Chestnuts raw and boil'd and roasted,
Apples sliced and onions toasted,
Music in the corner posted,
Waiting for the cue.
What do you think was the tune they danced to?
"The drunken Sailor"--sometimes "Jim Crow,"
Tails in the way--and some got pinched, too,
'Cause they were too long.
What do you think they had for a fiddle?
An old Banjo with a hole in the middle,
A Tambourine made out of a riddle,
And that's the end of my song.
_Anonymous_.
MR. FINNEY'S TURNIP
Mr. Finney had a turnip
And it grew and it grew,
And it grew behind the barn,
And that turnip did no harm.
There it grew and it grew
Till it could grow no longer;
Then his daughter Lizzie picked it
And put it in the cellar.
There it lay and it lay
Till it began to rot;
And his daughter Susie took it
And put it in the pot.
And they boiled it and boiled it
As long as they were able,
And then his daughters took it
And put it on the table.
Mr. Finney and his wife
They sat down to sup;
And they ate and they ate
And they ate that turnip up.
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