A BUNDLE OF TRUTHS Barney Bodkin broke his nose, Want of money makes us sad, Without feet we can’t have toes, Crazy folks are always mad; A farthing rush light’s very small, Doctors wear large bushy wigs, One that's dumb can never bawl, Pickled pork is made of pigs. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding’s not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor’s goose can never fly. Patriots say they’ll mend the nation, Pigeons will make pretty pies, Lawyers deal in botheration, A gun's too big for shooting flies; Irish whiskey’s very good, Lundy Foot will make you sneeze, A barber's block is made of wood, Pepper’s good with buttered peas. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding’s not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor’s goose can never fly. Times will grow better, never fear, Old maids in scandal take delight, Candles now are very dear, Roguery will come to light; Chicken gloves a’n’t made for pigs, Very seldom asses die, Plum-pudding should be stuffed with figs, The Monument is very high. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding’s not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor’s goose can never fly. Puppet-shows young folks amuse, Christmas comes but once a year, Wooden legs wear out no shoes, Sixpence is a quart of beer, We shall all live till we die, Barney, leave the girls alone, Catsup's not good with apple-pie, Churchwardens’ hearts are made of stone. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding’s not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor’s goose can never fly. Garters keep the stockings up, All bakers are not honest men, When a dog's young he's called a pup, The cock is tougher than the hen; Frenchmen can run very well, Turtle-soup is very nice, Courtiers a fat lie can tell, Toasted cheese is bait for mice. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding’s not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor’s goose can never fly. Tailors cabbage all your cloth, Shins of beef are very tough, Flummery is just like froth, Lawyers all are up to snuff; Jolly tars are fond of fun, “God save the king," we'll nobly shout; And now, good folks, my song is done, Nobody knows what ’twas about. Right fol de riddle del, A yard of pudding’s not an ell, Not forgetting didderum hi, A tailor’s goose can never fly. (Alternative title: "A TAILOR'S GOOSE CAN NEVER FLY")