One misty moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather, I met a withered old man a-clothed all in leather, he was clothed all in leather with a cap beneath his chin, singing, how d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again. This rustic was a treasure as on his way he hide, and with a leather bottle fast buckled by his side. He wore no shirt upon his back with wool unto his skin, singing, how d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again.
