NURSERY RHYMES.

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See-saw, sacradown, Which is the way to London town?

One foot up, and the other down, And that is the way to London town.

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Hey diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon, The little dog laughed to see the sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Ding, dong bell!

p.u.s.s.y's in the well.

Who put her in?

Little Johnny Green.

Who pulled her out?

Little Johnny Snout.

What a naughty boy was that, To drown poor p.u.s.s.y cat, Who never did him any harm, And kill'd the mice in his father's barn.

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Jack and Jill went up the hill, To get a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.

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c.o.c.k a doodle do, The dame has lost her shoe, And master's lost his fiddle stick And don't know what to do.

I had a little husband, No bigger than my thumb.

I put him in a quart pot, And there I bid him drum.

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Who's there? A Grenadier!

What do you want? A pot of beer.

Where's your money? Oh, I forgot, Then get you gone, you drunken sot.

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

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There was an old woman that lived in a shoe, She had so many children she knew not what to do; She gave them some broth without any bread, Then she beat them all well, and sent them to bed.

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My mother and your mother Went over the way; Said my mother to your mother, It's chop-a-nose day!

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.

THE CRIES OF LONDON.

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_Cherries._

Here's round and sound, Black and white heart cherries, Two-pence a pound.

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_Oranges._

Here's oranges nice, At a very small price, I sell them all two for a penny.

Ripe, juicy, and sweet, Just fit for to eat, So customers buy a good many.

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_Milk below._

Rain, frost, or snow, or hot or cold, I travel up and down, The cream and milk you buy of me Is best in all the town.

For custards, puddings, or for tea, There's none like those you buy of me.

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_Crumpling Codlings._

Come buy my Crumpling Codlings, Buy all my Crumplings.

Some of them you may eat raw, Of the rest make dumplings, Or pies, or puddings, which you please.

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_Filberts._

Come buy my filberts ripe and brown, They are the best in all the town, I sell them for a groat a pound, And warrant them all good and sound, You're welcome for to crack and try, They are so good, I'm sure you'll buy.

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_Clothes Pegs, Props, or Lines._

Come, maids, and buy my pegs and props, Or lines to dry your clothes, And when they are dry they'll smell as sweet As any damask rose.

Come buy and save your clothes from dirt, They'll save you washing many a shirt.

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_Sweep._

Sweep, chimney sweep, Is the common cry I keep, If you rightly understand me; With my brush, broom, and my rake, Such cleanly work I make, There's few can go beyond me.