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Rh  Why then if they're coming, we'd best make away, And leave them to find such sport as they may.

And if they've a mind to be riding all day, All for no good, let them have their own way.

 

the side of a murmuring stream An elderly gentleman sat; On the top of his head was his wig, On the top of his wig was his hat.

The wind it blew high and blew strong Where this elderly gentleman sat, And took from his head in a trice And plung'd in the river his hat.

The gentleman then took his cane, Which lay by his side as he sat, But he dropp'd in the river his wig, In attempting to get out his hat.

And now in the depth of despair, Though still from the place where he sat, He flung in the river his cane, To swim with his wig and his hat. 