Nursery Rhyme. DCXLIX. Relics.

    My little old man and I fell out,
    I'll tell you what 'twas all about:
    I had money, and he had none,
    And that's the way the row begun.

    Rain, rain, go away,
    Come again another day;
    Little Arthur wants to play.

    The quaker's wife got up to bake,
        Her children all about her,
    She gave them every one a cake,
        And the miller wants his moulter.

        I had a little moppet,
        I put it in my pocket,
    And fed it with corn and hay;
        Then came a proud beggar,
        And swore he would have her,
    And stole little moppet away.

    The girl in the lane, that couldn't speak plain,
        Cried "gobble, gobble, gobble:"
    The man on the hill, that couldn't stand still,
        Went hobble, hobble, hobble.

    If a body meet a body,
        In a field of fitches;
    Can a body tell a body
        Where a body itches?