Four ducks on a pond,
A grass-bank beyond,
A blue sky of spring,
White clouds on the wing;
What a little thing
To remember for years-
To remember with tears!

Swing, swing Sing, sing,
Here! my throne and I am a king!
Far, far, Over the bar,
Sweeping daisies with my toe.
Slow, slow, To and fro,
.Swing, swing.Sing, sing,
Farewell, earth for I'm on the wing!
Low, high, Here I fly,
Like a bird through sunny sky;
Free, free, Over the lea,
Over the mountain, over the sea!
Soon, soon, Afternoon,
Over the sunsunset, over the moon;

Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting for fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk, trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap, and white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore some make their home,

They live on crispy pancakes of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds o Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs, all night awake.
High on the hill-top

The old King sits; he is now so old and gray
He's nigh lost his wits.With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses, on his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses; or going up with music

On cold starry nights, 'to sup with the Queen
Of the gay Northern Lights. They stole little Bridget
For seven years long; when she came down again
Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow, they thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow. They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake, on a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wake. By the craggy hill-side,

Through the mosses bare,
they have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there. Is any man so daring
As dig them up in spite, he shall find their sharpest thorns in his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting for fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk, trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap, and white owl's feather!

A Jelly Baby walks into a bar and starts talking to a Smartie. After a few beers the Smartie says, "Ere, a bunch of us are heading to that new club, fancy tagging along?"

The Jelly Baby says, "No mate, I'm a soft centre, I always end up getting my head kicked in."

So Smartie says, "Don't worry about it, I'm a bit of a hard case, I'll look after you."

Jelly Baby thinks about it for a minute and says, "Fair enough, as long as you'll look after me", and off they go.

After a few more beers in the club, three Lockets walk in. As soon as he sees them, Smartie hides under the table.

The Lockets take one look at Jelly Baby and start kicking him, breaking cola bottles over his little jelly head, lamping him with little sugary chairs, and generally having a laugh. After a while they get bored and walk out.

Jelly Baby pulls his battered Jelly Baby body over to the table and wipes up his Jelly Baby blood and turns to Smartie and says, "I thought you were going to look after me."

I was!" says Smartie,

"But those Lockets are  ment(h)al

I Had a Cat