"Begin," says Hall; "Ay, ay," says Mall,
"We'll lead up Packington's pound:"
"No, no," says Noll, and so says Doll,
"We'll first have Sellenger's round."
Then every man began to foot it round about,
And every girl did jet it,
Jet it, jet it in and out.
"You're out," says Dick; "Not I," says Nick.
"The Fiddler played it false;"
"'Tis true," says Hugh, and so says Sue,
And so says nimble Alice.
The Fiddler then began to play the tune again,
And every girl did trip it,
Trip it, trip it to the men.
Then after an hour, they went to a bower,
And played for ale and cakes,
And kisses too—until they were due the lasses held the stakes.