LXIII.
Old Mother Goose, when
She wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
'Twas built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For sentinel stood.
This is her son Jack,
A plain-looking lad,
He is not very good,
Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought,
Here, mother, says he,
It will not go for nought.
Jack's goose and her gander,
Grew very fond;
They'd both eat together,
Or swim in one pond.
Jack found one morning,
As I have been told,
His goose had laid him
An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother,
The news for to tell,
She call'd him a good boy,
And said it was well.
Jack sold his gold egg
To a rogue of a Jew,
Who cheated him out of
The half of his due.
Then Jack went a courting,
A lady so gay,
As fair as the lily,
And sweet as the May.
The Jew and the Squire
Came behind his back,
And began to belabour
The sides of poor Jack.
The old Mother Goose,
That instant came in,
And turned her son Jack
Into fam'd Harlequin.
She then with her wand,
Touch'd the lady so fine,
And turn'd her at once
Into sweet Columbine.
The gold egg into the sea
Was thrown then,—
When Jack jump'd in,
And got the egg back again.
The Jew got the goose,
Which he vow'd he would kill,
Resolving at once
His pockets to fill.
Jack's mother came in,
And caught the goose soon,
And mounting its back,
Flew up to the moon.