One misty, moisty morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
I chanced to meet an old man clothed all in leather.
He began to compliment, and I began to grin,
How do you do, and how do you do?
And how do you do again?
Father Short came down the lane,
Oh! I'm obliged to hammer and smite
From four in the morning till eight at night,
For a bad master and a worse dame.
There was an old woman had three sons,
Jeffery, Jemmy and John;
Jeffery was hung, and Jemmy was drowned,
And Johnny was never more found:
So there was an end to these three sons,
Jeffery, Jemmy and John.
Hink, minx! the old witch winks,
The fat begins to fry:
There's nobody at home but jumping Joan,
Father, mother, and I.
[Illustration]