And they all ran away!
Look a-there, now! Look a-there!
This irreverent mention of His Satanic Majesty was, to our childish ears, almost an unpardonable sin, and we went to our little beds shuddering and confessing ourselves “miserable sinners,” even to have listened to such a word.
A third ballad seems to belong to old colonial times. It went thus:
In good old Colony times,
When we were under the king,
Three sons of Moore’s were turned out doors
Because they could not sing, sing,
Because they could not sing.
The first one, he was a miller,