d C. The
verses are repeated, until all are taken.]

CCLXXXVIII.

[The following seems to belong to the last game; but it is
usually found by itself in the small books of children's
rhymes.]

Sieve my lady's oatmeal,
Grind my lady's flour,
Put it in a chesnut,
Let it stand an hour;
One may rush, two may rush,
Come, my girls, walk under the bush.

CCLXXXIX.

Queen Anne, queen Anne, you sit in the sun,
As fair as a lily, as white as a wand.
I send you three letters, and pray read one,
You must read one, if you can't read all,
So pray, Miss or Master, throw up the ball.

CCXC.

There were three jovial Welshmen,
As I have heard them say,
And they would go a-hunting
Upon St. David's day.

All the day they hunted,
And nothing could they find
But a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing with the wind.

One said it was a ship,
The other he said, nay;
The third said it was a house,
With the chimney blown away.

And all the night they hunted,
And nothing could they find
But the moon a-gliding,
A-gliding with the wind.

One said it was the moon,
The other he said, nay;
The third said it was a cheese,
And half o't cut away.

And all the day they hunted,
And nothing could they find
But a hedgehog in a bramble bush,
And that they left behind.

The first said it was a hedgehog,
The second he said, nay;
The third it was a pincushion,
And the pins stuck in wrong way.

And all the night they hunted,
And nothing could they find
But a hare in a turnip field,
And that they left behind.

The first said it was a hare,
The second he said, nay;
The third said it was a calf,
And the cow had run away.

And all the day they hunted,
And nothing could they find
But an owl in a holly tree,
And that they left behind.

One said it was an owl,
The other he said, nay;
The third said 'twas an old man,
And his beard growing grey.

CCXCI.

Is John Smith within?--
Yes, that he is.
Can he set a shoe?--
Ay, marry, two,
Here a nail, there a nail,
Tick, tack, too.

CCXCII.

Margery Mutton-pie, and Johnny Bopeep,
They met together in Grace-church Street;
In and out, in and out, over the way,
Oh! says Johnny, 'tis chop-nose day.

CCXCIII.

Intery, mintery, cutery-corn,
Apple seed and apple thorn;
Wine, bri