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MOTHER GOOSE'S MELODIES. 23 |
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OW, wow, wow, whose dog are thou ? Little Tom Tinker's dog, bow, wow, wow.
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LOW, wind, blow! and go, mill, go ! That the miller may grind his corn; That the baker may take it, And into rolls make it, And send us some hot in the morn. |
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JENNY, good spinner, Come down to your dinner, And taste the leg of a
frog; Then all you good people. Look over the sseeple, And see the cat play with
the dog. |
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