II.

I wrote a letter to my love, and on the way I lost it.
Some one has picked it up. Not you, not you (&c.), but you!

—Much Wenlock (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 512).

III.

I lost my supper last night, and the night before,
And if I lose it this night, I shall never have it no more.

—Berrington (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 512).

IV.

I’ve come to borrow the riddle (= sieve),
There’s a big hole in the middle.
I’ve come to borrow the hatchet,
Come after me and catch it.

—Chirbury (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 512).

V.