Jack Jingle went ’prentice,
To make a horse-shoe,
He wasted the iron,
Till it would not do,
His master came in,
And began for to rail;
Says Jack, the shoe’s spoil’d,
But ’twill still make a nail.
Little Jack Jingle,
Went to court Suky Shingle,
Says he, shall we mingle
Our toes in the bed;
Fye! Jacky Jingle,
Says little Suke Shingle,
We must try to mingle,
Our pence for some bread.
Suke Shingle when young,
Did what others have done,
She could dirty two clouts,
While her mother wash’d one.
But now grown a stout wench,
With her pail and her mop,
If she don’t clean the board,
She can make a great slop.
Suky you shall be my wife,
And I’ll tell you why;
I have got a little pig,
And you have got a sty;
I have got a dun cow,
And you can make good cheese,
Suky will you have me?
Say yes, if you please.
DEATH & BURIAL OF COCK ROBIN.