———

Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down comes the baby, cradle and all.

———

There was an old woman that lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she knew not what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread,
Then she beat them all well, and sent them to bed.

———

My mother and your mother
Went over the way;
Said my mother to your mother,
It’s chop-a-nose day!

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.