And all of them gone to the fair.


TO BE SUNG IN A HIGH WIND.

Arthur O'Bower has broken his band,
And he comes roaring up the land,
King of Scots with all his power
Never can turn Sir Arthur O'Bower.


Hush-a-bye, baby, upon the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down tumble cradle and baby and all.


Daffy-down-dilly is new come to town,
With a petticoat green, and a bright yellow gown,
And her white blossoms are peeping around.


There was an old woman, and what do you think?
She liv'd upon nothing--but victuals and drink:
Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet,
And yet this old lady scarce ever was quiet.


The rose is red, the violet is blue,
The gillyflower sweet--and so are you.