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Old Mother HubbardWent to the cupboardTo get her poor Dog a bone;But when she came thereThe cupboard was bare,And so the poor Dog had none.
She went to the baker’sTo buy him some bread,But when she came back,The poor Dog was dead.
She went to the joiner’sTo buy him a coffin,But when she came back,The poor Dog was laughing.
She took a clean dishTo get him some tripe,But when she came back,He was smoking a pipe.
She went to the ale-houseTo get him some beer,But when she came back,The Dog sat in a chair.
She went to the tavernFor white wine and red,But when she came back,The Dog stood on his head.
She went to the hatter’s,To buy him a hat,But when she came back,He was feeding the cat.
She went to the barber’sTo buy him a wig,But when she came back,He was dancing a jig.
She went to the fruiterer’sTo buy him some fruit,But when she came back,He was playing the flute.
She went to the tailor’sTo buy him a coat,But when she came back,He was riding a goat.
She went to the cobbler’sTo buy him some shoes,But when she came back,He was reading the news.
She went to the sempstressTo buy him some linen,But when she came back,The Dog was a-spinning.
She went to the hosier’sTo buy him some hose,But when she came back,He was drest in his clothes.
The Dame made a curtsey,The Dog made a bow;The Dame said, “Your servant,”The Dog said, “Bow wow!”
This wonderful DogWas Dame Hubbard’s delight,He could sing, he could dance.He could read, he could write.
She gave him rich daintiesWhenever he fed,And erected a monumentWhen he was dead.
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