The larke, with his long toe, The spynk and martinet, also The shoveler with his brode bek; The dotterell, that folyshe pek The partryche, the quayle, The plover, with us to wayle, The lusty chaunting nightingale; The popinjay to tell her tale That looketh oft in the glasse, Shall read the gospel at Masse. The mavis with her whystle Shall read the epistle, But with a large and a longe To keep just playne songe Our chanters shall be the cuckoo, The culver, the stockdoo, With puwyt, the lapwyng, The versicles shall syng. The bittern with his bumpe, The crane with his trumpe, The swan of Menander, The gose and the gander, The duck and the drake, Shall watch at this wake. The owle, that is so fowle, Must help us to howle; The barnacle, the bussarde, With the wild mallarde; The puffin and teal Money they shall dele; The seamewe, the tytmose, The wodcocke, with the longe nose; The throstyll, with her warblyng, The starling, with her brablyng; The roke and the osprey That putteth fysshe to the fraye; And the dainty curlew, With the turtyll most trew. And it were a Jewe It wold make one rewe To see my sorrow newe! These villainous false cattes Were made for myse and rattes, And not for birdes smale. Alas! my face waxeth pale Telling this piteous tale. Alas! I say agayne, Deth hath departed us twayne; The false cat hath thee slayne. Farewell, Phyllyp, adieu, Our Lord thy soule reskew; Farewell, without restore, Farewell for evermore.’” JOHN SKELTON, born 1460. CONCLUSION The day came when the children were to leave London. The demon of packing was abroad. Open trunks in the passage, frothing over with paper, busy people, excited children, and bustle everywhere. This is the spirit of packing, much beloved of children, but only to be endured in varying degrees of patience by those more nearly concerned.