THE
        ADVENTURES
          OF THE
       LITTLE WOMAN,
  HER DOG AND THE PEDLAR.


MARKS'S EDITION.


[Illustration]


LONDON
Printed and Published by S. MARKS and SONS.
72, Houndsditch, Bishopsgate Street.




THE
ADVENTURES
OF THE
LITTLE WOMAN,
HER DOG AND THE PEDLAR.


[Illustration]

    There was a little woman,
    As I have heard tell,
    She went to market,
    Her Eggs for to sell.

[Illustration]

    She went to Market,
    All on a Market day,
    And she fell asleep,
    On the King's highway.

[Illustration]

    By came a Pedlar,
    His name it was Stout,
    And he cut her petticoats,
    All round about.

[Illustration]

    He cut her Petticoats
    Up to her knees,
    Which made the little woman
    Began for to freeze.

[Illustration]

    When this little woman,
    Began to awake,
    She began to shiver,
    And she began to shake.

[Illustration]

    She began to shake,
    And she began to cry,
    "Goodness mercy on me,
    Sure this is not I!"

[Illustration]

    "But if this be I,
    As I hope it be,
    I have a little dog at home,
    And he will know me."

[Illustration]

    "And if this be I,
    He will wag his tail,
    But if it's not I,
    He will bark and wail."

[Illustration]

    When this little woman,
    Came home in the dark,
    Up starts the little dog,
    And began for to bark.

[Illustration]

    He began to bark,
    And she began to cry,
    "Goodness mercy on me,
    'Tis surely not I!"

[Illustration]

    The dog ceased to bark,
    The woman then did cry;
    "Goodness mercy on me,
    Now I know this is I!"




POETRY.


[Illustration]

LOVE BETWEEN BROTHERS AND SISTERS

    1.

    What-ev-er brawls dis-turb the street,
      There should be peace at home:
    Where sis-ters dwell, and bro-thers meet
      Quar-rels should nev-er come.


    2.

    Birds in their lit-tle nests a-gree;
      And 'tis a shame-ful sight
    When chil-dren of one fam-i-ly
      Fall out, and chide, and fight.


    3.

    The wise will make their an-ger cool,
      At least be-fore 'tis night;
    But in the bo-som of a fool
      It burns till morn-ing light.


    4.

    Par-don, O Lord, our child-ish rage,
      Our lit-tle brawls re-move,
    That, as we grow to ri-per age,
      Our hearts may all be love.




Transcriber's Note

Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without note.







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