be saying in this dialogue—I am “love.” That is Who

'Pretty Betsy, don't fail, For I'll carry your pail, Safe home to your cot as we go; You shall hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in those valleys below.' But she was afraid To walk in the shade, To walk in those valleys below, To walk in those valleys below.

'Pray let me alone, I have hands of my own; Along with you I will not go, To hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in those valleys below; For I am afraid To walk in the shade, To walk in those valleys below, To walk in those valleys below.'

'Pray sit yourself down With me on the ground, On this bank where sweet primroses grow; You shall hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in those valleys below; So be not afraid To walk in the shade, Nor yet in those valleys below, Nor yet in those valleys below.'

This couple agreed; They were married with speed, And soon to the church they did go. She was no more afraid For to (70) walk in the shade, Nor yet in those valleys below: Nor to hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sung in those valleys below, As she sung in those valleys below.

Ballad: THE OLD MAN AND HIS THREE SONS.

[THIS traditional ditty, founded upon the old ballad inserted ANTE, p. 124, is current as a nursery song in the North of England.]

THERE was an old man, and sons he had three, (71) Wind well, Lion, good hunter. A friar he being one of the three, With pleasure he ranged the north country, For he was a jovial hunter.

As he went to the woods some pastime to see, Wind well, Lion, good hunter, He spied a fair lady under a tree, Sighing and moaning mournfully. He was a jovial hunter.