Page:A Book of Nursery Rhymes.djvu/100



was a little man and he had a little gun, And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He went to the brook, and saw a little duck, And shot it through the head, head, head.

He carried it home to his old wife Joan, And bade her a fire to make, make, make, To roast the little cluck he had shot in the brook, And he'd go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.