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Rh 

King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; And he call'd for his pipe, and he call'd for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three. Ev'ry fiddler had a fine fiddle, A very fine fiddle had he. Then twee tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee, went the fiddler; And so merry we'll all be.

Old King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He call'd for his pipe, and he call'd for his bowl, And he call'd for his harpers three. Ev'ry harper had a fine harp, And a very fine harp had he. Then twang, twanga-twang, twanga-twang, went the harper; Twee, tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee, went the fiddler; And so merry we'll all be.

In the third verse the King calls "for his pipers three."

Then too, tootle-too, tootle-too, went the piper; Twang, twanga-twang, &c. Twee, tweedle-dee, &c. 