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A BOOK OF NURSERY RHYMES
There was a little man and he had a little
gun,
And his bullets were made of lead, lead,
lead;
He went to the brook, and saw a little
duck,
And shot it through the head, head, head.
He carried it home to his old wife Joan,
And bade her a fire to make, make, make,
To roast the little cluck he had shot in the
brook,
And he'd go and fetch the drake, drake,
drake.
