The fox went out, one still, clear night, And he prayed the moon to give him light, For he’d a long way to travel that night, Before he got back to his den-o! The fox when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his lugs and he listened a while! “Oh, ho!” said the fox, “it’s but a short mile From this unto yonder wee town, e-ho!” And first he arrived at a farmer’s yard, Where the ducks and the geese declared it was hard, That their nerves should be shaken and their rest should be marred By the visits of Mister Fox-o! The fox when he came to the farmer’s gate, Who should he see but the farmer’s drake; “I love you well for your master’s sake, And long to be picking your bones, e-ho!” The grey goose she ran round the hay-stack, “Oh, ho!” said the fox, “you are very fat; You’ll grease my beard and ride on my back From this into yonder wee town, e-ho!” Then he took the grey goose by her sleeve, And said: “Madam Grey Goose, by your leave I’ll take you away without reprieve, And carry you back to my den-o!” And he seized the black duck by the neck, And slung him all across his back, The black duck cried out “quack, quack, quack,” With his legs all dangling down-o! Old Mother Wiggle-Waggle hopped out of bed, Out of the window she popped her old head; “Oh! husband, oh! husband, the grey goose is gone, And the fox is off to his den, oh!” Then the old man got up in his red cap, And swore he would catch the fox in a trap; But the fox was too cunning, and gave him the slip, And ran through the town, the town, oh! When he got to the top of the hill, He blew his trumpet both loud and shrill, For joy that he was safe and sound Through the town, oh! But at last he arrived at his home again, To his dear little foxes, eight, nine, ten, Says he “You’re in luck, here’s a fine fat duck With his legs all dangling down-o!” So he sat down together with his hungry wife, And they did very well without fork or knife, They never ate a better duck in all their life, And the little ones picked the bones-o! 
“And the little ones picked the bones-o!” Well, there was once a gentleman who had fine lands and houses, and he very much wanted to have a son to be heir to them. So when his wife brought him a daughter, bonny as bonny could be, he cared nought for her, and said, “Let me never see her face.”
So she grew up a bonny girl, though her father never set eyes on her till she was fifteen years old and was ready to be married. But her father said, “Let her marry the first that comes for her.” And when this was known, who should be first but a nasty rough old man. So she didn’t know what to do, and went to the henwife and asked her advice. The henwife said, “Say you will not take him unless they give you a coat of silver cloth.” Well, they gave her a coat of silver cloth, but she wouldn’t take him for all that, but went again to the henwife, who said, “Say you will not take him unless they give you a coat of beaten gold.” Well, they gave her a coat of beaten gold, but still she would not take him, but went to the henwife, who said, “Say you will not take him unless they give you a coat made of the feathers of all the birds of the air.” So they sent a man with a great heap of pease; and the man cried to all the birds of the air, “Each bird take a pea, and put down a feather.” So each bird took a pea and put down one of its feathers: and they took all the feathers and made a coat of them and gave it to her; but still she would not, but asked the henwife once again, who said, “Say they must first make you a coat of
