‘Why, you old fool! blind fool! can’t you very well see,
These are three pudding-bags my mother sent to me?’
‘Ods bobs! well done! pudding-bags with spurs on!
The like was never known!’
Old Wichet a cuckold went out, and a cuckold he came home!
O! I went into the dairy, and there for to see,
And there I saw three hats hang, by one, by two, and by three;
O! I called to my loving wife, and ‘Anon, kind sir!’ quoth she;
‘Pray what do these three hats here, without the leave of me?’
‘Why, you old fool! blind fool! can’t you very well see,
These are three skimming-dishes my mother sent to me?’
‘Ods bobs! well done! skimming-dishes with hat-bands on!
The like was never known!’
Old Wichet a cuckold went out, and a cuckold he came home!
O! I went into the chamber, and there for to see,
And there I saw three men in bed, by one, by two, and by three;
O! I called to my loving wife, and ‘Anon, kind sir!’ quoth she;
‘O! what do these three men here, without the leave of me?’
‘Why, you old fool! blind fool! can’t you very well see,
They are three milking-maids my mother sent to me?’
‘Ods bobs! well done! milking-maids with beards on!
The like was never known!’
Old Wichet a cuckold went out, and a cuckold he came home!
THE JOLLY WAGGONER.
[This country song can be traced back a century at least, but is, no doubt, much older. It is very popular in the West of England. The words are spirited and characteristic. We may, perhaps, refer the song to the days of transition, when the waggon displaced the packhorse.]
When first I went a-waggoning, a-waggoning did go,
I filled my parents’ hearts full of sorrow, grief, and woe. [208a]
And many are the hardships that I have since gone through.
And sing wo, my lads, sing wo!
Drive on my lads, I-ho! [208b]
And who wouldn’t lead the life of a jolly waggoner?
It is a cold and stormy night, and I’m wet to the skin,
I will bear it with contentment till I get unto the inn.
And then I’ll get a drinking with the landlord and his kin.
And sing, &c.
Now summer it is coming,—what pleasure we shall see;
The small birds are a-singing on every green tree,
The blackbirds and the thrushes are a-whistling merrilie.
And sing, &c.