When I was a little girl, about seven years old, I hadn't got a petticoat, to cover me from the cold; So I went into Darlington, that pretty little town, And there I bought a petticoat, a cloak, and a gown. I went into the woods and built me a kirk, And all the birds of the air, they helped me to work; The hawk with his long claws pulled down the stone, The dove, with her rough bill, brought me them home; The parrot was the clergyman, the peacock was the clerk, The bullfinch play'd the organ, and we made merry work. LXXIII. Pemmy was a pretty girl, But Fanny was a better; Pemmy looked like any churl, When little Fanny let her. Pemmy had a pretty nose, But Fanny had a better; Pemmy oft would come to blows, But Fanny would not let her. Pemmy had a pretty doll, But Fanny had a better; Pemmy chatter'd like a poll, When little Fanny let her. Pemmy had a pretty song, But Fanny had a better; Pemmy would sing all day long, But Fanny would not let her. Pemmy lov'd a pretty lad, And Fanny lov'd a better; And Pemmy wanted for to wed, But Fanny would not let her. LXXIV. [A tale for the 1st of March.] Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief; Taffy came to my house and stole a piece of beef: I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not at home; Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow-bone. I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not in; Taffy came to my house and stole a silver pin: I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed, I took up a poker and flung it at his head. LXXV. [The tale of Jack Horner has long been appropriated to the nursery. The four lines which follow are the traditional ones, and they form part of 'The pleasant History of Jack Horner, containing his witty Tricks and pleasant Pranks, which he plaied from his Youth to his riper Years,' 12mo, a copy of which is in the Bodleian Library, and this extended story is in substance the same with 'The Fryer and the Boy,' 12mo, Lond. 1617, and both of them are taken from the more ancient story of 'Jack and his Step-dame,' which has been printed by Mr. Wright.] Little Jack Horner sat in the corner, Eating a Christmas pie; He put in his thumb, and he took out a plum, And said, "What a good boy am I!" LXXVI. There was a king and he had three daughter, And they all lived in a basin of water; The basin bended, My story's ended. If the basin had been stronger, My story would have been longer. LXXVII. The man in the moon, Came tumbling down, And ask'd his way to Norwich, He went by the south, And burnt his mouth With supping cold pease-porridge. LXXVIII. Our saucy boy Dick, Had a nice little stick Cut from a hawthorn tree; And with this pretty stick, He thought he could beat A boy much bigger than he.