5
‘What’s become of your stag-hounds?’ etc.
‘They swelled and they died; mither,’ etc.
‘Jacky, my son,’ written out by Miss F. J. Adams, a Devonshire lady, and derived by her from her Devonshire nurse, sixty or seventy years ago. (Rev. S. Baring-Gould.)
1
‘Where hast thou been to-day, Jacky, my son?
Where hast thou been to-day, my honey man?’
‘Oh, I’ve been a courting, mother, make my bed soon,
For I am sick to the heart, fain would lie down.’
2