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MOTHER STORIES
69
But where she was going, no mortal could tell,
For under her arm she carried a broom.
"Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,
"O whither, O whither, O whither so high? "
"I 'm sweeping the cobwebs off the sky!
"Shall I go with thee? " "Ay, by and by."
Peter White will ne'er go right: |
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.