Part 1 — III BABY'S JOURNEYS

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, To see an old lady upon a white horse, Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes. She shall have music wherever she goes.

This is the way the ladies ride; Tri, tre, tre, tree, Tri, tre, tre, tree! This is the way the ladies ride, Tri, tre, tre, tre, tri-tre-tre-tree! This is the way the gentlemen ride; Gallop-a-trot, Gallop-a-trot! This is the way the gentlemen ride, Gallop-a-gallop-a-trot! This is the way the farmers ride; Hobbledy-hoy, Hobbledy-hoy! This is the way the farmers ride, Hobbledy, hobbledy-hoy!

Ride, baby, ride, Pretty baby shall ride, And have a little puppy-dog tied to her side, And a little pussy-cat tied to the other, And away she shall ride To see her grandmother, To see her grandmother, To see her grandmother in London town.

See-saw sacradown, Which is the way to London town? One foot up, the other foot down, That is the way to London town.

To market, to market, To buy a plum bun; Home again, home again, Market is done.

Dance, little baby, dance up high, Never mind, baby, mother is by; Crow and caper, caper and crow, There, little baby, there you go; Up to the ceiling, down to the ground, Backwards and forwards, round and round; Dance, little baby, and mother will sing, With the merry chorus, ding, ding, ding!

A farmer went trotting Upon his gray mare; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! With his daughter behind him, So rosy and fair; Lumpety, lumpety, lump! A raven cried "Croak"; And they all tumbled down; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! The mare broke her knees, And the farmer his crown; Lumpety, lumpety, lump. The mischievous raven Flew laughing away; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! And vowed he would serve them The same the next day; Bumpety, bumpety, bump!

Hey, my kitten, my kitten, And hey, my kitten, my deary! Such a sweet pet as this Was neither far nor neary. Here we go up, up, up, And here we go down, down, downy; And here we go backwards and forwards, And here we go round, round, roundy.

Hey diddle, dinkety, poppety, pet, The merchants of London they wear scarlet; Silk in the collar and gold in the hem, So merrily march the merchantmen.

This is the way the ladies ride— Saddle-a-side, saddle-a-side! This is the way the gentlemen ride— Sitting astride, sitting astride! This is the way the grandmothers ride— Bundled and tied, bundled and tied! This is the way the babykins ride— Snuggled inside, snuggled inside! This is the way when they are late, They all fly over a five-barred gate.

Every evening Baby goes Trot, trot, to town— Across the river, through the fields, Up hill and down. Trot, trot, the Baby goes, Up hill and down, To buy a feather for her hat, To buy a woolen gown. Trot, trot, the Baby goes; The birds fly down, alack! "You cannot have our feathers, dear," They say; "so please trot back." Trot, trot, the Baby goes; The lambs come bleating near. "You cannot have our wool," they say; "But we are sorry, dear." Trot, trot, the Baby goes, Trot, trot, to town. She buys a red rose for her hat, She buys a cotton gown.