His body will make me a nice little stew,
And his giblets will make me a little pie, too.
Says the little cock-sparrow, I’ll be shot if I stay,
So he clapped his wings, and flew away.
Bless you, bless you, bonny bee;
Say, when will your wedding be?
If it be to-morrow day,
Take your wings and fly away.
One day, an old cat and her kittens
Put on their bonnets and mittens,
And as it was damp, why they put on their clogs;
They thought it would be very nice
To go out in search of some mice,—
But they ran home again when they saw two fierce dogs.