I'm not going to even pretend: this rhyme isn't Southern.
Heck, it isn't even American. She dates way back to 1820 in England, but that doesn't mean that my momma didn't read it to us most nights when we were young. You see, she had four boys who were always getting into snakes or dogs (or snips, if we could even figure out what those were) or poison ivy, and while she loved the stuffing out of us, I know she was hoping that one day maybe she would have a child of the fairer sex. Well, I don't know if it was the reading or the praying or whatever else, but after having only boys for eleven years, my mom finally had a little girl.
One made of everything nice.