III

      There was a naughty boy

      And a naughty boy was he,

      He kept little fishes

      In washing tubs three

      In spite

      Of the might

      Of the maid

      Nor afraid

      Of his Granny-good-

      He often would

      Hurly burly

      Get up early

      And go

      By hook or crook

      To the brook

      And bring home

      Miller's thumb,

      Tittlebat

      Not over fat,

      Minnows small

      As the stall

      Of a glove,

      Not above

      The size

      Of a nice

      Little baby's

      Little fingers-

      O he made

      'Twas his trade

      Of fish a pretty kettle

      A kettle-

      A kettle

      Of fish a pretty kettle

      A kettle!