, and if the little that I have
    Be too little, little dear, I will borrow.

" Then this little man so shent, made the little maid relent,
    And set her little soul a-thinking ;
Tho' his little was but small, yet she had his little all,
    And could have of a cat but her skin."

      P. 25, l. 1. I had a little moppet. This is a game.

      P. 27, l. 8. Three children sliding on the ice. Sung to the tune of the Babes in the Wood.

      P. 28, l. 3. Some Christian people. Music in D'Urfey's "Pills to purge Melancholy." Alluded to in Gay's Trivia. Wrongly printed, "Come, Christian people."

      P. 33, l. 11. There was an old woman. The first two lines are the same with those of a song in D'Urfey's "Pills to purge Melancholy."

      P. 34, l. 3. Kyloe. The diminutive of kye, a small breed of cattle so called in the North of England.

      P. 39, l. 5. Little blue Betty lived in a den. The following is another version of this:

"Little Brown Betty liv'd under a pan,
She brew'd good ale for a gentleman :
A gentleman came every day,
So little Brown Betty hopp'd away."


/ p.226 /

      P. 37, l. 9. Faustus. Perhaps Foster.

      P. 43, l. 13. There was an old man. A similar story is related in a MS. of the fifteenth century in the Chetham Library at Manchester, which I here insert :

Jhesu that arte jentylle, ffor joye off thy dame,
As thu wrought thys wyde worlde, in hevyn is thi home,
Save alle thys compeny and sheld them from schame,
That wylle lystyn to me and tende to thys game.

God kepe alle women that to thys towne longe,
Maydens, wedows, and wyvys amonge ;
For moche the ar blamyd and sometyme with wronge,
I take wyttenes of alle ffolke that herythe thys song.

Lystyn, good serrys, bothe yong and olde,
By a good howsbande thys tale shalbe tolde ;
He weddyd a womane that was ffayre and bolde,
And hade good i-now to wende as they wolde.

She was a good huswyfe, curteys and heynd,
And he was an angry man, and sone wold be tenyd,
Chydyng and brawlynge, and farde leyke a feynd,
As they that oftyn wylbe wrothe with ther best frend.

Tylle itt befelle uppon a day, shortt talle to make,
The goodman wold to the plow, his horse gan he take ;
He calyd forthe hys oxsyn, the whyt and the blake,
And he seyd, "dame, dyght our denner betyme, for Godes sake."

The goodman an hys lade to the plow be gone,
The goodwyf hade meche to doo, and servant had se none,
Many smale chyldern to kepe besyd hyrselfe alone,
She dyde mor then sho myght withyn her owne wone.

Home com the goodman be tyme off the day,
To loke that al thing wer acordyng to hes pay,
" Dame," he sed, "is owr dyner dyght ?" "Syr," sche sayd, "naye ;
How wold you have me doo mor then I may ?"

/ p.227 /
Than he began to chide and seyd, "Evelle mott thou the !
I wolde thou shuldes alle day go to plowe with me,
To walke in the clottes that be wette and meré,
Than sholdes thou wytt what it were a plowman to bee."

Than sware the goodwyff, and thus gane she say,
" I have mor to doo then I doo may ;
And ye shuld folowe me ffoly on day,
Ye wold be wery off your part, my hede dar I lay."

" Wery ! yn the devylles nam !" seyd the goodman,
" What hast thou to doo, but syttes her at hame ?
Thou goyst to thi neybores howse, be on and be one,
And syttes ther janglynge with Jake an with John."

Than sayd the goodwyffe, " feyr mot yow ffaylle !
I have mor to do, who so wyst alle ;
Whyn I lye in my bede, my slepe is butt smalle,
Yett eyrly in the morneng ye wylle me up calle.

" Whan I lye al nyght wakyng with our cheylde,
I ryse up at morow and fynde owr howse wylde ;
Then I melk owre kene and torne them on the felde,
Whylle yow slepe ffulle stylle, also Cryst me schelde !

" Than make I buter ferther on the day ;
After make I chese,—thes holde yow a play ;
Then wylle owre cheldren wepe and upemost they,
Yett wylle yow blame me for owr good, and any be awey.

" Whan I have so done, yet ther comys more eene,
I geve our chekyns met, or elles they wylb[e] leyne :
Our hennes, our capons, and owr dokkes be-dene,
Yet tend I to owr goslyngs that gothe on the grene.

" I bake, I brew, yt wylle not elles be welle ;
I bete and swyngylle flex, as ever have I heylle :
I hekylle the towe, I kave and I keylle,
I toose owlle and card het and spyn het on the wheylle."

/ p.228 /
" Dame," sed the goodman, " the develle have thy bones !
Thou nedyst not bake nor brew in fortnyght past onys;
I sey no good that thou dost within thes wyd wonys,
But ever thow excusyst the with grontes and gronys."

" Yefe a pece off lenyn and wolen I make onys a yere,
For to clothe owre self and owr cheldren in fere ;
Elles we shold go to the market, and by het ful deer,
I ame as bessy as I may in every [yere.]

" Whan I have so donne, I loke on the sonne,
I ordene met for owr bestes agen that yow come home,
And met ffor owr selfe agen het be none,
Yet I have not a ffeyr word whan I have done.

" Soo I loke to owr good withowt and withyn,
That ther be none awey noder more nor myn,
Glade to ples yow to pay, lest any bate begyn,
And fort to chid thus with me, i-feyght yow be in synne."

Then sed the goodman in a sory tyme,
" Alle thys wold a good howsewyf do long ar het were prime ;
And sene the good that we have is halfe dele thyn,
Thow shalt laber for thy part as I doo for myne."

" Therffor, dame, make the redy, I warne the, anone,
To morow with my lade to the plowe thou shalt gone ;
And I wylbe howsewyfe and kype owr howse at home,
And take myn ese as thou hast done, by God and Seint John !"

" I graunt," quod the goodywfe, "as I wnderstonde,
To morowe in the mornyng I wylbe walkande :
Yet wylle I ryse whylle ye be slepande,
And see that alle theng be redy led to your hand."

Soo it past alle to the morow that het was dayleyght ;
The goodwyffe thoght on her ded and upe she rose ryght :
" Dame," seid the goodmane, "I swere be Godes myght !
I wylle fette hom owr bestes, and helpe that the wer deght."

/ p.229 /
The goodman to the feeld hyed hym fulle yarne ;
The godwyfe made butter, her dedes war fulle derne,
She toke ayen the butter-melke and put het in the cheyrne,
And seid yet off on pynt owr syer shalbe to lerne.

Home come the goodman and toke good kype,
How the wyfe had layd her flesche for to stepe :
She sayd, "Sir, al thes day ye ned not to slepe,
Kype wylle owr chelderne and let them not wepe.

" Yff yow goo to the kelme malt for to make,
Put smal feyr ondernethe, sir, for Godes sake ;
The kelme is lowe and dry, good tend that ye take,
For and het fastyn on a feyr it wylb[e] eville to blake.

" Her sitt ij. gese abrode, kype them wylle from woo,
And thei may com to good, that wylle wesk sorow i-now."
"Dame," seid the goodmane, "hy the to the plowe,
Teche me no more howsewyfre, for I can i-nowe."

Forthe went the goodwyff, curtes and hende,
Sche callyd to her lade, and to the plowe they wend ;
They wer besé al day, a fytte here I fynde,
And I had dronke ones, ye shalle heyre the best behynd.


      P. 48, l. 1. Lucy Locket. Lucy Locket and Kitty Fisher were two celebrated courtezans of the time of Charles II. It was to the tune of this nursery rhyme that the song of "Yankee Doodle" was written.

      P. 49, l. 6. Bessy Bell and Mary Gray. These two stanzas are founded on the well-known Scotch story.

      P. 51, l. 9. The first line is sometimes as follows:

"Robin a Bobbin, a Bilberry hen."


/ p.230 /

      P. 52, l. 7. The merriment of Jack Horner has, I believe, long since departed from the modern series, and I therefore give the following copy of it from Douce's collection : "The History of Jack Horner, containing the witty pranks he play'd, from his youth to his riper years, being pleasant for Winter Evenings."

I.

Of his birth and education.

JACK HORNER was a pretty lad,
   near London he did dwell,
His father's heart he made full glad,
   his mother loved him well.

She often sat him on her lap,
   to turn him dry beneath,
And fed him with sweet sugar-pap,
   because he had no teeth.

While little Jack was sweet and young,
   if he by chance should cry,
His mother pretty sonnets sung,
   with lulla-baby-by.

A pretty boy, a curious wit,
   all people spoke his praise,
And in the corner he would sit,
   on Christmas holidays.

And said, Jack Horner in the corner,
   eats good Christmas pye ;
With his thumbs pulls out the plumbs,
   crying what a good boy was I.

/ p.231 /
These pretty verses which he made
   upon his Christmas cheer,
Did gain him love, as it is said,
   of all both far and near ;

For lasses lov'd his company,
   each day above another ;
For why? they knew that he would be
   a man before his mother.

He grew, I say, at any rate
   both proper, straight, and trim,
So that young Nancy, Sue, and Kate,
   were all in love with him.

Happy was she that could enjoy
   from him one kind embrace ;
Though once he was a little boy,
   yet now he grows apace.

So few were like him far and near,
   and match for him was none ;
As being thirteen inches high,
   a giant to Tom Thumb.

Whene'er he took a sword in hand,
   he made his foes to bleed,
As you shall come to understand,
   when you this story read.

II.

Jack frights a tailor for cabbaging cloth out of his coat.

JACK being twenty years of age,
   liv'd with a worthy knight.
In manner of a pretty page,
   to yield him much delight :

/ p.232 /
The knight right generous and free,
   did for a taylor send,
For to make Jack a livery,
   so much he was his friend,

Of half a yard of good broad cloth
   the coat was to be made,
But yet the taylor he was loth
   to quit his thievish trade.

The knavish taylor was to blame,
   (a crafty cunning wag,)
Be pinch'd as much out of the same
   as made a marble bag.

His coat was spoil'd then being made,
   it came not to his knee :
Jack in a raging passion said,
   I'll be revenged on thee.

The knight he having kill'd a goat,
   whose skin was full as black
I do declare as any soot ;
   this project pleased Jack.

He wrapt it round him like a gown
   at twelve o'clock at night,
And then he rambled thro' the town,
   this taylor to affright.

He through a window did advance,
   near to the taylor's bed ;
And round the room did skip and dance
   with horns upon his head.

He growl'd and grumbled like a bear,
   and did such anticks play ;
As made the taylor then to stare,
   and tremble where he lay.

/ p.233 /
Seeing the horns hang o'er his head,
   his body short and thick,
The taylor said, speak who art thou ?
   quoth Jack, thy friend old Nick:

Thou hast obey'd my order well
   I find in each degree :
And therefore in my gloomy cell,
   I have a place for thee.

For you have been a friend indeed,
   I such a taylor lack :
Therefore come away with speed,
   I'll bear thee on my back :

Sweet Mr. Devil then he cry'd,
   O pardon me I pray ;—
I can't, I won't, he then reply'd,
   make haste and come away.

The taylor naked to the skin,
   his bed he did refrain,
And down the town thro' thick and thin,
   he ran with might and main.

III.

How he served the cook-maid, who broke his head with a ladle,
for making a sop in the dripping-pan

ANOTHER pleasant prank he play'd,
   upon a holiday,
Unto his master's servant maid,
   which was a bloody fray.

Now she was lusty Jane by name,
   and was their constant cook:
And when he to the kitchen came,
   she would him overlook.

/ p.234 /
Upon a certain day young Jack,
   a slice of bread did take,
And threw it in the dripping-pan,
   that he a sop might make.

So soon as she the same did see,
   it put her in a rage,
And with the basting ladle she
   Jack Horner did engage.

She gave him cracks upon the crown,
   so hard and struck so fast,
That he at length did tumble down,
   and gasping at the last.

But though he did at first retreat,
   he soon returned again ;
For standing fast upon his feet,
   he fought with might and main.

He was but thirteen inches high,
   and she full six times more,
Yet, by his ingenuity,
   he brought her to the floor.

So cruel hard he made her roar,
   she cry'd, Let me alone,
And I will ne'er offend thee more,
   Jack, while my name is Joan.

Why, then, said Jack if it be so,
   that you'll not me offend,
I will this minute let you go,
   and so the fray did end.

/ p.235 /

IV.

An old hermit give Jack an invisible coat and a pair of enchanted
pipes, with which he plays many tricks.

UPON a pleasant holiday,
   Jack, going to a fair,
And as he pass'd along the way,
   he saw a wonder there ;

An aged man sat in a cave,
   that could not stand nor go,
His head wore blossoms of the grave,
   And look'd as white as snow ;

He call'd to Jack, and this did say,
   come hither lad to me,
And if thou dost my will obey,
   rewarded thou shalt be ;

Bring me a fairing from the town,
   at thy own proper cost,
A jug of nappy liquor brown,
   thy labour shan't be lost.

Jack made the hermit this reply,
   who then sat in the cell,
What's your request I'll not deny,
   and so old dad farewell.

At night he being stout and strong
   this lad he did not fail,
But at his back lugged along
   a swinging jug of ale:

Which when the hermit he beheld,
   it pleas'd him to the heart,
Out of the same a cup he fill'd,
   and said before we part,

/ p.236 /
I have a pipe which I'll bestow
   upon you,—never doubt,
Whoever hears the same you blow,
   shall dance and skip about ;

I have a coat for thee likewise,
   invisible I mean ;
And it shall so bedim their eyes,
   that thou shalt not be seen :

If thou should with an hundred meet
   when thus you pass along,
Although upon the open street,
   not one of all the throng

Shall ever see you in the least,
   but hear the music sound ;
And wonder that both man and beast
   is forc'd to dance around.

Jack took the coat and bag-pipes too,
   and thankfully did say,
Old Father I will call on you,
   whene'er I come this way.

V.

Of his making six fiddlers dance over hedge and ditch, till they
broke all their glasses and crowds.


THIS coat and pipe he having got,
   he homewards trudg'd with speed ;
At length it was his happy lot
   to cross a pleasant mead ;

Where he six fiddlers soon espy'd
   returning from the fair ;
Under their coats crowds by their sides,
   with many others there.


/ p.237 /

Jack presently his coat put on,
   that screen'd him from their sight,
Saying I'll do the best I can
   to plague them all this night ;

His pipes he straight began to play,
   the crowders they did dance ;
The tradesmen too, as fast as they,
   did caper, skip and prance.

Still he play'd up a merry strain
   on his pipes loud and shrill,
So they danc'd the jump'd amain,
   tho's sore against their will.

Said they this is enchanted ground,
   for though no soul we see,
Yet still the music's pleasant sound,
   makes us dance veh'mently.

Jack Horner danc'd and piping went,
   straight down into the hollow,
So all these dancers by consent,
   they after him did follow.

He led them on thro' bogs and sloughs,
   nay, likewise ponds and ditches,
And in the thorny briary boughs,
   poor rogues, they tore their breeches !

At last it being somewhat late,
   Jack did his piping leave,
So ceas'd, seeing their wretched state
   which made them sigh and grieve.

Sure this same is old Nick, I know,
   the author of this evil :
And others cry'd if it be so,
   he is a merry devil.

/ p.238 /

Jack Horner laugh'd and went away,
   and left them in despair :
So ever since that very day,
   no crowders would come there.

VI.

Jack's kindness to the inn keeper, who he puts in a way
to pay his debts.


AN honest man, an innkeeper
   a friend to honest Jack,
Who was in debt alas ! so far
   that he was like to crack ;

Now this man had a handsome wife,
   sweet, fair, and beauteous too,—
A Quaker lov'd her as his life,
   And this Jack Horner knew.

The Quaker was an esquire born,
   and did in wealth abound :
Said he, I'll catch him in the corn,
   and put him in the pond.

First to the innkeeper I'll go,
   and when I do him find,
he soon shall understand and know
   that I'll be true and kind.

He met him in a narrow lane,
   and said, my friend, good morrow.
But the innkeeper reply'd again,
   my heart is full of sorrow ;

Two hundred pounds I am in debt,
   which I must pay next week ;
It makes me sigh, lament, and fret,
   having the coin to seek.

/ p.239 /

Quoth Jack, if you'll be rul'd by me
   I'll put you in a way,
How you yourself from debts may free
   and all the money pay.

Nay, this is joyful news he cry'd,
   thou art a friend indeed,
Thy wit shall be my rule and guide
   for never more was need.

Go tell thy loving wife said he,
   thy joy and hearts' delight,
That thou must ride miles forty-three
   and shan't come home to night.

Then mind the counsel I shall give,
   and be no whit afraid ;
For I can tell you as I live
   your debts will soon be paid.

Mount thy bay nag, and take thy cloak,
   likewise thy morning gown ;
And lodge within a hollow oak
   a mile or two from town.

Then you may sleep in sweet content
   all night and take your rest,
And leave it to my management,
   then Sir, a pleasant jest—

Next morning there you shall behold
   the like ne'er seen before ;
Which shall produce a sum of gold,
   nay, likewise silver store.

Unto his house straightway he went,
   and told her he must go
A journey, saying be content,
   for why, it must be so.

/ p.240 /

She seemingly began to weep,
   and with sad sighs reply'd—
You know, alas ! I cannot sleep
   without you by my side.

Cries he, kind wife, do not repine,
   why should you sigh and grieve ?
I go out to a friend of mine
   some money to receive.

This said, with woman fond deceit,
   she straightway ceas'd to mourn,
And gave him twenty kisses sweet,
   wishing his safe return.

So soon as he was out of sight,
   she for the Quaker sent,
And ordered him to come at night,
   that to their heart's content

They may be merry, sport, and play,
   as her husband was from home.
The Quaker said, by yea and nay,
   I will not fail to come.

Now just about the close of day
   they did to supper fall ;
Now Jack was there as well as they,
   and walk'd about the hall,

And did her fond behaviour note,
   she on her friend did lean,
Jack having his enchanting coat
   was not for to be seen.

Who perfectly did hear and see
   when they did toy and play ;
Thought he, I'll be reveng'd on ye,
   before the morning day.

*     *     *     *     *

/ p.241 /

VII.

Jack slays a monstrous giant, and marries a knight's daughter.

JACK HORNER a fierce giant kill'd,
   one Galligantus stout,
As large as ever man beheld
   in all the world throughout.

This very giant could with ease,
   step fifteen yards in length :
Up by the root he pluck'd oak trees,
   so mighty was his strength.

His lips did open like two gates,
   his beard hung down like wire,
His eyes were like two pewter plates,
   he breathed smoke and fire.

'Tis said that he destroy'd as much
   as ten score men could eat ;
So that the people did him grudge
   every bit of meat.

His mess was still continually
   two bullocks in a dish ;
Then he would drink whole rivers dry,
   and thus he starv'd the fish :

He went to drink it seems one day
   by a deep river side,
Whereat a lighter fall of straw
   did then at anchor ride ;

Besides another full of hay ;
   a third with block and billet ;
He cramm'd all these into his maw,
   and yet they did not fill it.

/ p.242 /
He did annoy the nations then,
   by night and eke by day ;
Whoever passed by his den,
   became his fatal pray.

Hard by there liv'd a noble knight,
   who had one daughter dear ;
For youth and splendid beauty bright
   but few could her come near.

He preferr'd her to be the wife,
   of him that would destroy,
The brutish cruel giant's life,
   who did them so annoy.

At length Jack Horner being told,
   whoever did him slay,
Might have gold and silver eke,
   likewise a lady gay ;

Quoth Jack, now let me live or die,
   I'll fight this swinging boar ;
Though I'm but thirteen inches high,
   and he ten yards and more.

A sword he got five inches long,
   a little cap of steel ;
A breast-plate too both stout and strong,
   quoth Jack, I'll make him reel.

Upon a badger's back he got,
   in order to proceed ;
Thus being mounted cap-a-pie,
   away he rode full speed.

With double courage stout and bralle [lit. 'brave'],
   he did his valour keep :
Then coming to the giant's cave,
   he found him fast asleep.

/ p.243 /

His mouth it was not open wide,
   but stood it seems half-cock,
Jack down his throat with speed did ride,
   he never stood to knock.

Jack cut and slash'd his swinging tripes,
   this griev'd the giant sore ;
Then did he play upon his pipes,
   which made him dance and roar.

He cry'd, I dance, yet I'm not well,
   there's no man minds my moan :
At length he died and down he fell,
   Then gave a hideous groan.

With that he soon with speed did run,
   and did in brief declare,
What by his valour he had done,
   and gain'd the lady fair.

He marry'd this fair beauty bright,
   her charms he did admire :
And since her father was a knight,
   young Jack became a 'squire.

      P. 52, l. 21. And sent him out of town. A couplet is wanting after this line.

      P. 54, l. 17. Taffy was a Welshman. Sung on the 1st of March on the Welsh borders, and other parts of England.

      P. 58, l. 5. Three blind mice. The following version is from "Deuteromelia, or the second part of Musicks Melodie, 1609," where the music is also given:

"Three blinde mice, three blind mice,
Dame Julian, the miller, and his merry old wife,
She scrapte her tripe, take thou the knife."

/ p.244 /

      P. 77, l. 9. She took a clean dish. Sometimes thus:

"She went to the triper's."

      P. 81, l. 1. There was a lady all skin and bone. The following version was obtained from Yorkshire, where it is used in a nursery game :

" There was an old woman she went to church to pray ;
And when she got to the churchyard stile,
She sat her down to think a little while ;
And when she got to the churchyard door,
She sat her down, to think a little more ;
And when she got the church within,
She knelt her down to pray for sin ;
She look'd above, she look'd below,
She saw a dead man lying low ;
The worms crept in, and the worms crept out ;
She ask'd the parson, 'may I go out ?'
Yes, you may," &c.

      P. 87, l. 7. There was a frog lived in a well. The tune to this is given in a scarce work, called "The Merry Musician, or a Cure for the Spleen," 12mo., and also in "An Antidote to Melancholy," 1719. The well-known song, "A frog he would a wooing go," appears to have been borrowed from this. See Dauney's "Ancient Scottish Melodies," p.53.

      P. 89, l. 20. There was an old woman. Sung to the air of Lilliburlero. See "Musick's Handmaid," 1673, where the air is called, "Lilliburlero, or Old Woman whither so high."

/ p.245 /

      P. 98, l. 1. Ding, dong, bell. The burden to a song in the "Tempest," act i. scene 2 ; and also to one in the "Merchant of Venice."

      P. 98, l. 6. Dog with long snout. Sometimes, "Little Johnny Grout."

      P. 102, l. 11. Seek a thing, give a thing. Another version runs thus:

"Give a thing,
Take a thing,
That's the devil's golden ring."

      P. 106, l. 15. Tommy Tibule. A game on a child's toes.

      P. 110, l. 1. To market, to market. A game on the nurse's knee.

      P. 122, l. 1. Bisiter. That is, Bicester, in Oxfordshire.

      P. 127, l. 3. Was. Probably "wasn't."

      P. 128, l. 3. This is said to have been written by Dr. Wallis.

      P.103, l. 2. The charm in the "Townley Mysteries", to which I refer, is as follows:

"For ferde we be fryght a crosse let us kest,
Cryst crosse, benedyght, eest and west,
            For dreede.
      Jesus o'Nazorus,
      Crucyefixus,
      Marcus, Andreas,
            God be our spede."


/ p.246 /

      P. 130, l. 10. The two last lines of this charm are perhaps imitated from the following in Bishop Ken's Evening Hymn:
"Let my blest guardian, while I sleep,
His watchful station near me keep."

      P. 132, l. 1. We are three brethren. Sometimes "knights." The versions of this game vary considerably from each other.

      P. 136, No. 233. The following is a Scotch version of this game:

"1. Buff says Buff to all his men.
 2. I say Buff to you again.
 1. Methinks Buff smiles.
 2. No, Buff never smiles,
     But strokes his face
     With a very good grace,
     And passes the staff to another."

      P. 139, l. 11. Then comes. Sometimes, "Then comes down."

      P. 141, l. 7. A game on a slate.

      P. 142, l. 15. Twelve huntsmen with horns and hounds. This ought to be said in one breath. The following is another version of it:

" Eight ships on the main,
I wish them all safe back again;
Seven eagles in the air,
I wonder how they all came there ;
I don't know, nor I don't care.
/ p.247 /
Six spiders on the wall,
Close to an old woman's apple-stall;
Five puppies in Highgate Hall,
Who daily for their breakfast call;
Four mares stuck in a bog ;
Three monkies tied to a log ;
Two pudding-ends will choke a dog,
With a gaping, wide-mouthed, waddling frog."

      P. 143, l. 16. Girls and boys. The tune to this may be found in all the late editions of Playford's "Dancing Master."

      P. 163, l. 9. Muscles. Some read "cowslips." I have a copy of the date 1797, which has "cuckolds," probably the genuine old reading, and I have seen another read "columbines."

      P. 168, l. 5. When I was a little girl. A friend has kindly furnished me with a different version of these curious lines:

" WHEN I was a little girl,
     I wash'd my mammy's dishes :
I put my finger in my eye,
     And pull'd out four-score fishes.

" My mammy call'd me good girl,
     And bade me do so 'gain :
I put my finger in my eye,
     And pull'd out four score ten."


      It is a singular fact, that a comparatively modern discovery in physiology was anticipated in the original version of this song.

/ p.248 /

      P. 176, l. 12, 13. Sometimes these lines are thus given :

"And one for the little boy
      That lives in the lane."

      P. 180, l. 1. We'll go a shooting. This is an English version of a very curious song, used on the occasion of "hunting the wran," on St. Stephen's Day, in the Isle of Man. On that day the children of the villagers procure a wren, attach it with a string to a branch of holly, decorate the branch with pieces of ribbon that they beg from the various houses, and carry it through the village, singing these lines. An extract from an Irish work, from which it appears that this custom is likewise prevalent in Ireland, is given in Sir Henry Ellis's edition of Brand's "Popular Antiquities," vol. ii. p. 516 :— "The Druids represented this as the king of all birds. The great respect shown to this bird gave great offence to the first Christian missionaries, and, by their command, he is still hunted and killed by the peasants on Christmas Day, and on the following (St. Stephen's Day) he is carried about hung by the leg in the centre of two hoops, crossing each other at right angles, and a procession made in every village, of men, women, and children, importing him to be the king of birds." I am glad to be able to give the genuine traditional song, as recited in the Isle of Man:

/ p.249 /

THE HUNTING OF THE WRAN.

" We'll hunt the wran, says Robin to Bobbin ;
We'll hunt the wran, says Richard to Robin ;
We'll hunt the wran, says Jack o' th' land ;
We'll hunt the wran, says every one.

" Where shall we find him ? says Robin to Bobbin ;
Where shall we find him? says Richard to Robin ;
Where shall we find him ? says Jack o' th' land ;
Where shall we find him ? says every one.

" In yon green bush, says Robin to Bobbin ;
In yon green bush, says Richard to Robin ;
In yon green bush, says Jack o' th' land ;
In yon green bush, says every one.

" How shall we kill him ? says Robin to Bobbin ;
How shall we kill him ? says Richard to Robin ;
How shall we kill him ? says Jack o' th' land ;
How shall we kill him ? says every one.

" With sticks and stones, says Robin to Bobbin ;
With sticks and stones, says Richard to Robin ;
With sticks and stones, says Jack o' th' land ;
With sticks and stones, says every one.

" How shall we get him home ? says Robin to Bobbin ;
How shall we get him home ? says Richard to Robin ;
How shall we get him home ? says Jack o' th' land ;
How shall we get him home ? says every one.

" We'll borrow a cart, says Robin to Bobbin ;
We'll borrow a cart, says Richard to Robin ;
We'll borrow a cart, says Jack o' th' land ;
We'll borrow a cart, says every one.

" How shall we boil him ? says Robin to Bobbin ;
How shall we boil him ? says Richard to Robin ;
How shall we boil him ? says Jack o' th' land ;
How shall we boil him ? says every one.

/ p.250 /
" In the brewery pan, says Robin to Bobbin ;
In the brewery pan, says Richard to Robin ;
In the brewery pan, says Jack o' th' land ;
In the brewery pan, says every one."

      In the copy which was given to me, there were two additional stanzas, beginning respectively, "How shall we eat him?" and, "With knives and forks:" but these are probably modern interpolations.

      P. 194, l. 1. Of all the gay birds. These four lines are part of an old song, the whole of which may be found in "Deuteromelia," 4to. Lond. 1609, and it is singular that it should have come down to us from oral tradition. This version was obtained from Lincolnshire. The following copy is taken from the work here quoted : but there are considerable variations in later copies, some of which may be more correct.

"OF all the birds that ever I see,
The owle is the fayrest in her degree :
For all the day long she sits in a tree,
And when the night comes, away flies she !
To whit, te whow !
Sir knave to thou,
This song is well sung, I make you a vow,
And he is a knave that drinketh now.
Nose, nose, nose, nose !
And who gave you that jolly red nose ?
Sinamont, and ginger, nutmegs and cloves,—
And that gave me my jolly red nose !"