The Only True Mother Goose Melodies
by Anonymous - page 29

This is the way the ladies ride,
Prim, prim, prim;
This is the way the gentlemen ride,
Trim, trim, trim.
Presently come the country-folks,
Hobbledy gee, hobbledy gee.

One, Six,
Two, Seven,
Three, Eight,
Four, Nine,
Five, Ten,
I caught a hare alive. I let it go again.

Cock a doodle doo,
My dame has lost her shoe;
My master's lost his fiddlestick,
And knows not what to do.

Tom, Tom of Islington,
Married a wife on Sunday,
Bro't her home on Monday,
Hired a house on Tuesday,
Fed her well on Wednesday,
Sick was she on Thursday,
Dead was she on Friday,
Sad was Tom on Saturday,
To bury his wife on Sunday.

I had a little husband no bigger than my thumb,
I put him in a pint pot, and there I bid him drum;
I bought a little handkerchief to wipe his little nose,
And a pair of little garters to tie his little hose.

As I was going to St. Ives,
I met seven wives,
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits,
Kits, cats, sacks and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?

8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16