And sat himself down to dine:
And this is the fearful legend
Of the terrible Heinz Von Stein.
The closing stanza of the old English ballad called “The Rural Dance about the May-pole” is as follows:
“Let’s kiss,” says Jane; “Content,” says Nan,
And so says every she;
“How many?” says Batt; “Why, three,” says Matt,
“For that’s a maiden’s fee.”
But they, instead of three,