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A History of the Cries of London by Hindley

Illustration Crumpling Codlings


style="text-align: justify;"> Who's there? A Grenadier! What do you want? A pot of beer. Where's your money? Oh, I forgot, Then get you gone, you drunken sot.


Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down comes the baby, cradle and all.


There was an old woman that lived in a shoe, She had so many children she knew not what to do; She gave them some broth without any bread, Then she beat them all well, and sent them to bed.


My mother and your mother Went over the way; Said my mother to your mother, It's chop-a-nose day!

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.




Here's round and sound, Black and white heart cherries, Two-pence a pound.



Here's oranges nice, At a very small price, I sell them all two for a penny. Ripe, juicy, and sweet,

Just fit for to eat, So customers buy a good many.


_Milk below._

Rain, frost, or snow, or hot or cold, I travel up and down, The cream and milk you buy of me Is best in all the town. For custards, puddings, or for tea, There's none like those you buy of me.


_Crumpling Codlings._

Come buy my Crumpling Codlings, Buy all my Crumplings. Some of them you may eat raw, Of the rest make dumplings, Or pies, or puddings, which you please.



Come buy my filberts ripe and brown, They are the best in all the town, I sell them for a groat a pound, And warrant them all good and sound, You're welcome for to crack and try, They are so good, I'm sure you'll buy.


_Clothes Pegs, Props, or Lines._

Come, maids, and buy my pegs and props, Or lines to dry your clothes, And when they are dry they'll smell as sweet As any damask rose. Come buy and save your clothes from dirt, They'll save you washing many a shirt.



Sweep, chimney sweep, Is the common cry I keep, If you rightly understand me; With my brush, broom, and my rake, Such cleanly work I make, There's few can go beyond me.


_Peas and Beans._

Four pence a peck, green Hastings! And fine garden beans. They are all morning gathered, Come hither, my queens. Come buy my Windsor beans and peas, You'll see no more this year like these.

_Young Lambs to Sell._

Get ready your money and come to me, I sell a young lamb for a penny. Young lambs to sell! young lambs to sell! If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry young lambs to sell.

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