A TREASURY OF STORIES, SINGLES AND RHYMES,

UCY Locket lost her pocket,
Kitty Fisher found it.
There was not a penny in it,

But a ribbon ’round it.

HE North Wind doth, blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will poor Robin do then

poor thing?

 

He will hop to the barn,
And to keep himself warm,
Will hide his head under his wing:

poor thing.

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