Page:A book of nursery songs and rhymes (1895).pdf/64

 His breast it grew cold with despair, And full in his eye madness sat, So he flung in the river his cane, To swim with his wig and his hat.

Cool reflection at length came across, While this elderly gentlem an sat, So he thought he would follow the stream, And look for his cane, wig, and hat.

His head being thicker than common, O'erbalanced the rest of his fat, And in plumped the son of a woman, To follow his cane, wig, and hat.

XXXI. CHIT, CHAT

Pretty little damsels, how they chat, Chit, chat, tittle-tattle, All about their sweethearts and all that, Chit, chat, tittle-tattle-tat. Up and down the City, how they walk, And of the beaus and the fashions, how the damsels talk, And now and then a little bit of slander is no balk To their chit, chat, tittle-tattle, Chit, chat, tittle-tattle-tat.