CLXXV.

John Cook had a little grey mare; he, haw, hum! Her back stood up, and her bones they were bare; he, haw, hum!

John Cook was riding up Shuter's bank; he, haw, hum! And there his nag did kick and prank; he, haw, hum!

John Cook was riding up Shuter's hill; he, haw, hum! His mare fell down, and she made her will; he, haw, hum!

The bridle and saddle were laid on the shelf; he, haw, hum! If you want any more you may sing it yourself; he, haw, hum!