Mother, mother, may I go to play?
No, daughter, no! for fear you should stay.
Only as far as the garden gate, to gather flowers for my wedding day.
Make a fine curtsey and go your way.
[They all curtsey and scamper off, and proceed to plan some mischief. Then they return.]
Now where have you been?
Up to Uncle John’s.
What for?
Half a loaf, half a cheese, and half a pound of butter.
Where’s my share?
Up in cupboard.
’Tisn’t there, then!
Then the cat eat it.
And where’s the cat?
Up on the wood [i.e., the faggots].
And where’s the wood?
Fire burnt it.
Where’s the fire?
Water douted it [i.e., put it out].
Where’s the water?
Ox drank it.
Where’s the ox?
Butcher killed it.
And where’s the butcher?
Behind the door cracking nuts, and you may eat the shells of them if you like.
—Dorsetshire (Folk-lore Journal, vii. 219).
Please may I go out to play?
How long will you stay?
Three hours in a day.
Will you come when I call you?
No.
Will you come when I fetch you?
Yes.
Make then your curtseys and be off.
The girls then scamper off as before, and as they run about the field keep calling out, “I won’t go home till seven o’clock, I won’t go home till seven o’clock.” After they have been running about for some five or ten minutes the Mother calls Alice (or whatever the name may be) to come home, when the one addressed will run all the faster, crying louder than before, “I won’t go home till seven o’clock.” Then the Mother commences to chase them until she catches them, and when she gets them to any particular place in the field where the others are playing, she says—
Where have you been?
Up to grandmother’s.
What have you done that you have been away so long?
I have cleaned the grate and dusted the room.
What did she give you?
A piece of bread and cheese so big as a house, and a piece of plum cake so big as a mouse.
Where’s my share?
Up in higher cupboard.
It’s not there.
Up in lower cupboard.
It’s not there.
Then the cat have eat it.
Where’s the cat?
Up in heath.
Where’s the heath?
The fire burnt it.
[The rest is the same as in the last version, [p. 393].]
—Dorsetshire (Folk-lore Journal, vii. 221-222).
Mother, mother, may I (or we) go out to play?
No, child! no, child! not for the day.
Why, mother? why, mother? I won’t stay long.
Make three pretty courtesies, and away begone.
One for mammy, one for daddy, one for Uncle John.
Where, child! where, child! have you been all the day?
Up to granny’s.
What have you been doing there?