THE cock doth crow,
To let you know,
If you be wise,
'Tis time to rise.
ROBERT BARNES, fellow fine,
Can you shoe this horse of mine?
"Yes, good sir, that I can,
As well as any other man:
There's a nail, and there's a prod,
And now, good sir, your horse is shod."
[Bird boy's song.]
EAT, birds, eat, and make no waste;
I lie here and make no haste:
If my master chance to come,
You must fly, and I must run.
"HIE, hie," says Anthony,
"Puss in the pantry,
Gnawing, gnawing
A mutton mutton-bone;
See now she tumbles it,
See now she mumbles it,
See how she tosses
The mutton mutton-bone."
FOUR and twenty tailors went to kill a snail;
The best man among them durst not touch her tail.
She put out her horns like a little Kyloe cow;
Run, tailors, run, or she'll kill you all e'en now.