I had a little pony,
His name was Dapple-gray: I lent him to a lady,
To ride a mile away.
She whipped him, she slashed him, She rode him through the mire:
I would not lend my pony now For all the lady's hire.
Deedle deedle dumpling, my son John, He went to bed with his stockings on,— One stocking off, and one stocking on; Deedle deedle dumpling, my son John.