Lilli burlero bullen a-la; Lero lero, lilli burlero, lero lero, bullen a-la; Lero lero, lilli burlero, lero lero, bullen a-la. Without knowing that it was designed as an insult to the French, he used to say and sing in corrupted form, Suum, mun, hey no nonny, Dolphin, my boy, my boy, Sessa, let him trot by. Another was that from the ballad in honour of the Earl of Essex, called Queen Elizabeth's Champion, which Johnson quoted in the Isle of Sky; and Johnson is not the only omnivorous reader in whose memory it has stuck; Raderer too, tandaro tee Radarer, tandorer, tan do ree. And he had treasured up the elder fragment, Martin Swart and his men. Sodledum, sodledum, Martin Swart and his men, Sodledum bell, With hey troly loly lo, whip here Jack, Alumbeck, sodledum, syllerum ben, Martin Swart and his merry men. He had also this relic of the same age, relating as it seems to some now forgotten hero of the strolling minstrels, Rory-bull Joyse, Rumble down, tumble down, hey, go now now. Here is another, for he uttered these things ‘as he had eaten ballads.’ A story strange I will you tell, But not so strange as true, Of a woman that danced upon the rope, And so did her husband too: With a dildo, dildo, dildo, With a dildo, dildo, dee. And he had one of Irish growth, which he sometimes tacked on to this last for the rhyme's sake Callino, callino, Callino, castore me, Era ëe, Era ëe Loo loo, loo loo lee. All these were favourites with little Daniel; and so especially for his name's sake, was My juggy, my puggy, my honey, my coney, My deary, my love, my dove. There was another with which and the Dovean use thereof, it is proper that the reader should now be made acquainted, for it would otherwise require explanation, when he meets with it hereafter. This was the one which, when William Dove trotted little Daniel upon his knee, he used to sing more frequently than any other, because the child, then in the most winning stage of childhood, liked it best of all, and it went to the tune of “God save great George our King” as happily as if that noble tune had been composed for it. The words were, Fa la la lerridan, Dan dan dan derridan, Dan dan dan derridan, Derridan dee. To what old ditty they formed the burden I know not, nor whether it may be (as I suspect) a different reading of “Down, down, down derry down,” which the most learned of living Welshmen supposes to be a Druidical fragment: but the frequent repetition of his own abbreviated name seldom failed to excite in the child one of those hearty and happy laughs which are never enjoyed after that blessed age has past. Most of us have frequently laughed till our sides ached, and many not unfrequently it may be feared laugh till their hearts ache. But the pure, fresh, unalloyed innocent laughter of children, in those moods when they