CCCCVII.

Hey ding a ding, what shall I sing? How many holes in a skimmer? Four and twenty,--my stomach is empty; Pray, mamma, give me some dinner.

CCCCVIII.

Cock a doodle doo! My dame has lost her shoe; My master's lost his fiddling stick, And don't know what to do.

Cock a doodle doo! What is my dame to do? Till master finds his fiddling stick, She'll dance without her shoe.

Cock a doodle doo! My dame has lost her shoe, And master's found his fiddling stick, Sing doodle doodle doo!

Cock a doodle doo! My dame will dance with you, While master fiddles his fiddling stick. For dame and doodle doo.

Cock a doodle doo! Dame has lost her shoe; Gone to bed and scratch'd her head, And can't tell what to do.

Diddledy, diddledy, dumpty; The cat ran up the plum-tree. I'll lay you a crown I'll fetch you down; So diddledy, diddledy, dumpty.

Little Tee Wee, He went to sea In an open boat; And while afloat The little boat bended, And my story's ended.

Sing, sing, what shall I sing? The cat has eat the pudding-string; Do, do, what shall I do? The cat has bit it quite in two.