"May I go with you, my pretty maid?"
"You're kindly welcome, sir," she said.
"What is your father, my pretty maid?"
"My father's a farmer, sir," she said.
"What is your fortune, my pretty maid?"
"My face is my fortune, sir," she said.
"Then I can't marry you, my pretty maid!"
"Nobody asked you, sir," she said.
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR
The cock's on the housetop, blowing his horn;
The bull's in the barn, a-threshing of corn;
The maids in the meadows are making of hay;
The ducks in the river are swimming away.
KING PIPPIN'S HALL
