ave a pig,
How many hairs will make a wig?
"Four and twenty, that's enough."
Give the barber a pinch of snuff.

DCXXXVI.

If all the seas were one sea,
What a _great_ sea that would be!
And if all the trees were one tree,
What a _great_ tree that would be!
And if all the axes were one axe,
What a _great_ axe that would be!
And if all the men were one man,
What a _great_ man he would be!
And if the _great_ man took the _great_ axe,
And cut down the _great_ tree,
And let it fall into the _great_ sea,
What a splish splash _that_ would be!

DCXXXVII.

I had a little moppet,
I put it in my pocket,
And fed it with corn and hay;
Then came a proud beggar,
And swore he would have her,
And stole little moppet away.

DCXXXVIII.

The barber shaved the mason,
As I suppose
Cut off his nose,
And popp'd it in a basin.

DXXXCIX.

Little Tommy Tacket,
Sits upon his cracket;
Half a yard of cloth will make him coat and jacket;
Make him coat and jacket,
Trowsers to the knee.
And if you will not have him, you may let him be.

DCXL.

Peg, peg, with a wooden leg,
Her father was a miller:
He tossed the dumpling at her head,
And said he could not kill her.

DCXLI.

Parson Darby wore a black gown,
And every button cost half-a-crown;
From port to port, and toe to toe,
Turn the ship and away we go!

DCXLII.

When Jacky's a very good boy,
He shall have cakes and a custard;
But when he does nothing but cry,
He shall have nothing but mustard.

DCXLIII.

Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!
That the miller may grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And send us some hot in the morn.

DCXLIV.

The quaker's wife got up to bake,
Her children all about her,
She gave them every one a cake,
And the miller wants his moulter.

DCXLV.

Wash, hands, wash,
Daddy's gone to plough,
If you want your hands wash'd,
Have them wash'd now.

[A formula for making young children submit to the operation
of having their hands washed. _Mutatis mutandis_, the lines
will serve as a specific for everything of the kind, as
brushing hair, &c.]

DCXLVI.

My little old man and I fell out,
I'll tell you what 'twas all about:
I had money, and he had none,
And that's the way the row begun.

DCXLVII.