Diddle diddle Dumpling
DIDDLE diddle dumpling, my son John,
Went to bed with his breeches on,
One stocking off, and one stocking on;
Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John.
Mary, Mary
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
Silver bells,
and cockle shells,
And pretty maids
all of a row.
Jack Jingle
JACK JINGLE went ’prentice
To make a horse-shoe,
He wasted the iron
Till it would not do.
His master came in,
And began for to rail;
Says Jack, “the shoe’s spoiled,
But ’t will still make a nail.”
He tried at the nail,
But, chancing to miss,
Says, “If it won’t make a nail,
It shall yet make a hiss.”
Then into the water
Threw the hot iron, smack!
“Hiss!” quoth the iron;
“I thought so,” says Jack.