380

NURSERY RHYMES.

 

DCLXVI.

To market, to market, a gallop, a trot,

To buy some meat to put in the pot;
Threepence a quarter, a groat a side,

If it hadn’t been killed, it must have died.

DCLXVII.

WE’RE all in the dumps,
For diamonds are trumps ;
The kittens are gone to St. Paul’s!
The babies are bit,
The moon’s in a fit,
And the houses are built without walls.

DCLXVIII.

I HAD a little moppet,
I put it in my pocket,

And fed it with corn and hay;
Then came a proud beggar,
And swore he would have her,

And stole little moppet away.

DCLXIX.

THE children of Holland
Take pleasure in making