There was an old woman had three sons,
Jeffery, Jemmy and John;
Jeffery was hung, and Jemmy was drowned,
And Johnny was never more found:
So there was an end to these three sons,
Jeffery, Jemmy and John.
Hink, minx! the old witch winks,
The fat begins to fry:
There’s nobody at home but jumping Joan,
Father, mother, and I.
CLIMBING ON BACKS OF CHAIRS.
What, climb on the back of a chair!
O Henry, how can you do so?
Sometime, if you do not take care,
You will get a most terrible throw.
Suppose grand-mama had got up,
Pray what had become of you then?
Indeed, my dear Henry, I hope
You never will do so again.