A cow and a calf, An ox and a half, Forty good shillings and three; Is that not enough tocher For a shoe-maker's daughter, A bonny lass with a black e'e? CCCCXLIX. O the little rusty, dusty, rusty miller! I'll not change my wife for either gold or siller. CCCCL. As Tommy Snooks and Bessy Brooks Were walking out one Sunday, Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks, "To-morrow will be Monday." CCCCLI. Little Jack Jingle, He used to live single: But when he got tired of this kind of life, He left off being single, and liv'd with his wife. CCCCLII. When shall we be married, My dear Nicholas Wood? We will be married on Monday, And will not that be very good? What, shall we be married no sooner? Why sure the man's gone wood![*] What shall we have for our dinner, My dear Nicholas Wood? We will have bacon and pudding, And will not that be very good? What, shall we have nothing more? Why sure the man's gone wood! Who shall we have at our wedding, My dear Nicholas Wood? We will have mammy and daddy, And will not that be very good? What, shall we have nobody else? Why sure the man's gone wood! [Footnote *: Mad. This sense of the word has long been obsolete; and exhibits therefore, the antiquity of these lines.] CCCCLIII. Tommy Trot, a man of law, Sold his bed and lay upon straw: Sold the straw and slept on grass, To buy his wife a looking-glass. CCCCLIV. We're all dry with drinking on't. We're all dry with drinking on't; The piper spoke to the fiddler's wife, And I can't sleep for thinking on't. CCCCLV. "John, come sell thy fiddle, And buy thy wife a gown." "No, I'll not sell my fiddle, For ne'er a wife in town." CCCCLVI. Up hill and down dale; Butter is made in every vale, And if that Nancy Cook Is a good girl, She shall have a spouse, And make butter anon, Before her old grandmother Grows a young man. CCCCLVII. Jack in the pulpit, out and in; Sold his wife for a minikin pin. CCCCLVIII. Did you see my wife, did you see, did you see, Did you see my wife looking for me? She wears a straw bonnet, with white ribbands on it, And dimity petticoats over her knee. CCCCLIX. Rosemary green, And lavender blue, Thyme and sweet marjoram, Hyssop and rue. CCCCLX. "Little maid, pretty maid, whither goest thou?" "Down in the forest to milk my cow." "Shall I go with thee?" "No, not now; When I send for thee, then come thou." CCCCLXI. I am a pretty wench, And I come a great way hence, And sweethearts I can get none: But every dirty sow, Can get sweethearts enow, And I, pretty wench, can get never a one. CCCCLXII. Birds of a feather flock together, And so will pigs and swine; Rats and mice will have their choice, And so will I have mine. CCCCLXIII.