DCLVI.

Blenky my nutty-cock, Blenk him away; My nutty-cock's never Been blenk'd to-day. What wi' carding and spinning on't wheel, We've never had time to blenk nutty-cock weel; But let to-morrow come ever so sune, My nutty-cock it sall be blenk'd by nune.

To market, to market, to buy a plum-cake, Back again, back again, baby is late; To market, to market, to buy a plum-bun, Back again, back again, market is done.

St. Thomas's-day is past and gone, And Christmas is a-most a-come, Maidens arise, And make your pies, And save poor tailor Bobby some.