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3o THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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You watch your cattle the summer day, Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay; How should you like to roll in your carriage And look for a duchess's daughter in marriage ? Seize the shoemaker, so you may ! " Big boots a-hunting, Sandals in the hall, White for a wedding-feast,
And pink for a ball: This way, that way,
So we make a shoe, Getting rich every stitch, Tick-tack-too ! " Nine-and-ninety treasure crocks,
This keen miser-fairy hath, Hid in mountain, wood, and rocks, Ruin and round-tower, cave and rath, And where the cormorants build; From times of old
Guarded by him; Each of them filled Full to the brim With gold !
I caught him at work one day myself,
In the castle-ditch where the/oxglove grows; A wrinkled, wizened, and bearded elf, Spectacles stuck on the top of his nose, Silver buckles to his hose, Leather apron, shoe in his lap; " Rip-rap, tip-tap, Tick-tack-too ! A grig stepped upon my cap, Away the moth flew. |
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