One, Six,
Two, Seven,
Three, Eight,
Four, Nine,
Five, Ten,
I caught a hare alive. I let it go again.


Cock a doodle doo,
My dame has lost her shoe;
My master's lost his fiddlestick,
And knows not what to do.


Tom, Tom of Islington,
Married a wife on Sunday,
Bro't her home on Monday,
Hired a house on Tuesday,
Fed her well on Wednesday,
Sick was she on Thursday,
Dead was she on Friday,
Sad was Tom on Saturday,
To bury his wife on Sunday.


I had a little husband no bigger than my thumb,
I put him in a pint pot, and there I bid him drum;
I bought a little handkerchief to wipe his little nose,