LV.
Little Brown Betty, lived at the Gold Can,
Where she brewed good ale for gentlemen;
The gentlemen they came every day,
Till little Brown Betty she hopped away.
LVI.
Dickery, dickery, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
And down he run;
Dickery, dickery, dock!
LVII.
The cuckoo is a pretty bird,
She sings as she flies,
She brings us good tidings,
And never tells lies.
She sucketh sweet flowers
To make her voice clear,
And when she sings cuckoo,
The summer draweth near.
LVIII.
There was an old woman lived under a hill,
And if she's not gone she lives there still.
