Cole, is seriously libelled in the
nursery jingle of--

"Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
A merry old soul was he,
He called for his glass, he called for his pipe,
He called for his fiddlers three."

* * * * *

"Rowsty dowt, my fire's all out,
My little Dame Trot is not at home! Oh my!
But I'll saddle my cock and bridle my hen,
And fetch my little dame home again! Home again!
Home she came, tritty-ti-trot,
She asked for some dinner she left in the pot;
Some she ate and some she shod,
And the rest she gave to the truckler's dog.
She took up the ladle and knocked its head,
And now poor dapsy dog is dead!"

* * * * *

"There was a little man and he had a little gun,
And his bullets they were made of lead,
He went to the brook and shot a little duck
Right through its head, head, head.

"He took it home to his wife Joan
And bade her a good fire to make,
While he went to the brook where he shot the little duck
To see if he could shoot the little drake.

"The drake was a-swimming
With its curly tail,
The little man made it his mark,
He let off his gun
But fired too soon,
And the drake flew away with a quack, quack, quack."

The Creole's slave-song to her infant is built on the same lines, and
runs--

"If you were a little bird
And myself a gun,
I would shoot you.
Bum! Bum! Bum!

"Oh! my precious little jewel
Of mahogany,
I love you
As a hog loves mud."

* * * * *

"Some say the devil's dead,
And buried in cold harbour;
Some say he's alive again,
And 'prenticed to a barber."

* * * * *

"I had a little pony, his name was Dapple Grey;
I lent him to a lady, to ride a mile away.
She whipped him and she lashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now
For all that lady's hire."

* * * * *

"Little Blue Betty, she lived in a den,
She sold good ale to gentlemen.
Gentlemen came every day,
And little Blue Betty she skipped away.
She hopped upstairs to make her bed,
But tumbled down and broke her head."

TOM, TOM, THE PIPER'S SON.

"Tom, he was a piper's son,
He learned t