Part 3
[Illustration: Figs. 6 though 11.]
And then there is the play of "Two men sawing wood--one little boy picking up chips." (Fig. 6) The two finger men are moved up and down and the little boy finger works busily.
Everybody knows the rhyming finger-play:
"Here's my Father's knives and forks, (Fig. 7) "Here's my Mother's table, (Fig. 8) "Here's my Sister's looking-glass, (Fig. 9) "And here's the baby's cradle." (Fig. 10)
Another play is a little act in which three persons are supposed to take part, and it has come down from the old times of long ago.
The middle finger is the Friar. Those on each side of him touch each other and make the door, the little finger is the Lady and the thumb is the Page. (Fig. 11)
The Friar knocks at the door.
_Friar._ "Knock, Knock, Knock!"
_Page._ "Somebody knocks at the door! Somebody knocks at the door!"
_Lady._ "Who is it? Who is it?"
_Page._ (Going to door) "Who is it? Who is it?"
_Friar._ "A Friar, a Friar."
_Page._ "A Friar, Ma'am, a Friar, Ma'am."
_Lady._ "What does he want? What does he want?"
_Page._ "What do you want, Sir? What do you want, Sir?"
_Friar._ "I want to come in. I want to come in."
_Page._ "He wants to come in, Ma'am. He wants to come in."
_Lady._ "Let him walk in. Let him walk in."
_Page._ "Will you walk in, Sir? Will you walk in?"
So in he pops and takes a seat.
When each player is supposed to speak he or she must move gently, bending forward and back and when the Friar is invited to enter, the door must open only just far enough to let him "pop in."
These are only some of the plays with which the baby I knew used to be amused; but they will suggest others to parents and older brothers and sisters. The baby cannot make all of these things himself but he will be quite as much interested when they are made by older hands.
MONDAY
Here's a little wash bench, Here's a little tub. Here's a little scrubbing-board, And here's the way to rub. Here's a little cake of soap, Here's a dipper new. Here's a basket wide & deep, And here are clothes-pins two. Here's the line away up high, Here's the clothes all flying. Here's the sun so warm & bright, And now the washing's drying. Edith Goodyear.
Finger Play.
By Edith Goodyear.
The little space 'twixt fingers & thumbs Is round as a circle you see! While in there, a tiny square Shows corners four to me.
Circles are like daisies while, Like pennies, candies and plates, Like Grandma's cookies and pumpkin pies; And best of all, the pretty blue In Baby's laughing eyes.
The square makes me think of the rug where he sits On the nursery floor at play; Of the lawn where he rolls in the sunshine bright, And the dainty spread that covers his bed When he's fast asleep at night.
COUNTING THE FINGERS
This is the thumb, you see; This finger shakes the tree; And then this finger comes up; And this one eats the plums up; This little one, says he, "I'll tell of you, you'll see!"
That one is the thumb; And this one wants a plum; This one says, "Where do they grow?" This one says, "Come with me--I know." But this little one, he says, "I will not go near the place! I don't like such naughty ways."
Now, I think that through and through Little Finger's right--don't you?
This one fell in the water, And this one helped him ashore, And this one put him into bed, And this one covered him o'er; And then, in walks this noisy little chap, And wakes him up once more.
This one walked out into the wood, And caught a little hare; And this one took and carried it home, For he thought it dainty fare; And this one came and cooked it up With sauces rich and rare; And this one laid the table out, And did the plates prepare; And this little fellow the keeper told What the others were doing there.
AN OLD NORSE FINGER PLAY
Thicken man, build the barn, Thinner man, spool the yarn, Longen man, stir the brew, Gowden man, make a shoe, Littlen man, all for you!
BABY'S TOES
Dear little bare feet, Dimpled and white, In your long nightgown Wrapped for the night.
Come, let me count all Your queer little toes, Pink as the heart Of a shell or a rose.
One is a lady That sits in the sun; Two is a baby, And three is a nun.
Four is a lily With innocent breast; And five is a birdie Asleep on her nest.
"BABY'S TOES"
BY EDITH A. BENTLEY
Five little piggie wiggies Standing in a row, We always have to toddle Where the baby wants to go; Up-stairs and down-stairs, Indoors and out, We're always close together And we never fall out.
_Chorus:_ Father-Pig and Mother-Pig, And Big-Brother Pig, And Sister-Pig, and darling little Baby Piggie-Wig!
Oh, sometimes we are all tied up In a bag so tight. This is when the baby goes "To sleepy-bye" at night. Then there's nothing else to do But cuddle down and rest-- Just as little birdies cuddle In their little nest.
_Chorus:_ Father-Pig and Mother-Pig And Big-Brother Pig, And Sister-Pig, and darling little Baby Piggie-Wig!
THIS IS THE WAY MY FINGERS STAND
_To the tune of "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush."_
This is the way my fingers stand, Fingers stand, fingers stand, This is the way my fingers stand, So early in the morning.
This is the way I fold my hand, Fold my hand, fold my hand, This is the way I fold my hand, So early in the morning.
This is the way they dance about, Dance about, dance about, This is the way they dance about, So early in the morning.
This is the way they go to rest, Go to rest, go to rest, This is the way they go to rest, So early in the morning.
THUMBKIN, POINTER
Thumbkin, Pointer, Middleman big, Sillyman, Weeman, rig-a-jig-jig.
NAMING THE FINGERS[A]
BY LAURA E. RICHARDS
This is little Tommy Thumb, Round and smooth as any plum. This is busy Peter Pointer: Surely he's a double-jointer. This is mighty Toby Tall, He's the biggest one of all. This is dainty Reuben Ring: He's too fine for anything. And this little wee one, maybe, Is the pretty Finger-baby.
All the five we've counted now, Busy fingers in a row. Every finger knows the way How to work and how to play; Yet together work they best, Each one helping all the rest.
[A] _From "Songs and Music of Froebel's Mother Play"; used by permission of the publishers, D. Appleton & Company._
ROBERT BARNS
Robert Barns, fellow fine, Can you shoe this horse of mine, So that I may cut a shine? Yes, good sir, and that I can, As well as any other man; There a nail, and here a prod, And now, good sir, your horse is shod.
"SHALL I, OH! SHALL I?"
A little boy and a little girl Lived in an alley; Said the little boy to the little girl, "Shall I, oh! shall I?"
Said the little girl to the little boy, "What will you do?" Said the little boy to the little girl, "I will kiss you."
(_As the last words are sung, the mother kisses the little one in the folds of the neck._)
[Illustration: OFF WITH MOTHER GOOSE FROM A DRAWING BY MABEL LUCIE ATTWELL]
JACK, BE NIMBLE
Jack, be nimble, Jack, be quick; (_Jack is one hand walking along on its fore- and middle-fingers._)
Jack, jump over The candlestick. (_Fist closed; uplifted thumb for candle. Jack jumps over it._)
TWO LITTLE HANDS
Two little hands so soft and white, This is the left--this is the right. Five little fingers stand on each, So I can hold a plum or a peach. But if I should grow as old as you Lots of little things these hands can do.
PAT A CAKE
Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man. So I do, master, as fast as I can. Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T, And then it will serve for Tommy and me.
CLAP YOUR HANDS
Baby, Baby, clap your hands! Where London's built, there London stands. And there's a bed in London Town, On which my Baby shall lie down.
THE BIRD'S NEST
_A Froebel Finger Play_
Here upon the leaves at rest A little bird has built her nest. Two tiny eggs within she's laid, And many days beside them stayed. Now she's happy; listen well! Two baby birds break through the shell. Don't you hear them? "Peep! peep! peep! We love you, mother. Cheep! cheep! cheep!"
TWO LITTLE BLACKBIRDS
There were two blackbirds sitting on a hill, (_Little pieces of paper perched on forefingers._) One named Jack, the other named Jill. Fly away, Jack; fly away, Jill. (_Fingers soar gently in the air._) Come again, Jack; come again, Jill. (_Fingers fly back._)
MASTER SMITH
Is Master Smith within? Yes, that he is. Can he set a shoe? Ay, marry, two. Here a nail, and there a nail, Tick--tack--too.
LITTLE ROBIN REDBREAST
Little Robin Redbreast Sat upon a rail, (_Right hand extended in shape of a bird is poised on extended forefinger of left hand._) Niddle noddle went his head, And waggle went his tail. (_Little finger of right hand waggles from side to side._)
GREETING
Good little Mother, How do you do? Dear strong "Daddy," Glad to see you! Big tall Brother, Pleased you are here. Kind little Sister, You need not fear, Glad welcome we'll give you, And Babykins, too. Yes, Babykins, How do you do?
A PLAY FOR THE ARMS
Pump, pump, pump, Water, water, come; Here a rush, there a gush, Done, done, done.
THE LITTLE WINDOW
_A Froebel Finger Play_
Look, my dear, at this window clear. See how the light shines through in here. If you would always see the light, Keep your heart's window clean and bright.
SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE
Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four-and-twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie; When the pie was opened The birds began to sing; Was not that a dainty dish To set before the King?
The King was in his counting-house, Counting out his money; The Queen was in the parlor, Eating bread and honey; The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes; When up came a blackbird And nipped off her nose. (_At this line somebody's nose gets nipped._)
THE PIGEON HOUSE
_A Froebel Finger Play_
Now I'm going to open my pigeon-house door. The pigeons fly out to the light, Straight to the meadows so pleasant they soar, And flutter about with delight. But at evening they'll all come home at last, And the door of the house I'll then shut fast.
SAID THIS LITTLE FAIRY
Said this little fairy, "I'm as thirsty as can be." Said this little fairy, "I'm hungry, too, dear me!" Said this little fairy, "Who'll tell us where to go?" Said this little fairy, "I'm sure that I don't know." Said this little fairy, "Let's brew some dewdrop tea." So they sipped it and ate honey beneath the maple tree.
A BURROWING GAME
See the little mousie, creeping up the stair, Looking for a warm nest--there, oh, there! (_Mother's fingers creep up the body, and finally fumble in baby's neck._)
PAT A CAKE
_A Froebel Finger Play_
Baby, would you like to make For yourself a little cake? Pat it gently, smooth it down. Baker says: "Now, in to brown; Bring it here, baby dear, While the oven fire burns clear." "Baker, see, here is my cake; Bake it well for baby's sake." "In the oven, right deep down, Here the cake will soon get brown."
A KNEE GAME
What do I see? Baby's knee. Tickily, tickily, tic, tac, tee. One for a penny, two for a pound; Tickily, tickily, round and round.
A FOOT PLAY
Up, down--up, down. One foot up and one foot down, All the way to London town. Tra la la la la la.
PUTTING THE FINGERS TO SLEEP
My fingers are so sleepy It's time they went to bed, So first, you Baby Finger Tuck in your Little Head.
Ringman, come now its your turn, And then come, Tallman Great; Now, Pointer Finger, hurry Because its getting late.
Let's see if all are snuggled. No, here's one more to come, So come, lie close, little brothers, Make room for Master Thumb.
TEN LITTLE SQUIRRELS
Ten little squirrels up in a tree-- (_Ten fingers outspread._)
The first two said: "What do I see?" (_Thumbs only._)
The next two said: "A man with a gun." (_Forefingers only._)
The next two said: "Let's run, let's run." (_Middle fingers only._)
The next two said: "Let's hide in the shade." (_Ring fingers only._)
The last two said: "We're not afraid." (_Little fingers only._)
Bang! went a gun. (_Clap hands._)
Away they all run. (_All fingers scamper off._)
MY LITTLE GARDEN
See my little garden, How I rake it over, Then I sow the little brown seeds, And with soft earth cover. Now the raindrops patter On the earth so gayly; See the big round sun smile On my garden daily. The little plant is waking; Down the roots grow creeping; Up now come the leaflets Through the brown earth peeping. Soon the buds will laugh up Toward the springtime showers; Soon my buds will open Into happy flowers.
THE FAMILY[B]
BY EMILIE POULSSON
This is the mother, so busy at home, Who loves her dear children, whatever may come.
This is the father, so brave and so strong, Who works for his family all the day long.
This is the brother, who'll soon be a man, He helps his good mother as much as he can.
This is the sister, so gentle and mild, Who plays that the dolly is her little child.
This is the baby, all dimpled and sweet, How soft his wee hands and his chubby pink feet!
Father, and mother, and children so dear, Together you see them, one family here.
[B] From "Songs and Music of Froebel's Mother Play"; used by permission of the publishers, D. Appleton & Co.
[Illustration: IN DREAMLAND]
JOHNNY SHALL HAVE A NEW BONNET
Johnny shall have a new bonnet, And Johnny shall go to the fair, And Johnny shall have a new ribbon To tie up his bonny brown hair.
And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me? And why may not I love Johnny? As well as another body?
And here's a leg for a stocking, And here is a foot for a shoe, And he has a kiss for his daddy, And two for his mammy, I trow.
And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me? And why may not I love Johnny As well as another body?
#RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE#
TO MARKET RIDE THE GENTLEMEN
To market ride the gentlemen, So do we, so do we; Then comes the country clown, Hobbledy gee, Hobbledy gee; First go the ladies, nim, nim, nim, Next come the gentlemen, trim, trim, trim; Then come the country clowns, gallop-a-trot.
HERE GOES MY LORD
Here goes my lord-- A trot! a trot! a trot! a trot! Here goes my lady-- A canter! a canter! a canter! a canter! Here goes my young master-- Jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! Here goes my young miss-- An amble! an amble! an amble! an amble! The footman lags behind, And goes gallop, a gallop, a gallop, to make up his time.
A FARMER WENT TROTTING
A farmer went trotting upon his gray mare; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! With his daughter behind him, so rosy and fair; Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
A raven cried croak! and they all tumbled down; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! The mare broke her knees, and the farmer his crown; Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
The mischievous raven flew laughing away; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! And vowed he would serve them the same the next day; Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
UP TO THE CEILING
Up to the ceiling, down to the ground, Backward and forward, round and round; Dance, little baby, and mother will sing, With the merry chorus, ding, ding, ding!
THE MESSENGER
Here in the morning we're starting so soon, Give us a message, we'll ride to the moon, Straight through the meadows and hop o'er the stile, And we will but charge you a farthing a mile. A farthing a mile! a farthing a mile! We will but charge you a farthing a mile.
CATCH HIM, CROW
Catch him, crow! Carry him, kite! Take him away till the apples are ripe; When they are ripe and ready to fall, Home comes [Johnny], apples and all.
RIDE A COCK-HORSE
Ride a Cock-Horse to Charing Cross, To see a Young Lady jump on a White Horse, With Rings on her Fingers, and Bells on her Toes, She shall have Music wherever she goes.
THIS IS THE WAY
This is the way the ladies ride, Nin! Nin! Nin! This is the way the gentlemen ride, Trot! Trot! Trot! This is the way the farmers ride, Jogglety! Jogglety! Jogglety! Jog!
RIDE AWAY, RIDE AWAY
Ride away, ride away, Johnny shall ride, And he shall have pussy-cat Tied to one side; And he shall have little dog Tied to the other, And Johnny shall ride To see his grandmother.
TO MARKET, TO MARKET
To market, to market, To buy a plum bun; Home again, home again, My journey is done.
TROT, TROT, THE BABY GOES
BY MARY F. BUTTS
Every evening Baby goes Trot, trot, to town-- Across the river, through the fields, Up hill and down.
Trot, trot, the Baby goes, Up hill and down, To buy a feather for her hat, To buy a woolen gown.
Trot, trot, the Baby goes; The birds fly down, alack! "You cannot have our feathers, dear," They say; "so please trot back."
Trot, trot, the Baby goes; The lambs come bleating near. "You cannot have our wool," they say; "But we are sorry, dear."
Trot, trot, the Baby goes, Trot, trot, to town. She buys a red rose for her hat, She buys a cotton gown.
RIDE A COCK-HORSE
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury-cross, To see what Tommy can buy; A penny white loaf, a penny white cake, And a two-penny apple pie.
* * *
Ride a cock-horse to Shrewsbury-cross, To buy little Johnny a galloping horse; It trots behind and it ambles before, And Johnny shall ride till he can ride no more.
Here we go UP, UP, UP! Here we DOWN, DOWN, DOWN! Here we go BACKWARDS and FORWARDS! And here we go AROUND AND AROUND!
#MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES#
WHO ARE THESE?
HERE ARE ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX STORY-BOOK PICTURES. ALL LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS KNOW THE SIX STORIES THAT THESE SIX PICTURES BELONG TO. TELL YOUR MAMA AND PAPA WHAT THE STORIES ARE.
[Illustration: THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN FROM A DRAWING BY ANNE ANDERSON ]
I SAW A SHIP A-SAILING
I saw a ship a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea; And, oh! it was all laden With pretty things for thee!
There were candies in the cabin, And apples in the hold; The sails were made of silk, And the masts were made of gold.
The four-and-twenty sailors That stood between the decks, Were four-and-twenty white mice, With chains about their necks.
The captain was a duck, With a packet on his back; And when the ship began to move, The captain cried, "Quack, quack!"
GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER
Goosey, goosey, gander, where dost thou wander? Up stairs and down stairs, and in my lady's chamber; There I met an old man that would not say his prayers, I took him by his hind legs and threw him down stairs.
THE WIND
Arthur O'Bower has broken his band, He comes roaring up the land-- A King of Scots, with all his power, Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower.
ONCE I SAW A LITTLE BIRD
Once I saw a little bird Come hop, hop, hop, So I said, "Little bird, Will you stop, stop, stop?"
I was going to the window To say, "How do you do?" But he shook his little tail And far away he flew.
RING-A-RING-A-ROSES
Ring-a-ring-a-roses, A pocket full of posies; Hush! hush! hush! hush! We're all tumbled down.
CROSS PATCH
Cross patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin;
Take a cup, And drink it up, And call your neighbors in.
HAPPY LET US BE
Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring; Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free, And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!
Merry have we met, and merry have we been; Merry let us part, and merry meet again; With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free, And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!
THE OLD WOMAN IN THE BASKET
There was an old woman tossed up in a basket, Nineteen times as high as the moon; Where she was going I couldn't but ask it For in her hand she carried a broom.
"Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I, O whither, O whither, O whither so high?" "To brush the cobwebs off the sky!" "Shall I go with thee?" "Aye, by-and-by."
[Illustration: _From a Drawing by Arthur Rackham_ "Where she was going I couldn't but ask it, For in her hand she carried a broom."]
THE FOX AND THE OLD GRAY GOOSE
The fox and his wife they had a great strife, They never ate mustard in all their whole life; They ate their meat without fork or knife, And loved to be picking a bone, e-ho!
The fox jumped up on a moonlight night, The stars they were shining, and all things bright. Oh, ho! said the fox, it's a very fine night For me to go through the town, e-ho!
The fox when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his lugs and he listened awhile; Oh, ho, said the fox, it's but a short mile From this unto yonder wee town, e-ho!
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 bone, e-ho!
The gray 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 unto yonder wee town e-ho!
Old Gammer Hipple-hopple hopped out of bed, She opened the casement, and popped out her head. Oh! husband, oh! husband, the gray goose is dead, And the fox is gone through the town, 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, e-oh!
When he got to the top of the hill, He blew his trumpet both loud and shrill, For joy that he was safe Through the town, e-oh!
When the fox came back to his den, He had young ones, both nine and ten. "You're welcome home, daddy; you may go again, If you bring us such nice meat from the town, e-oh!"
[Illustration: JACK FELL DOWN ...]
JACK AND JILL
Jack and Jill went up the hill, To draw a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.