SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE.
Sing a song of sixpence,
A bag full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened
The birds began to sing.
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the king?
The king was in his countinghouse,
Counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlour,
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes;
'Long came a blackbird
And snapt off her nose.
TOM, TOM, THE PIPER'S SON.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run!
The pig was eat, and Tom was beat,
And Tom went roaring down the street.
OLD KING COLE.
Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he!
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he!
Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee went the fiddlers.
Oh, there's none so rare
As can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three!
