‘Wife, go fetch me my arrow and my bow, I’ll have a shot at that carrion crow.’ Heigho! the carrion crow. The tailor he shot, and he missed his mark, But he shot the old sow through the heart. Heigho! the carrion crow. ‘Wife, go fetch me some treacle in a spoon, For the old sow’s in a terrible swoon!’ Heigho! the carrion crow. The old sow died, and the bells they did toll, And the little pigs prayed for the old sow’s soul! Heigho! the carrion crow. ‘Never mind,’ said the tailor, ‘I don’t care a flea, There’ll be still black-puddings, souse, and chitterlings for me.’ Heigho! the carrion crow. THE LEATHERN BOTTEL. SOMERSETSHIRE VERSION. [IN Chappell’s _Popular Music_ is a much longer version of _The Leathern Bottèl_. The following copy is the one sung at the present time by the country-people in the county of Somerset. It has been communicated to our pages by Mr. Sandys.] GOD above, who rules all things, Monks and abbots, and beggars and kings, The ships that in the sea do swim, The earth, and all that is therein; Not forgetting the old cow’s hide, And everything else in the world beside: And I wish his soul in heaven may dwell, Who first invented this leathern bottèl! Oh! what do you say to the glasses fine? Oh! they shall have no praise of mine; Suppose a gentleman sends his man To fill them with liquor, as fast as he can, The man he falls, in coming away, And sheds the liquor so fine and gay; But had it been in the leathern bottèl, And the stopper been in, ‘twould all have been well! Oh! what do you say to the tankard fine? Oh! it shall have no praise of mine; Suppose a man and his wife fall out,— And such things happen sometimes, no doubt,— They pull and they haul; in the midst of the fray They shed the liquor so fine and gay; But had it been in the leathern bottèl, And the stopper been in, ’twould all have been well! Now, when this bottèl it is worn out, Out of its sides you may cut a clout; This you may hang upon a pin,— ’Twill serve to put odd trifles in; Ink and soap, and candle-ends, For young beginners have need of such friends. And I wish his soul in heaven may dwell, Who first invented the leathern bottèl! THE FARMER’S OLD WIFE. A SUSSEX WHISTLING SONG.