He cut off her petticoats up to her knees,
And the poor little woman began for to freeze.
"She began to shiver, and she began to cry,
Lawk-a-mercy on me! sure it is n't I!
But if it be I, as I think it ought to be,
I 've got a little dog at home, and he knows me!"
I think of a poor, tired Soul,
That has trodden, up and down,
The tradeways of this busy life,
To and from its market town,