Mary. I never do things the way other folks do. That’s the reason I kissed him instead of you.
Wife. Well, I——
Mother Goose. There, there, now! Don’t fuss. It’s just Contrary Mary. If you mind her, she’ll do something still more contrary.
(All sing. Tune: No. 6.)
No. 6. MISTRESS MARY.
All. Mistress Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow?
Mary (singing). With silver bells and cockle shells And fair maids all in a row.