My Pretty Maid
“Where are you going to, my pretty maid?” “I am going a-milking, sir,” she said.
“May I go with you, my pretty maid?” “You’re kindly welcome, sir,” she said.
“What is your father, my pretty maid?” “My father’s a farmer, sir,” she said.
“What is your fortune, my pretty maid?” “My face is my fortune, sir,” she said.
“Then I won’t marry you, my pretty maid.” “Nobody asked you, sir,” she said.
The original of the following, which has delighted particularly the children of Scotland for many generations, appears with its pleasing air in Johnson’s Musical Museum:—