Down by the greenwood, down by the greenwood,
Down by the greenwood tree,
One can follow, one can follow,
One can follow me.
Where must I follow? where must I follow?
Follow, follow me.
Where must I follow? where must I follow?
Follow, follow me.
—Earls Heaton (H. Hardy).
Mr. Monday was a good man,
He whipped his children now and then;
When he whipped them he made them dance,
Out of Scotland into France;
Out of France into Spain,
Back to dear old England again.
O-u-t spells “out,”
If you please stand out.
I had a little dog and his name was Buff,
I sent him after a penn’orth of snuff,
He broke the paper and smelled the snuff,
And that’s the end of my dog Buff.
He shan’t bite you—he shan’t bite you—he shan’t bite you, &c., &c.—he shall bite you all over.
—Dorsetshire (Folk-lore Journal, vii. 213).
I sent a letter to my love,
I carried water in my glove,
And by the way I dropped it.
I did so! I did so!
I had a little dog that said “Bow! wow!”
I had a little cat that said “Meow! meow!”
Shan’t bite you—shan’t bite you—
Shall bite you.
—Cornwall (Folk-lore Journal, v. 52).