Miss Strickland does not appear to have seen the ballad to which she refers; and as we are not aware of the existence of any other ballad on the subject, we presume that her line of ‘pure bathos’ is merely a corruption of one of the ensuing verses.] QUEEN JANE was in travail For six weeks or more, Till the women grew tired, And fain would give o’er. ‘O women! O women! Good wives if ye be, Go, send for King Henrie, And bring him to me.’ King Henrie was sent for, He came with all speed, In a gownd of green velvet From heel to the head. ‘King Henrie! King Henrie! If kind Henrie you be, Send for a surgeon, And bring him to me.’ The surgeon was sent for, He came with all speed, In a gownd of black velvet From heel to the head. He gave her rich caudle, But the death-sleep slept she. Then her right side was opened, And the babe was set free. The babe it was christened, And put out and nursed, While the royal Queen Jane She lay cold in the dust. * * * * * So black was the mourning, And white were the wands, Yellow, yellow the torches, They bore in their hands. The bells they were muffled, And mournful did play, While the royal Queen Jane She lay cold in the clay. Six knights and six lords Bore her corpse through the grounds; Six dukes followed after, In black mourning gownds. The flower of Old England Was laid in cold clay, Whilst the royal King Henrie Came weeping away. THE WANDERING YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN; OR, CATSKIN. [THE following version of this ancient English ballad has been collated with three copies. In some editions it is called _Catskin’s Garland_; _or_, _the Wandering Young Gentlewoman_. The story has a close similarity to that of _Cinderella_, and is supposed to be of oriental origin. Several versions of it are current in Scandinavia, Germany, Italy, Poland, and Wales. For some account of it see _Pictorial Book of Ballads_, ii. 153, edited by Mr. J. S. Moore.] PART I. YOU fathers and mothers, and children also, Draw near unto me, and soon you shall know The sense of my ditty, and I dare to say, The like’s not been heard of this many a day. The subject which to you I am to relate, It is of a young squire of vast estate; The first dear infant his wife did him bear, It was a young daughter of beauty most rare. He said to his wife, ‘Had this child been a boy, ‘Twould have pleased me better, and increased my joy, If the next be the same sort, I declare, Of what I’m possessèd it shall have no share.’ In twelve months’ time after, this woman, we hear, Had another daughter of beauty most clear; And when that he knew it was but a female, Into a bitter passion he presently fell,