'How old may she be,
Billy, my Billy?
How old may she be,
My honey boy?'
'She is twice six, twice seven,
Twice ten, and twice eleven.
Yet she's too young
To be taken from her mammy.'
XXVI. THE CARRION CROW
A carrion crow sat on an oak,
Fol-de-riddle, lol-de-riddle-hi-ding-do.
Watching a tailor shape his coat:
Sing he, sing ho, the old carrion crow;
Fol-de-riddle, lol-de-riddle-hi-ding-do.
'Wife, bring to me my old crossbow,
Fol-de-riddle, etc.
That I may shoot yon carrion crow;'
Sing he, sing ho, etc.
The tailor shot, and he missed his mark,
Fol-de-riddle, etc.
He shot the miller's sow right through the heart,
Sing he, sing ho, etc.
