Baby's Trotting Song

[Daintily]     Come, see how the ladies ride,     All so pretty, all so gay,     In their beauty, in their pride,     Down Broadway;     Prancing horses silver shod,     All so pretty, all so gay;     Princely feathers bend and nod,     Down Broadway.     [Roughly]     Jiggety-jog, jiggety-jog,     Over the mountain, through the bog--     That's the way the farmers go,     Hear the news and see the show;     Pumpkins round strapped on behind,     Eggs in baskets, too, you'll find,     Soon to change for calico--     That's the way the farmers go.     [Tea-Bell Accompaniment]     Bells a-jingle, fingers tingle,     Ditto toes, likewise nose.     The wind doth blow,     And all the snow     Around doth scatter;     Our teeth they chatter,     But that's no matter--     The song rings clear     With a Happy New Year,     And never a mutter,     As we fly in our cutter.     [Trot to Boston]     Jingle, jar, horse car,     Leave you near, or take you far.     Take a seat upon my lap,     Cling on, swing on by the strap;     Here a stop, and there a start--     Let me off, I'll take a cart!     [Boisterously]     Sword and pistols by their side,     And that's the way the officers ride!     Boots stretched out like a letter V,     we belong to the cavalry!     Over the hurdles after the hounds,     tirra-la! the hunting-horn sounds--     Dashaway, slashaway, reckless and fast!     Crashaway, smashaway, tumbled at last!