Apples... Peaches... Cherries A peddler once was driving by His cart with fruit was laden high And as he drove along he'd cry Across the village green His daughter sat beside him there And she was young and she was fair A glowing with a beauty rare A maid of sweet sixteen Crying: apples and peaches and cherries We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries A young lad followed them to his door He bought some fruit and then bought more His lonely eyes were begging for The lovely maid to stay The young maid blushed to see him stare His eyes went wandering everywhere Until the peddler's cart was bare And they drove on their way Crying: apples and peaches and cherries We got no more apples no more peaches or cherries Next day in vain he waited long To hear the same familiar song The fruit was ripe the girls were all The lovely maid passed by He sought and found her in the mart He wooed and won that maiden's heart And now ten children ride the cart And there'll be many more Screaming, yelling out: apples and peaches and cherries We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries Now if there is a moral here Such fruitfulness will make it clear Shut your window when you hear A peddler at your door He'll be crying: apples and peaches and cherries We got a lot of apples and peaches and cherries Apples... Peaches... and Cherries