[On arriving at the end of a book, boys have a practice of reciting the following absurd lines, which form the word _finis_ backwards and forwards, by the initials of the words,]-- Father Iohnson Nicholas Iohnson's son-- Son Iohnson Nicholas Iohnson's Father. [To get to father Johnson, therefore, was to reach the end of the book.] CXX. The rose is red, the grass is green; And in this book my name is seen. CXXI. Cross patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, Then call your neighbours in. CXXII. Come when you're called, Do what you're bid, Shut the door after you, Never be chid. CXXIII. Speak when you're spoken to, Come when one call; Shut the door after you, And turn to the wall! CXXIV. I love my love with an A, because he's Agreeable. I hate him because he's Avaricious. He took me to the Sign of the Acorn, And treated me with Apples. His name's Andrew, And he lives at Arlington. CXXV. [A laconic reply to a person who indulges much in supposition.] If ifs and ands, Were pots and pans, There would be no need for tinkers! CXXVI. Mistress Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With cockle-shells, and silver bells, And mussels all a row. CXXVII. Doctor Faustus was a good man, He whipt his scholars now and then; When he whipp'd them he made them dance, Out of Scotland into France, Out of France into Spain, And then he whipp'd them back again! CXXVIII. [A Greek bill of fare.] LEGOMOTON, Acapon, Alfagheuse, Pasti venison. CXXIX. When I was a little boy, I had but little wit It is some time ago, and I've no more yet; Nor ever ever shall, until that I die, For the longer I live, the more fool am I. [Illustration] SIXTH CLASS--SONGS. CXXX. Oh, where are you going, My pretty maiden fair, With your red rosy cheeks, And your coal-black hair? I'm going a-milking, Kind sir, says she; And it's dabbling in the dew, Where you'll find me. May I go with you, My pretty maiden fair, &c. Oh, you may go with me, Kind sir, says she, &c. If I should chance to kiss you, My pretty maiden fair, &c. The wind may take it off again, Kind sir, says she, &c. And what is your father, My pretty maiden fair, &c. My father is a farmer, Kind sir, says she, &c. And what is your mother, My pretty maiden fair, &c. My mother is a dairy-maid, Kind sir, says she, &c. CXXXI. Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, And let's drink tea. Sukey take it off again, Sukey take it off again, Sukey take it off again, They're all gone away. CXXXII. [This is the version generally given in nursery collections, but is somewhat different in the 'Pills to Purge Melancholy,' 1719, vol. iv, p. 148.]