Mother Goose





There was an old woman, and what do you think?
She liv’d upon nothing but victuals and drink:
And tho’ victuals and drink were the chief of her diet,
This plaguy old woman cou’d never be quiet.
She went to the baker, to buy her some bread,
And when she came home, her old husband was dead:
She went to the clerk to toll the bell,
And when she came back her old husband was well.

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