D

1Four and twenty bonny boysWar playing at the ba;Then up and started sweet Sir Hew,The flower amang them a’.2He hit the ba a kick wi’s fit,And kept it wi his knee,That up into the Jew’s windowHe gart the bonny ba flee.3‘Cast doun the ba to me, fair maid,Cast doun the ba to me;’‘O neer a bit o the ba ye getTill ye cum up to me.4‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,Cum up and get the ba;’‘I canna cum, I darna cum,Without my play-feres twa.’5‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,Cum up and play wi me;’‘I canna cum, I darna cum,Without my play-feres three.’6She’s gane into the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grew lang and green;She powd an apple red and white,To wyle the young thing in.7She wyl’d him into ae chamber,She wyl’d him into twa,She wyl’d him to her ain chamber,The fairest o them a’.8She laid him on a dressing-board,Where she did sometimes dine;She put a penknife in his heart,And dressed him like a swine.9Then out and cam the thick, thick blude,Then out and cam the thin;Then out and cam the bonny heart’s blude,Where a’the life lay in.10She rowd him in a cake of lead,Bad him lie still and sleep;She cast him in the Jew’s draw-well,Was fifty fadom deep.11She’s tane her mantle about her head,Her pike-staff in her hand,And prayed Heaven to be her guideUnto some uncouth land.12His mither she cam to the Jew’s castle,And there ran thryse about:‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,I pray ye to me speak.’13She cam into the Jew’s garden,And there ran thryse about:‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,I pray ye to me speak.’14She cam unto the Jew’s draw-well,And there ran thryse about:‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,I pray ye to me speak.’15‘How can I speak, how dare I speak,How can I speak to thee?The Jew’s penknife sticks in my heart,I canna speak to thee.16‘Gang hame, gang hame, O mither dear,And shape my winding sheet,And at the birks of Mirryland townThere you and I shall meet.’17Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung,And a’men bound for bed,Every mither had her son,But sweet Sir Hew was dead.

1Four and twenty bonny boysWar playing at the ba;Then up and started sweet Sir Hew,The flower amang them a’.

Four and twenty bonny boys

War playing at the ba;

Then up and started sweet Sir Hew,

The flower amang them a’.

2He hit the ba a kick wi’s fit,And kept it wi his knee,That up into the Jew’s windowHe gart the bonny ba flee.

He hit the ba a kick wi’s fit,

And kept it wi his knee,

That up into the Jew’s window

He gart the bonny ba flee.

3‘Cast doun the ba to me, fair maid,Cast doun the ba to me;’‘O neer a bit o the ba ye getTill ye cum up to me.

‘Cast doun the ba to me, fair maid,

Cast doun the ba to me;’

‘O neer a bit o the ba ye get

Till ye cum up to me.

4‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,Cum up and get the ba;’‘I canna cum, I darna cum,Without my play-feres twa.’

‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,

Cum up and get the ba;’

‘I canna cum, I darna cum,

Without my play-feres twa.’

5‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,Cum up and play wi me;’‘I canna cum, I darna cum,Without my play-feres three.’

‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew,

Cum up and play wi me;’

‘I canna cum, I darna cum,

Without my play-feres three.’

6She’s gane into the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grew lang and green;She powd an apple red and white,To wyle the young thing in.

She’s gane into the Jew’s garden,

Where the grass grew lang and green;

She powd an apple red and white,

To wyle the young thing in.

7She wyl’d him into ae chamber,She wyl’d him into twa,She wyl’d him to her ain chamber,The fairest o them a’.

She wyl’d him into ae chamber,

She wyl’d him into twa,

She wyl’d him to her ain chamber,

The fairest o them a’.

8She laid him on a dressing-board,Where she did sometimes dine;She put a penknife in his heart,And dressed him like a swine.

She laid him on a dressing-board,

Where she did sometimes dine;

She put a penknife in his heart,

And dressed him like a swine.

9Then out and cam the thick, thick blude,Then out and cam the thin;Then out and cam the bonny heart’s blude,Where a’the life lay in.

Then out and cam the thick, thick blude,

Then out and cam the thin;

Then out and cam the bonny heart’s blude,

Where a’the life lay in.

10She rowd him in a cake of lead,Bad him lie still and sleep;She cast him in the Jew’s draw-well,Was fifty fadom deep.

She rowd him in a cake of lead,

Bad him lie still and sleep;

She cast him in the Jew’s draw-well,

Was fifty fadom deep.

11She’s tane her mantle about her head,Her pike-staff in her hand,And prayed Heaven to be her guideUnto some uncouth land.

She’s tane her mantle about her head,

Her pike-staff in her hand,

And prayed Heaven to be her guide

Unto some uncouth land.

12His mither she cam to the Jew’s castle,And there ran thryse about:‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,I pray ye to me speak.’

His mither she cam to the Jew’s castle,

And there ran thryse about:

‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,

I pray ye to me speak.’

13She cam into the Jew’s garden,And there ran thryse about:‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,I pray ye to me speak.’

She cam into the Jew’s garden,

And there ran thryse about:

‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,

I pray ye to me speak.’

14She cam unto the Jew’s draw-well,And there ran thryse about:‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,I pray ye to me speak.’

She cam unto the Jew’s draw-well,

And there ran thryse about:

‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here,

I pray ye to me speak.’

15‘How can I speak, how dare I speak,How can I speak to thee?The Jew’s penknife sticks in my heart,I canna speak to thee.

‘How can I speak, how dare I speak,

How can I speak to thee?

The Jew’s penknife sticks in my heart,

I canna speak to thee.

16‘Gang hame, gang hame, O mither dear,And shape my winding sheet,And at the birks of Mirryland townThere you and I shall meet.’

‘Gang hame, gang hame, O mither dear,

And shape my winding sheet,

And at the birks of Mirryland town

There you and I shall meet.’

17Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung,And a’men bound for bed,Every mither had her son,But sweet Sir Hew was dead.

Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung,

And a’men bound for bed,

Every mither had her son,

But sweet Sir Hew was dead.

Herd’s MS., I, 213; stanzas 7–10, II, 219.

1A’the boys of merry LinkimWar playing at the ba,An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,The flower amang them a’.2He keppit the ba than wi his foot,And catchd it wi his knee,And even in at the Jew’s windowHe gart the bonny ba flee.3‘Cast out the ba to me, fair maid,Cast out the ba to me!’‘Ah never a bit of it,’ she says,‘Till ye come up to me.4‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,Come up and get the ba’!’‘I winna come up, I mayna come [up],Without my bonny boys a’.’5‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,Come up and speak to me!’‘I mayna come up, I winna come up,Without my bonny boys three.’6She’s taen her to the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grew lang and green,She’s pu’d an apple reid and white,To wyle the bonny boy in.7She’s wyl’d him in thro ae chamber,She’s wyl’d him in thro twa,She’s wyl’d him till her ain chamber,The flower out owr them a’.8She’s laid him on a dressin-board,Whare she did often dine;She stack a penknife to his heart,And dressd him like a swine.9She rowd him in a cake of lead,Bade him lie still and sleep;She threw him i the Jew’s draw-well,’Twas fifty fathom deep.10Whan bells was rung, and mass was sung,An a’ man bound to bed,Every lady got hame her son,But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.

1A’the boys of merry LinkimWar playing at the ba,An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,The flower amang them a’.

A’the boys of merry Linkim

War playing at the ba,

An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,

The flower amang them a’.

2He keppit the ba than wi his foot,And catchd it wi his knee,And even in at the Jew’s windowHe gart the bonny ba flee.

He keppit the ba than wi his foot,

And catchd it wi his knee,

And even in at the Jew’s window

He gart the bonny ba flee.

3‘Cast out the ba to me, fair maid,Cast out the ba to me!’‘Ah never a bit of it,’ she says,‘Till ye come up to me.

‘Cast out the ba to me, fair maid,

Cast out the ba to me!’

‘Ah never a bit of it,’ she says,

‘Till ye come up to me.

4‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,Come up and get the ba’!’‘I winna come up, I mayna come [up],Without my bonny boys a’.’

‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,

Come up and get the ba’!’

‘I winna come up, I mayna come [up],

Without my bonny boys a’.’

5‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,Come up and speak to me!’‘I mayna come up, I winna come up,Without my bonny boys three.’

‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,

Come up and speak to me!’

‘I mayna come up, I winna come up,

Without my bonny boys three.’

6She’s taen her to the Jew’s garden,Where the grass grew lang and green,She’s pu’d an apple reid and white,To wyle the bonny boy in.

She’s taen her to the Jew’s garden,

Where the grass grew lang and green,

She’s pu’d an apple reid and white,

To wyle the bonny boy in.

7She’s wyl’d him in thro ae chamber,She’s wyl’d him in thro twa,She’s wyl’d him till her ain chamber,The flower out owr them a’.

She’s wyl’d him in thro ae chamber,

She’s wyl’d him in thro twa,

She’s wyl’d him till her ain chamber,

The flower out owr them a’.

8She’s laid him on a dressin-board,Whare she did often dine;She stack a penknife to his heart,And dressd him like a swine.

She’s laid him on a dressin-board,

Whare she did often dine;

She stack a penknife to his heart,

And dressd him like a swine.

9She rowd him in a cake of lead,Bade him lie still and sleep;She threw him i the Jew’s draw-well,’Twas fifty fathom deep.

She rowd him in a cake of lead,

Bade him lie still and sleep;

She threw him i the Jew’s draw-well,

’Twas fifty fathom deep.

10Whan bells was rung, and mass was sung,An a’ man bound to bed,Every lady got hame her son,But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.

Whan bells was rung, and mass was sung,

An a’ man bound to bed,

Every lady got hame her son,

But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.

Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, p. 51, as taken down from the recitation of a lady.

1Yesterday was brave Hallowday,And, above all days of the year,The schoolboys all got leave to play,And little Sir Hugh was there.2He kicked the ball with his foot,And kepped it with his knee,And even in at the Jew’s windowHe gart the bonnie ba flee.3Out then came the Jew’s daughter:‘Will ye come in and dine?’‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,Till I get that ball of mine.4‘Throw down that ball to me, maiden,Throw down the ball to me!’‘I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh,Till ye come up to me.’5She pu’d the apple frae the tree,It was baith red and green;She gave it unto little Sir Hugh,With that his heart did win.6She wiled him into ae chamber,She wiled him into twa,She wiled him into the third chamber,And that was warst o’t a’.7She took out a little penknife,Hung low down by her spare,She twined this young thing o his life,And a word he neer spak mair.8And first came out the thick, thick blood,And syne came out the thin,And syne came out the bonnie heart’s blood,There was nae mair within.9She laid him on a dressing-table,She dressd him like a swine;Says, Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,Wi yere apples red and green!10She put him in a case of lead,Says, Lie ye there and sleep!She threw him into the deep draw-well,Was fifty fathom deep.11A schoolboy walking in the gardenDid grievously hear him moan;He ran away to the deep draw-well,And fell down on his knee.12Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,I pray you speak to me!If you speak to any body in this world,I pray you speak to me.13When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And every body went hame,Then every lady had her son,But Lady Helen had nane.14She rolled her mantle her about,And sore, sore did she weep;She ran away to the Jew’s castle,When all were fast asleep.15She cries, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,I pray you speak to me!If you speak to any body in this world,I pray you speak to me.16‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son,I’ll tell ye where to seek;Lady Helen, if ye want your son,He’s in the well sae deep.’17She ran away to the deep draw-well,And she fell down on her knee,Saying, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,I pray ye speak to me!If ye speak to any body in the world,I pray ye speak to me.18‘Oh the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,The well it is wondrous deep;The little penknife sticks in my throat,And I downa to ye speak.19‘But lift me out o this deep draw-well,And bury me in yon churchyard;. . . . . . . .. . . . . . .20‘Put a Bible at my head,’ he says,‘And a Testament at my feet,And pen and ink at every side,And I’ll lie still and sleep.21‘And go to the back of Maitland town,Bring me my winding sheet;For it’s at the back of Maitland townThat you and I shall meet.’22O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom that makes full sore,A woman’s mercy is very little,But a man’s mercy is more.

1Yesterday was brave Hallowday,And, above all days of the year,The schoolboys all got leave to play,And little Sir Hugh was there.

Yesterday was brave Hallowday,

And, above all days of the year,

The schoolboys all got leave to play,

And little Sir Hugh was there.

2He kicked the ball with his foot,And kepped it with his knee,And even in at the Jew’s windowHe gart the bonnie ba flee.

He kicked the ball with his foot,

And kepped it with his knee,

And even in at the Jew’s window

He gart the bonnie ba flee.

3Out then came the Jew’s daughter:‘Will ye come in and dine?’‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,Till I get that ball of mine.

Out then came the Jew’s daughter:

‘Will ye come in and dine?’

‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,

Till I get that ball of mine.

4‘Throw down that ball to me, maiden,Throw down the ball to me!’‘I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh,Till ye come up to me.’

‘Throw down that ball to me, maiden,

Throw down the ball to me!’

‘I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh,

Till ye come up to me.’

5She pu’d the apple frae the tree,It was baith red and green;She gave it unto little Sir Hugh,With that his heart did win.

She pu’d the apple frae the tree,

It was baith red and green;

She gave it unto little Sir Hugh,

With that his heart did win.

6She wiled him into ae chamber,She wiled him into twa,She wiled him into the third chamber,And that was warst o’t a’.

She wiled him into ae chamber,

She wiled him into twa,

She wiled him into the third chamber,

And that was warst o’t a’.

7She took out a little penknife,Hung low down by her spare,She twined this young thing o his life,And a word he neer spak mair.

She took out a little penknife,

Hung low down by her spare,

She twined this young thing o his life,

And a word he neer spak mair.

8And first came out the thick, thick blood,And syne came out the thin,And syne came out the bonnie heart’s blood,There was nae mair within.

And first came out the thick, thick blood,

And syne came out the thin,

And syne came out the bonnie heart’s blood,

There was nae mair within.

9She laid him on a dressing-table,She dressd him like a swine;Says, Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,Wi yere apples red and green!

She laid him on a dressing-table,

She dressd him like a swine;

Says, Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh,

Wi yere apples red and green!

10She put him in a case of lead,Says, Lie ye there and sleep!She threw him into the deep draw-well,Was fifty fathom deep.

She put him in a case of lead,

Says, Lie ye there and sleep!

She threw him into the deep draw-well,

Was fifty fathom deep.

11A schoolboy walking in the gardenDid grievously hear him moan;He ran away to the deep draw-well,And fell down on his knee.

A schoolboy walking in the garden

Did grievously hear him moan;

He ran away to the deep draw-well,

And fell down on his knee.

12Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,I pray you speak to me!If you speak to any body in this world,I pray you speak to me.

Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,

I pray you speak to me!

If you speak to any body in this world,

I pray you speak to me.

13When bells were rung, and mass was sung,And every body went hame,Then every lady had her son,But Lady Helen had nane.

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,

And every body went hame,

Then every lady had her son,

But Lady Helen had nane.

14She rolled her mantle her about,And sore, sore did she weep;She ran away to the Jew’s castle,When all were fast asleep.

She rolled her mantle her about,

And sore, sore did she weep;

She ran away to the Jew’s castle,

When all were fast asleep.

15She cries, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,I pray you speak to me!If you speak to any body in this world,I pray you speak to me.

She cries, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,

I pray you speak to me!

If you speak to any body in this world,

I pray you speak to me.

16‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son,I’ll tell ye where to seek;Lady Helen, if ye want your son,He’s in the well sae deep.’

‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son,

I’ll tell ye where to seek;

Lady Helen, if ye want your son,

He’s in the well sae deep.’

17She ran away to the deep draw-well,And she fell down on her knee,Saying, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,I pray ye speak to me!If ye speak to any body in the world,I pray ye speak to me.

She ran away to the deep draw-well,

And she fell down on her knee,

Saying, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh,

I pray ye speak to me!

If ye speak to any body in the world,

I pray ye speak to me.

18‘Oh the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,The well it is wondrous deep;The little penknife sticks in my throat,And I downa to ye speak.

‘Oh the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother,

The well it is wondrous deep;

The little penknife sticks in my throat,

And I downa to ye speak.

19‘But lift me out o this deep draw-well,And bury me in yon churchyard;. . . . . . . .. . . . . . .

‘But lift me out o this deep draw-well,

And bury me in yon churchyard;

. . . . . . . .

. . . . . . .

20‘Put a Bible at my head,’ he says,‘And a Testament at my feet,And pen and ink at every side,And I’ll lie still and sleep.

‘Put a Bible at my head,’ he says,

‘And a Testament at my feet,

And pen and ink at every side,

And I’ll lie still and sleep.

21‘And go to the back of Maitland town,Bring me my winding sheet;For it’s at the back of Maitland townThat you and I shall meet.’

‘And go to the back of Maitland town,

Bring me my winding sheet;

For it’s at the back of Maitland town

That you and I shall meet.’

22O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,The broom that makes full sore,A woman’s mercy is very little,But a man’s mercy is more.

O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom,

The broom that makes full sore,

A woman’s mercy is very little,

But a man’s mercy is more.

Hume’s Sir Hugh of Lincoln, p. 35, obtained from recitation in Ireland.

1’Twas on a summer’s morningSome scholars were playing at ball,When out came the Jew’s daughterAnd leand her back against the wall.2She said unto the fairest boy,Come here to me, Sir Hugh;‘No! I will not,’ said he,‘Without my playfellows too.’3She took an apple out of her pocket,And trundled it along the plain,And who was readiest to lift itWas little Sir Hugh again.4She took him by the milk-white han,An led him through many a hall,Until they came to one stone chamber,Where no man might hear his call.5She set him in a goolden chair,And jaggd him with a pin,And called for a goolden cupTo houl his heart’s blood in.6She tuk him by the yellow hair,An also by the feet,An she threw him in the deep draw-well;It was fifty fadom deep.7Day bein over, the night came on,And the scholars all went home;Then every mother had her son,But little Sir Hugh’s had none.8She put her mantle about her head,Tuk a little rod in her han,An she says, Sir Hugh, if I fin you here,I will bate you for stayin so long.9First she went to the Jew’s door,But they were fast asleep;An then she went to the deep draw-well,That was fifty fadom deep.10She says, Sir Hugh, if you be here,As I suppose you be,If ever the dead or quick arose,Arise and spake to me.11‘Yes, mother dear, I am here,I know I have staid very long;But a little penknife was stuck in my heart,Till the stream ran down full strong.12‘And mother dear, when you go home,Tell my playfellows allThat I lost my life by leaving them,When playing that game of ball.13‘And ere another day is gone,My winding-sheet prepare,And bury me in the green churchyard,Where the flowers are bloomin fair.14‘Lay my Bible at my head,My Testament at my feet;The earth and worms shall be my bed,Till Christ and I shall meet.’

1’Twas on a summer’s morningSome scholars were playing at ball,When out came the Jew’s daughterAnd leand her back against the wall.

’Twas on a summer’s morning

Some scholars were playing at ball,

When out came the Jew’s daughter

And leand her back against the wall.

2She said unto the fairest boy,Come here to me, Sir Hugh;‘No! I will not,’ said he,‘Without my playfellows too.’

She said unto the fairest boy,

Come here to me, Sir Hugh;

‘No! I will not,’ said he,

‘Without my playfellows too.’

3She took an apple out of her pocket,And trundled it along the plain,And who was readiest to lift itWas little Sir Hugh again.

She took an apple out of her pocket,

And trundled it along the plain,

And who was readiest to lift it

Was little Sir Hugh again.

4She took him by the milk-white han,An led him through many a hall,Until they came to one stone chamber,Where no man might hear his call.

She took him by the milk-white han,

An led him through many a hall,

Until they came to one stone chamber,

Where no man might hear his call.

5She set him in a goolden chair,And jaggd him with a pin,And called for a goolden cupTo houl his heart’s blood in.

She set him in a goolden chair,

And jaggd him with a pin,

And called for a goolden cup

To houl his heart’s blood in.

6She tuk him by the yellow hair,An also by the feet,An she threw him in the deep draw-well;It was fifty fadom deep.

She tuk him by the yellow hair,

An also by the feet,

An she threw him in the deep draw-well;

It was fifty fadom deep.

7Day bein over, the night came on,And the scholars all went home;Then every mother had her son,But little Sir Hugh’s had none.

Day bein over, the night came on,

And the scholars all went home;

Then every mother had her son,

But little Sir Hugh’s had none.

8She put her mantle about her head,Tuk a little rod in her han,An she says, Sir Hugh, if I fin you here,I will bate you for stayin so long.

She put her mantle about her head,

Tuk a little rod in her han,

An she says, Sir Hugh, if I fin you here,

I will bate you for stayin so long.

9First she went to the Jew’s door,But they were fast asleep;An then she went to the deep draw-well,That was fifty fadom deep.

First she went to the Jew’s door,

But they were fast asleep;

An then she went to the deep draw-well,

That was fifty fadom deep.

10She says, Sir Hugh, if you be here,As I suppose you be,If ever the dead or quick arose,Arise and spake to me.

She says, Sir Hugh, if you be here,

As I suppose you be,

If ever the dead or quick arose,

Arise and spake to me.

11‘Yes, mother dear, I am here,I know I have staid very long;But a little penknife was stuck in my heart,Till the stream ran down full strong.

‘Yes, mother dear, I am here,

I know I have staid very long;

But a little penknife was stuck in my heart,

Till the stream ran down full strong.

12‘And mother dear, when you go home,Tell my playfellows allThat I lost my life by leaving them,When playing that game of ball.

‘And mother dear, when you go home,

Tell my playfellows all

That I lost my life by leaving them,

When playing that game of ball.

13‘And ere another day is gone,My winding-sheet prepare,And bury me in the green churchyard,Where the flowers are bloomin fair.

‘And ere another day is gone,

My winding-sheet prepare,

And bury me in the green churchyard,

Where the flowers are bloomin fair.

14‘Lay my Bible at my head,My Testament at my feet;The earth and worms shall be my bed,Till Christ and I shall meet.’

‘Lay my Bible at my head,

My Testament at my feet;

The earth and worms shall be my bed,

Till Christ and I shall meet.’

a.Written down by Mrs Dulany, January 14, 1885, from the recitation of her mother, Mrs Nourse, aged above ninety, as learned when a child, in Philadelphia.b.From the same source, furnished several years earlier by Miss Perine, of Baltimore.

1It rains, it rains in old Scotland,And down the rain does fa,And all the boys in our townAre out a playing at ba.2‘You toss your balls too high, my boys,You toss your balls too low;You’ll toss them into the Jew’s garden,Wherein you darst not go.’3Then out came one of the Jew’s daughters,All dressed in red and green:‘Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,And get your ball again.’4‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,Without my playmates all,And without the will of my mother dear,Which would cause my heart’s blood to fall.’5She shewed him an apple as green as grass,She shewed him a gay gold ring,She shewed him a cherry as red as blood,Which enticed the little boy in.6She took him by the lily-white hand,And led him into the hall,And laid him on a dresser-board,And that was the worst of all.7She laid the Bible at his head,The Prayer-Book at his feet,And with a penknife smallShe stuck him like a sheep.8Six pretty maids took him by the head,And six took him by the feet,And threw him into a deep draw-well,That was eighteen fathoms deep.* * * * *9‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mother,The well is wondrous deep,A keen pen-knife sticks in my heart,And nae word more can I speak.’

1It rains, it rains in old Scotland,And down the rain does fa,And all the boys in our townAre out a playing at ba.

It rains, it rains in old Scotland,

And down the rain does fa,

And all the boys in our town

Are out a playing at ba.

2‘You toss your balls too high, my boys,You toss your balls too low;You’ll toss them into the Jew’s garden,Wherein you darst not go.’

‘You toss your balls too high, my boys,

You toss your balls too low;

You’ll toss them into the Jew’s garden,

Wherein you darst not go.’

3Then out came one of the Jew’s daughters,All dressed in red and green:‘Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,And get your ball again.’

Then out came one of the Jew’s daughters,

All dressed in red and green:

‘Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,

And get your ball again.’

4‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,Without my playmates all,And without the will of my mother dear,Which would cause my heart’s blood to fall.’

‘I winna come in, and I canna come in,

Without my playmates all,

And without the will of my mother dear,

Which would cause my heart’s blood to fall.’

5She shewed him an apple as green as grass,She shewed him a gay gold ring,She shewed him a cherry as red as blood,Which enticed the little boy in.

She shewed him an apple as green as grass,

She shewed him a gay gold ring,

She shewed him a cherry as red as blood,

Which enticed the little boy in.

6She took him by the lily-white hand,And led him into the hall,And laid him on a dresser-board,And that was the worst of all.

She took him by the lily-white hand,

And led him into the hall,

And laid him on a dresser-board,

And that was the worst of all.

7She laid the Bible at his head,The Prayer-Book at his feet,And with a penknife smallShe stuck him like a sheep.

She laid the Bible at his head,

The Prayer-Book at his feet,

And with a penknife small

She stuck him like a sheep.

8Six pretty maids took him by the head,And six took him by the feet,And threw him into a deep draw-well,That was eighteen fathoms deep.

Six pretty maids took him by the head,

And six took him by the feet,

And threw him into a deep draw-well,

That was eighteen fathoms deep.

* * * * *

9‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mother,The well is wondrous deep,A keen pen-knife sticks in my heart,And nae word more can I speak.’

‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mother,

The well is wondrous deep,

A keen pen-knife sticks in my heart,

And nae word more can I speak.’

Communicated by Miss Perine, of Baltimore, Maryland, as sung by her mother about 1825.

1It rains, it rains in fair Scotland,It rains both great and small. . . . . . .. . . . . . .2He tossed the hall so high, so low,He tossed the ball so low,He tossed it over the Jew’s garden-wall,Where no one dared to go.3Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,All dressed in apple-green;Said she, My dear little boy, come in,And pick up your ball again.4‘I dare not come, I will not come,I dare not come at all;For if I should, I know you wouldCause my blood to fall.’5She took him by the lily-white hand,And led him thro the kitchen;And there he saw his own dear maidA roasting of a chicken.6She put him in a little chair,And pinned him with a pin,And then she called for a wash-basin,To spill his life blood in.7‘O put the Bible at my head,And the Testament at my feet,And when my mother calls for me,You may tell her I’m gone to sleep.’

1It rains, it rains in fair Scotland,It rains both great and small. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

It rains, it rains in fair Scotland,

It rains both great and small

. . . . . . .

2He tossed the hall so high, so low,He tossed the ball so low,He tossed it over the Jew’s garden-wall,Where no one dared to go.

He tossed the hall so high, so low,

He tossed the ball so low,

He tossed it over the Jew’s garden-wall,

Where no one dared to go.

3Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,All dressed in apple-green;Said she, My dear little boy, come in,And pick up your ball again.

Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,

All dressed in apple-green;

Said she, My dear little boy, come in,

And pick up your ball again.

4‘I dare not come, I will not come,I dare not come at all;For if I should, I know you wouldCause my blood to fall.’

‘I dare not come, I will not come,

I dare not come at all;

For if I should, I know you would

Cause my blood to fall.’

5She took him by the lily-white hand,And led him thro the kitchen;And there he saw his own dear maidA roasting of a chicken.

She took him by the lily-white hand,

And led him thro the kitchen;

And there he saw his own dear maid

A roasting of a chicken.

6She put him in a little chair,And pinned him with a pin,And then she called for a wash-basin,To spill his life blood in.

She put him in a little chair,

And pinned him with a pin,

And then she called for a wash-basin,

To spill his life blood in.

7‘O put the Bible at my head,And the Testament at my feet,And when my mother calls for me,You may tell her I’m gone to sleep.’

‘O put the Bible at my head,

And the Testament at my feet,

And when my mother calls for me,

You may tell her I’m gone to sleep.’

Sir E. Brydges, Restituta, I, 381, “obtained some years since” (1814) from the recitation of an aged lady.

1It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,It rains both great and small,And all the children in merry ScotlandAre playing at the ball.2They toss the ball so high, so high,They toss the ball so low,They toss the ball in the Jew’s garden,Where the Jews are sitting a row.3Then up came one of the Jew’s daughters,Cloathed all in green:‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty Sir Hugh,And fetch thy ball again.’4‘I durst not come, I durst not go,Without my play-fellowes all;For if my mother should chance to know,She’d cause my blood to fall.’* * * * *5She laid him upon the dresser-board,And stuck him like a sheep;She laid the Bible at his head,The Testament at his feet,The Catechise-Book in his own heart’s blood,With a penknife stuck so deep.* * * * *

1It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,It rains both great and small,And all the children in merry ScotlandAre playing at the ball.

It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,

It rains both great and small,

And all the children in merry Scotland

Are playing at the ball.

2They toss the ball so high, so high,They toss the ball so low,They toss the ball in the Jew’s garden,Where the Jews are sitting a row.

They toss the ball so high, so high,

They toss the ball so low,

They toss the ball in the Jew’s garden,

Where the Jews are sitting a row.

3Then up came one of the Jew’s daughters,Cloathed all in green:‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty Sir Hugh,And fetch thy ball again.’

Then up came one of the Jew’s daughters,

Cloathed all in green:

‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty Sir Hugh,

And fetch thy ball again.’

4‘I durst not come, I durst not go,Without my play-fellowes all;For if my mother should chance to know,She’d cause my blood to fall.’

‘I durst not come, I durst not go,

Without my play-fellowes all;

For if my mother should chance to know,

She’d cause my blood to fall.’

* * * * *

5She laid him upon the dresser-board,And stuck him like a sheep;She laid the Bible at his head,The Testament at his feet,The Catechise-Book in his own heart’s blood,With a penknife stuck so deep.

She laid him upon the dresser-board,

And stuck him like a sheep;

She laid the Bible at his head,

The Testament at his feet,

The Catechise-Book in his own heart’s blood,

With a penknife stuck so deep.

* * * * *

a.Notes and Queries, First Series, XII, 496, B. H. C., from the manuscript of an old lacemaker in Northamptonshire.b.N. and Q., First Series, VIII, 614, B. H. C., from memory, stanzas 1–6.

1It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,Both little, great and small,And all the schoolfellows in merry ScotlandMust needs go play at ball.2They tossd the ball so high, so high,With that it came down so low;They tossd it over the old Jew’s gates,And broke the old Jew’s window.3The old Jew’s daughter she came out,Was clothed all in green:‘Come hither, come hither, you young Sir Hugh,And fetch your ball again.’4‘I dare not come, nor I will not come,Without my schoolfellows come all;For I shall be beaten when I go homeFor losing of my ball.’5She ‘ticed him with an apple so red,And likewise with a fig;She threw him over the dresser-board,And sticked him like a pig.6The first came out the thickest of blood,The second came out so thin,The third came out the child’s heart-blood,Where all his life lay in.7‘O spare my life! O spare my life!O spare my life!’ said he;‘If ever I live to be a young man,I’ll do as good chare for thee.’8‘I’ll do as good chare for thy true loveAs ever I did for the king;I will scour a basin as bright as silverTo let your heart-blood run in.’9When eleven o’clock was past and gone,And all the school-fellows came home,Every mother had her own childBut young Sir Hugh’s mother had none.10She went up Lincoln and down Lincoln,And all about Lincoln street,With her small wand in her right hand,Thinking of her child to meet.11She went till she came to the old Jew’s gate,She knocked with the ring;Who should be so ready as the old Jew herselfTo rise and let her in!12‘What news, fair maid? what news, fair maid?What news have you brought to me?. . . . . . .. . . . . . .13‘Have you seen any of my child today,Or any of the rest of my kin?’‘No, I’ve seen none of your child today,Nor none of the rest of your kin.’

1It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,Both little, great and small,And all the schoolfellows in merry ScotlandMust needs go play at ball.

It rains, it rains in merry Scotland,

Both little, great and small,

And all the schoolfellows in merry Scotland

Must needs go play at ball.

2They tossd the ball so high, so high,With that it came down so low;They tossd it over the old Jew’s gates,And broke the old Jew’s window.

They tossd the ball so high, so high,

With that it came down so low;

They tossd it over the old Jew’s gates,

And broke the old Jew’s window.

3The old Jew’s daughter she came out,Was clothed all in green:‘Come hither, come hither, you young Sir Hugh,And fetch your ball again.’

The old Jew’s daughter she came out,

Was clothed all in green:

‘Come hither, come hither, you young Sir Hugh,

And fetch your ball again.’

4‘I dare not come, nor I will not come,Without my schoolfellows come all;For I shall be beaten when I go homeFor losing of my ball.’

‘I dare not come, nor I will not come,

Without my schoolfellows come all;

For I shall be beaten when I go home

For losing of my ball.’

5She ‘ticed him with an apple so red,And likewise with a fig;She threw him over the dresser-board,And sticked him like a pig.

She ‘ticed him with an apple so red,

And likewise with a fig;

She threw him over the dresser-board,

And sticked him like a pig.

6The first came out the thickest of blood,The second came out so thin,The third came out the child’s heart-blood,Where all his life lay in.

The first came out the thickest of blood,

The second came out so thin,

The third came out the child’s heart-blood,

Where all his life lay in.

7‘O spare my life! O spare my life!O spare my life!’ said he;‘If ever I live to be a young man,I’ll do as good chare for thee.’

‘O spare my life! O spare my life!

O spare my life!’ said he;

‘If ever I live to be a young man,

I’ll do as good chare for thee.’

8‘I’ll do as good chare for thy true loveAs ever I did for the king;I will scour a basin as bright as silverTo let your heart-blood run in.’

‘I’ll do as good chare for thy true love

As ever I did for the king;

I will scour a basin as bright as silver

To let your heart-blood run in.’

9When eleven o’clock was past and gone,And all the school-fellows came home,Every mother had her own childBut young Sir Hugh’s mother had none.

When eleven o’clock was past and gone,

And all the school-fellows came home,

Every mother had her own child

But young Sir Hugh’s mother had none.

10She went up Lincoln and down Lincoln,And all about Lincoln street,With her small wand in her right hand,Thinking of her child to meet.

She went up Lincoln and down Lincoln,

And all about Lincoln street,

With her small wand in her right hand,

Thinking of her child to meet.

11She went till she came to the old Jew’s gate,She knocked with the ring;Who should be so ready as the old Jew herselfTo rise and let her in!

She went till she came to the old Jew’s gate,

She knocked with the ring;

Who should be so ready as the old Jew herself

To rise and let her in!

12‘What news, fair maid? what news, fair maid?What news have you brought to me?. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

‘What news, fair maid? what news, fair maid?

What news have you brought to me?

. . . . . . .

13‘Have you seen any of my child today,Or any of the rest of my kin?’‘No, I’ve seen none of your child today,Nor none of the rest of your kin.’

‘Have you seen any of my child today,

Or any of the rest of my kin?’

‘No, I’ve seen none of your child today,

Nor none of the rest of your kin.’

Notes and Queries, First Series, IX, 320; taken down by S. P. Q. from the recitation of a nurse-maid in Shropshire about 1810. Salopian Shreds and Patches, July 21, 1875, in Miss Burne’s Shropshire Folk-Lore, p. 539.

1It hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,It hails, it rains, both great and small,And all the little children in Merry-Cock landThey have need to play at ball.2They tossd the ball so high,They tossd the ball so low,Amongst all the Jews’ cattle,And amongst the Jews below.3Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressed all in green:‘Come, my sweet Saluter,And fetch the ball again.’4‘I durst not come, I must not come,Unless all my little playfellows come along;For if my mother sees me at the gate,She’ll cause my blood to fall.5‘She showd me an apple as green as grass,She showd me a gay gold ring;She showd me a cherry as red as blood,And so she entic’d me in.6‘She took me in the parlor,She took me in the kitchen,And there I saw my own dear nurse,A picking of a chicken.7‘She laid me down to sleep,With a Bible at my head and a Testament at my feet;And if my playfellows come to quere for me,Tell them I am asleep.’

1It hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,It hails, it rains, both great and small,And all the little children in Merry-Cock landThey have need to play at ball.

It hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land,

It hails, it rains, both great and small,

And all the little children in Merry-Cock land

They have need to play at ball.

2They tossd the ball so high,They tossd the ball so low,Amongst all the Jews’ cattle,And amongst the Jews below.

They tossd the ball so high,

They tossd the ball so low,

Amongst all the Jews’ cattle,

And amongst the Jews below.

3Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressed all in green:‘Come, my sweet Saluter,And fetch the ball again.’

Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,

Dressed all in green:

‘Come, my sweet Saluter,

And fetch the ball again.’

4‘I durst not come, I must not come,Unless all my little playfellows come along;For if my mother sees me at the gate,She’ll cause my blood to fall.

‘I durst not come, I must not come,

Unless all my little playfellows come along;

For if my mother sees me at the gate,

She’ll cause my blood to fall.

5‘She showd me an apple as green as grass,She showd me a gay gold ring;She showd me a cherry as red as blood,And so she entic’d me in.

‘She showd me an apple as green as grass,

She showd me a gay gold ring;

She showd me a cherry as red as blood,

And so she entic’d me in.

6‘She took me in the parlor,She took me in the kitchen,And there I saw my own dear nurse,A picking of a chicken.

‘She took me in the parlor,

She took me in the kitchen,

And there I saw my own dear nurse,

A picking of a chicken.

7‘She laid me down to sleep,With a Bible at my head and a Testament at my feet;And if my playfellows come to quere for me,Tell them I am asleep.’

‘She laid me down to sleep,

With a Bible at my head and a Testament at my feet;

And if my playfellows come to quere for me,

Tell them I am asleep.’

a.Communicated in a letter from the Rev. E. Venables, Precentor of Lincoln, as sung to him by a nurse-maid nearly sixty years ago, January 24, 1885. A Buckinghamshire version.b.A Walk through Lincoln Minster, by the Rev. E. Venables, p. 41, 1884.

1It rains, it hails in merry Lincoln,It rains both great and small,And all the boys and girls todayDo play at pat the ball.2They patted the ball so high, so high,They patted the ball so low,They patted it into the Jew’s garden,Where all the Jews do go.3Then out it spake the Jew’s daughter,As she leant over the wall;‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty play-fellow,And I’ll give you your ball.’4She tempted him [in] with apple so red,But that wouldnt tempt him in;She tempted him in with sugar so sweet,And so she got him in.5Then she put forth her lilly-white hand,And led him through the hall:‘This way, this way, my pretty play-fellow,And you shall have your ball.’6She led him on through one chamber,And so she did through nine,Until she came to her own chamber,Where she was wont to dine,And she laid him on a dressing-board,And sticket him like a swine.7Then out it came the thick, thick blood,And out it came the thin,And out it came the bonnie heart’s blood,There was no more within.

1It rains, it hails in merry Lincoln,It rains both great and small,And all the boys and girls todayDo play at pat the ball.

It rains, it hails in merry Lincoln,

It rains both great and small,

And all the boys and girls today

Do play at pat the ball.

2They patted the ball so high, so high,They patted the ball so low,They patted it into the Jew’s garden,Where all the Jews do go.

They patted the ball so high, so high,

They patted the ball so low,

They patted it into the Jew’s garden,

Where all the Jews do go.

3Then out it spake the Jew’s daughter,As she leant over the wall;‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty play-fellow,And I’ll give you your ball.’

Then out it spake the Jew’s daughter,

As she leant over the wall;

‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty play-fellow,

And I’ll give you your ball.’

4She tempted him [in] with apple so red,But that wouldnt tempt him in;She tempted him in with sugar so sweet,And so she got him in.

She tempted him [in] with apple so red,

But that wouldnt tempt him in;

She tempted him in with sugar so sweet,

And so she got him in.

5Then she put forth her lilly-white hand,And led him through the hall:‘This way, this way, my pretty play-fellow,And you shall have your ball.’

Then she put forth her lilly-white hand,

And led him through the hall:

‘This way, this way, my pretty play-fellow,

And you shall have your ball.’

6She led him on through one chamber,And so she did through nine,Until she came to her own chamber,Where she was wont to dine,And she laid him on a dressing-board,And sticket him like a swine.

She led him on through one chamber,

And so she did through nine,

Until she came to her own chamber,

Where she was wont to dine,

And she laid him on a dressing-board,

And sticket him like a swine.

7Then out it came the thick, thick blood,And out it came the thin,And out it came the bonnie heart’s blood,There was no more within.

Then out it came the thick, thick blood,

And out it came the thin,

And out it came the bonnie heart’s blood,

There was no more within.

F. H. Groome, In Gipsy Tents, 1880, p. 145: “first heard at Shepherd’s Bush, in 1872, from little Amy North.”

1Down in merry, merry ScotlandIt rained both hard and small;Two little boys went out one day,All for to play with a ball.2They tossed it up so very, very high,They tossed it down so low;They tossed it into the Jew’s garden,Where the flowers all do blow.3Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressëd in green all:‘If you come here, my fair pretty lad,You shall have your ball.’4She showed him an apple as green as grass;The next thing was a fig;The next thing a cherry as red as blood,And that would ‘tice him in.5She set him on a golden chair,And gave him sugar sweet;Laid him on some golden chest of drawers,Stabbed him like a sheep.6‘Seven foot BibleAt my head and my feet;If my mother pass by me,Pray tell her I’m asleep.’

1Down in merry, merry ScotlandIt rained both hard and small;Two little boys went out one day,All for to play with a ball.

Down in merry, merry Scotland

It rained both hard and small;

Two little boys went out one day,

All for to play with a ball.

2They tossed it up so very, very high,They tossed it down so low;They tossed it into the Jew’s garden,Where the flowers all do blow.

They tossed it up so very, very high,

They tossed it down so low;

They tossed it into the Jew’s garden,

Where the flowers all do blow.

3Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,Dressëd in green all:‘If you come here, my fair pretty lad,You shall have your ball.’

Out came one of the Jew’s daughters,

Dressëd in green all:

‘If you come here, my fair pretty lad,

You shall have your ball.’

4She showed him an apple as green as grass;The next thing was a fig;The next thing a cherry as red as blood,And that would ‘tice him in.

She showed him an apple as green as grass;

The next thing was a fig;

The next thing a cherry as red as blood,

And that would ‘tice him in.

5She set him on a golden chair,And gave him sugar sweet;Laid him on some golden chest of drawers,Stabbed him like a sheep.

She set him on a golden chair,

And gave him sugar sweet;

Laid him on some golden chest of drawers,

Stabbed him like a sheep.

6‘Seven foot BibleAt my head and my feet;If my mother pass by me,Pray tell her I’m asleep.’

‘Seven foot Bible

At my head and my feet;

If my mother pass by me,

Pray tell her I’m asleep.’

Newell’s Games and Songs of American Children, p. 75, as sung by a little girl in New York: derived, through her mother, from a grandmother born in Ireland.

1It was on a May, on a midsummer’s day,When it rained, it did rain small;And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows allWent out to play the ball.2He knocked it up, and he knocked it down,He knocked it oer and oer;The very first kick little Harry gave the ball,He broke the duke’s windows all.3She came down, the youngest duke’s daughter,She was dressed in green:‘Come back, come back, my pretty little boy,And play the ball again.’4‘I wont come back, and I daren’t come back,Without my playfellows all;And if my mother she should come in,She’d make it the bloody ball.’5She took an apple out of her pocket,And rolled it along the plain;Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple,And sorely rued the day.6She takes him by the lily-white hand,And leads him from hall to hall,Until she came to a little dark room,That no one could hear him call.7She sat herself on a golden chair,Him on another close by,And there’s where she pulled out her little penknife,That was both sharp and fine.8Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul,For his days were at an end;She stuck her penknife in little Harry’s heart,And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.9She rolled him in a quire of tin,That was in so many a fold;She rolled him from that to a little draw-well,That was fifty fathoms deep.10‘Lie there, lie there, little Harry,’ she cried,‘And God forbid you to swim,If you be a disgrace to me,Or to any of my friends.’11The day passed by, and the night came on,And every scholar was home,And every mother had her own child,But poor Harry’s mother had none.12She walked up and down the street,With a little sally rod in her hand,And God directed her to the little draw-well,That was fifty fathoms deep.13‘If you be there, little Harry,’ she said,‘And God forbid you to be,Speak one word to your own dear mother,That is looking all over for thee.’14‘This I am, dear mother,’ he cried,‘And lying in great pain,With a little penknife lying close to my heart,And the duke’s daughter she has me slain.15‘Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all,And tell them to be at the church,And make my grave both large and deep,And my coffin of hazel and green birch.16‘Put my Bible at my head,My busker (?) at my feet,My little prayer-book at my right side,And sound will be my sleep.’

1It was on a May, on a midsummer’s day,When it rained, it did rain small;And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows allWent out to play the ball.

It was on a May, on a midsummer’s day,

When it rained, it did rain small;

And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows all

Went out to play the ball.

2He knocked it up, and he knocked it down,He knocked it oer and oer;The very first kick little Harry gave the ball,He broke the duke’s windows all.

He knocked it up, and he knocked it down,

He knocked it oer and oer;

The very first kick little Harry gave the ball,

He broke the duke’s windows all.

3She came down, the youngest duke’s daughter,She was dressed in green:‘Come back, come back, my pretty little boy,And play the ball again.’

She came down, the youngest duke’s daughter,

She was dressed in green:

‘Come back, come back, my pretty little boy,

And play the ball again.’

4‘I wont come back, and I daren’t come back,Without my playfellows all;And if my mother she should come in,She’d make it the bloody ball.’

‘I wont come back, and I daren’t come back,

Without my playfellows all;

And if my mother she should come in,

She’d make it the bloody ball.’

5She took an apple out of her pocket,And rolled it along the plain;Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple,And sorely rued the day.

She took an apple out of her pocket,

And rolled it along the plain;

Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple,

And sorely rued the day.

6She takes him by the lily-white hand,And leads him from hall to hall,Until she came to a little dark room,That no one could hear him call.

She takes him by the lily-white hand,

And leads him from hall to hall,

Until she came to a little dark room,

That no one could hear him call.

7She sat herself on a golden chair,Him on another close by,And there’s where she pulled out her little penknife,That was both sharp and fine.

She sat herself on a golden chair,

Him on another close by,

And there’s where she pulled out her little penknife,

That was both sharp and fine.

8Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul,For his days were at an end;She stuck her penknife in little Harry’s heart,And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.

Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul,

For his days were at an end;

She stuck her penknife in little Harry’s heart,

And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.

9She rolled him in a quire of tin,That was in so many a fold;She rolled him from that to a little draw-well,That was fifty fathoms deep.

She rolled him in a quire of tin,

That was in so many a fold;

She rolled him from that to a little draw-well,

That was fifty fathoms deep.

10‘Lie there, lie there, little Harry,’ she cried,‘And God forbid you to swim,If you be a disgrace to me,Or to any of my friends.’

‘Lie there, lie there, little Harry,’ she cried,

‘And God forbid you to swim,

If you be a disgrace to me,

Or to any of my friends.’

11The day passed by, and the night came on,And every scholar was home,And every mother had her own child,But poor Harry’s mother had none.

The day passed by, and the night came on,

And every scholar was home,

And every mother had her own child,

But poor Harry’s mother had none.

12She walked up and down the street,With a little sally rod in her hand,And God directed her to the little draw-well,That was fifty fathoms deep.

She walked up and down the street,

With a little sally rod in her hand,

And God directed her to the little draw-well,

That was fifty fathoms deep.

13‘If you be there, little Harry,’ she said,‘And God forbid you to be,Speak one word to your own dear mother,That is looking all over for thee.’

‘If you be there, little Harry,’ she said,

‘And God forbid you to be,

Speak one word to your own dear mother,

That is looking all over for thee.’

14‘This I am, dear mother,’ he cried,‘And lying in great pain,With a little penknife lying close to my heart,And the duke’s daughter she has me slain.

‘This I am, dear mother,’ he cried,

‘And lying in great pain,

With a little penknife lying close to my heart,

And the duke’s daughter she has me slain.

15‘Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all,And tell them to be at the church,And make my grave both large and deep,And my coffin of hazel and green birch.

‘Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all,

And tell them to be at the church,

And make my grave both large and deep,

And my coffin of hazel and green birch.

16‘Put my Bible at my head,My busker (?) at my feet,My little prayer-book at my right side,And sound will be my sleep.’

‘Put my Bible at my head,

My busker (?) at my feet,

My little prayer-book at my right side,

And sound will be my sleep.’

G. A. Sala, Illustrated London News, October 21, 1882, LXXXI, 415, repeated in Living London, 1883, p. 465: heard from a nurse in childhood.

1It rains, it rains, in merry Scotland,It rains both great and small,And all the children in merry ScotlandMust needs play at ball.2They toss the ball so high,And they toss the ball so low;They toss it into the Jew’s garden,Where the Jews sate all of a row.3. . . . . . .A-dressëd all in green:‘Come in, come in, my pretty lad,And you shall have your ball again.’4‘They set me in a chair of state,And gave me sugar sweet;They laid me on a dresser-board,And stuck me like a sheep.5‘Oh lay a Bible at my head,And a Prayer-Book at my feet!In the well that they did throw me in,Full five-and-fifty feet deep.’

1It rains, it rains, in merry Scotland,It rains both great and small,And all the children in merry ScotlandMust needs play at ball.

It rains, it rains, in merry Scotland,

It rains both great and small,

And all the children in merry Scotland

Must needs play at ball.

2They toss the ball so high,And they toss the ball so low;They toss it into the Jew’s garden,Where the Jews sate all of a row.

They toss the ball so high,

And they toss the ball so low;

They toss it into the Jew’s garden,

Where the Jews sate all of a row.

3. . . . . . .A-dressëd all in green:‘Come in, come in, my pretty lad,And you shall have your ball again.’

. . . . . . .

A-dressëd all in green:

‘Come in, come in, my pretty lad,

And you shall have your ball again.’

4‘They set me in a chair of state,And gave me sugar sweet;They laid me on a dresser-board,And stuck me like a sheep.

‘They set me in a chair of state,

And gave me sugar sweet;

They laid me on a dresser-board,

And stuck me like a sheep.

5‘Oh lay a Bible at my head,And a Prayer-Book at my feet!In the well that they did throw me in,Full five-and-fifty feet deep.’

‘Oh lay a Bible at my head,

And a Prayer-Book at my feet!

In the well that they did throw me in,

Full five-and-fifty feet deep.’

Halliwell, Ballads and Poems respecting Hugh of Lincoln, p. 37, Halliwell’s Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales, p. 192, ed. 1849: communicated by Miss Agnes Strickland, from oral tradition at Godalming, Surrey.

1He tossed the ball so high, so high,He tossed the ball so low,He tossed the ball in the Jew’s garden,And the Jews were all below.2Oh then out came the Jew’s daughter,She was dressed all in green:‘Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow,And fetch your ball again.’

1He tossed the ball so high, so high,He tossed the ball so low,He tossed the ball in the Jew’s garden,And the Jews were all below.

He tossed the ball so high, so high,

He tossed the ball so low,

He tossed the ball in the Jew’s garden,

And the Jews were all below.

2Oh then out came the Jew’s daughter,She was dressed all in green:‘Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow,And fetch your ball again.’

Oh then out came the Jew’s daughter,

She was dressed all in green:

‘Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow,

And fetch your ball again.’

Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 54, as sung by Widow Michael, an old woman in Barhead.

1A’ the bairns o LincolnshireWere learning at the school,And every Saturday at eenThey learnt their lessons weel.2The Jew’s dochter sat in her bower-door,Sewing at her seam;She spied a’the bonnie bairns,As they cam out and hame.

1A’ the bairns o LincolnshireWere learning at the school,And every Saturday at eenThey learnt their lessons weel.

A’ the bairns o Lincolnshire

Were learning at the school,

And every Saturday at een

They learnt their lessons weel.

2The Jew’s dochter sat in her bower-door,Sewing at her seam;She spied a’the bonnie bairns,As they cam out and hame.

The Jew’s dochter sat in her bower-door,

Sewing at her seam;

She spied a’the bonnie bairns,

As they cam out and hame.

Motherwell’s Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xvii, VII.

It was in the middle o the midsimmer tyme,When the scule weans playd at the ba, ba,Out and cam the Jew’s tochter,And on little Sir Hew did ca, ca,And on little Sir Hew did ca.

It was in the middle o the midsimmer tyme,

When the scule weans playd at the ba, ba,

Out and cam the Jew’s tochter,

And on little Sir Hew did ca, ca,

And on little Sir Hew did ca.

Initialquhis changed towh: z,forȝ,toy.

“‘The Jew’s Daughter,’ which you say was transmitted to Mr Dodsley by a friend of yours, never reached me, and Mr Dodsley says he knows nothing of it. I wish you would prevail on your friend to try to recollect or recover it, and send me another copy by you.”Percy to Paton, Jan. 12, 1769. The copy in the Percy papers is in Paton’s hand.

14.First written: The fairest o them a’.

74.First written: The flower amang them a’.

104. bells were,in the second copy.

92. a swan.

Hume says, p. 5, that he first heard the ballad in early boyhood; “it was afterwards readily identified with Sir Hugh of Lincoln, though the rustic minstrel from whom I received it made no allusion to locality.”One cannot tell whether this copy is the ballad heard in early boyhood.

141. “This and the next verse are transposed.”Hume.

G. a.

24. darest.

12. doth fall.

13. When all.

14. Were out a playing ball.

21. We toss the balls so.

22. We toss the balls so.

23. We’ve tossed it.

24. Where no one dares to.

31. out and came the Jew’s daughter.

33. Said, Come.

41. will not come in, I cannot.

42. playfellows.

43. NorforAnd.

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