Page:A book of nursery songs and rhymes (1895).pdf/87

 He met Dame Trot with a basket of eggs, He used his pipe, and she used her legs; She danced about till the eggs were all broke, O how did she fret, but he laughed at the joke. 'Over the hills,' etc.

He saw a cross fellow was beating an ass, Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and glass; He took out his pipes and played him a tune, And jackass's load was lightened full soon. 'Over the hills,' etc.

LIII. WHERE ARE YOU GOING, MY PRETTY MAID?

'O where are you going, my pretty maid, With your red rosy cheeks and your coal black hair?' 'I'm going a-milking, sir,' she said; 'And it's dabbling in the dew makes the milkmaids fair.'

'May I go with you, my pretty maid, With your red rosy cheeks?' etc. 'O you may go with me, sir,' she said; 'And it's dabbling,' etc.

'I, may I marry you, my pretty maid, With your red rosy cheeks?' etc. 'Wait till you're wanted, sir,' she said; 'And it's dabbling,' etc.