[6]I am here, and in a few other cases, quoting from myself. It may be necessary to say so, for my former collections on this subject have been appropriated—"convey, the wise it call"—in a work by a learned Doctor, the preface to which is an amusing instance of plagiarism.

An infant of the nineteenth century recalling our recollection to Jack Straw and his "blazey-boys!" Far better this than teaching history with notes "suited to the capacity of the youngest." Another refers to Joanna of Castile, who visited the court of Henry the Seventh in 1506:

I had a little nut-tree, nothing would it bear

But a golden nutmeg and a silver pear;

The King of Spain's daughter came to visit me,

And all for the sake of my little nut-tree.

We have distinct evidence that the well-known rhyme, [7]

The King of France went up the hill,

With twenty thousand men:

The King of France came down the hill,

And ne'er went up again—

was composed before 1588, It occurs in an old tract called Pigges Corantoe, 1642, where it is entitled "Old Tarlton's Song," referring to Tarlton the jester, who died in 1588. The following one belongs to the seventeenth century:

As I was going by Charing Cross,

I saw a black man upon a black horse;

They told me it was King Charles the First;

Oh dear, my heart was ready to burst!

[7]An early variation occurs in MS. Sloane 1489: The king of France, and four thousand men, They drew their swords, and put them up again.

Political nursery-rhymes, or rather political rhymes of a jingling character, which, losing their original application, are preserved only in the nursery, were probably common in the seventeenth century. The two just quoted have evidently an historical application. The manuscript miscellanies of the time of James I. and Charles I. contain several copies of literal rhymes not very unlike "A, B, C, tumble-down D." In the reign of Charles II. political pasquinades constantly partook of the genuine nursery character. We may select the following example, of course put into the mouth of that sovereign, preserved in MS. Douce 357, f. 124, in the Bodleian Library:

See-saw, sack-a-day;

Monmouth is a pretie boy,

Richmond is another,

Grafton is my onely joy,

And why should I these three destroy

To please a pious brother?