Part 9

"It was my good fortune," says Dr. Wagstaffe, "some time ago, to have the library of a schoolboy committed to my charge, where, among other undiscovered valuable authors, I pitched upon Tom Thumb and Tom Hickathrift, authors indeed more proper to adorn the shelves of Bodley or the Vatican, than to be confined to the retirement and obscurity of a private study. I have perused the first of these with an infinite pleasure, and a more than ordinary application, and have made some observations on it, which may not, I hope, prove unacceptable to the public, and however it may have been ridiculed and looked upon as an entertainment only for children and those of younger years, may be found perhaps a performance not unworthy the perusal of the judicious, and the model superior to either of those incomparable poems of Chevy Chase or the Children in the Wood. The design was undoubtedly to recommend virtue, and to show that however any one may labour under the disadvantages of stature and deformity, or the meanness of parentage, yet if his mind and actions are above the ordinary level, those very disadvantages that seem to depress him add a lustre to his character."—_A Comment upon the History of Tom Thumb_, 1711, p. 4.]

In the merry days of good King Arthur, there lived in one of the counties of England a ploughman and his wife. They were poor, but as the husband was a strong workman, and his partner an able assistant in all matters pertaining to the farmhouse, the dairy, and poultry, they managed to make a very good living, and would have been contented and happy, had Nature blessed them with any offspring. But although they had been married several years, no olive branch had yet appeared, and the worthy couple sadly lamented their hard lot.

There lived at this period, at the court of Arthur, a celebrated conjuror and magician, whose name was Merlin, the astonishment of the whole world, for he knew the past, present, and future, and nothing appeared impossible to him. Persons of all classes solicited his assistance and advice, and he was perfectly accessible to the humblest applicant. Aware of this, the ploughman, after a long consultation with his "better half," determined to consult him, and, for this purpose, travelled to the court, and, with tears in his eyes, beseeched Merlin that he might have a child, "even though it should be no bigger than his thumb."

Now Merlin had a strange knack of taking people exactly at their words, and without waiting for any more explicit declaration of the ploughman's wishes, at once granted his request. What was the poor countryman's astonishment to find, when he reached home, that his wife had given birth to a gentleman so diminutive, that it required a strong exercise of the vision to see him. His growth was equally wonderful, for—

In four minutes he grew so fast, That he became as tall As was the ploughman's thumb in length, And so she did him call.

The christening of this little fellow was a matter of much ceremony, for the fairy queen, attended by all her company of elves, was present at the rite, and he formally received the name of Tom Thumb. Her majesty and attendants attired him with their choicest weeds, and his costume is worth a brief notice. His hat was made of a beautiful oak leaf; his shirt was composed of a fine spider's web, and his hose and doublet of thistle-down. His stockings were made with the rind of a delicate green apple, and the garters were two of the finest little hairs one can imagine, plucked from his mother's eyebrows. Shoes made of the skin of a little mouse, "and tanned most curiously," completed his fairy-like accoutrement.

It may easily be imagined that Tom was an object of astonishment and ridicule amongst the other children of the village, but they soon discovered that, notwithstanding his diminutive size, he was more than a match for them. It was a matter of very little consequence to Tom whether he lost or won, for if he found his stock of counters or cherrystones run low, he soon crept into the pockets of his companions, and replenished his store. It happened, on one occasion, that he was detected, and the aggrieved party punished Tom by shutting him up in a pin-box. The fairy boy was sadly annoyed at his imprisonment, but the next day he amply revenged himself; for hanging a row of glasses on a sunbeam, his companions thought they would follow his example, and, not possessing Tom's fairy gifts, broke the glasses, and were severely whipped, whilst the little imp was overjoyed at their misfortune, standing by, and laughing till the tears run down his face.

The boys were so irritated with the trick that had been played upon them, that Tom's mother was afraid to trust him any longer in their company. She accordingly kept him at home, and made him assist her in any light work suitable for so small a child. One day, while she was making a batter-pudding, Tom stood on the edge of the bowl, with a lighted candle in his hand, so that she might see it was properly made. Unfortunately, however, when her back was turned, Tom accidentally fell in the bowl, and his mother not missing him, stirred him up in the pudding "instead of minced fat," and put the pudding in the kettle with Tom in it. The poor woman paid dearly for her mistake, for Tom had no sooner felt the warm water, than he danced about like mad, and the pudding jumped about till she was nearly frightened out of her wits, and was glad to give it to a tinker who happened to be passing that way. He was thankful for a present so acceptable, and anticipated the pleasure of eating a better dinner than he had enjoyed for many a long day. But his joy was of short duration, for as he was getting over a stile, he happened to sneeze very hard, and Tom, who had hitherto remained silent, cried out, "Hollo, Pickens!" which so terrified the tinker, that he threw the pudding into the field, and scampered away as fast as ever he could go. The pudding tumbled to pieces with the fall, and Tom, creeping out, went home to his mother, who had been in great affliction on account of his absence.

A few days after this adventure, Tom accompanied his mother when she went into the fields to milk the cows, and for fear he should be blown away by the wind, she tied him to a thistle with a small piece of thread. While in this position, a cow came by, and swallowed him up:

But, being missed, his mother went, Calling him everywhere: Where art thou, Tom? where art thou, Tom? Quoth he, Here, mother, here!

Within the red cow's stomach, here Your son is swallowed up; All which within her fearful heart Much woful dolour put.

The cow, however, was soon tired of her subject, for Tom kicked and scratched till the poor animal was nearly mad, and at length tumbled him out of her mouth, when he was caught by his mother, and carried safely home.

A succession of untoward accidents followed. One day, Tom's father took him to the fields a-ploughing, and gave him "a whip made of a barley straw" to drive the oxen with, but the dwarf was soon lost in a furrow. While he was there, a great raven came and carried him an immense distance to the top of a giant's castle. The giant soon swallowed him up, but he made such a disturbance when he got inside, that the monster was soon glad to get rid of him, and threw the mischievous little imp full three miles into the sea. But he was not drowned, for he had scarcely reached the water before he was swallowed by a huge fish, which was shortly after captured, and sent to King Arthur by the fisherman for a new-year's gift. Tom was now discovered, and at once adopted by the king as his dwarf;

Long time he liv'd in jollity, Belov'd of the court, And none like Tom was so esteem'd Amongst the better sort.

The queen was delighted with the little dwarf, and made him dance a galliard on her left hand. His performance was so satisfactory, that King Arthur gave him a ring which he wore about his middle like a girdle; and he literally "crept up the royal sleeve," requesting leave to visit his parents, and take them as much money as he could carry:

And so away goes lusty Tom With threepence at his back, A heavy burthen, which did make His very bones to crack.

Tom remained three days with the old couple, and feasted upon a hazel-nut so extravagantly that he grew ill. His indisposition was not of long continuance, and Arthur was so anxious for the return of his dwarf, that his mother took a birding-trunk, and blew him to the court. He was received by the king with every demonstration of affection and delight, and tournaments were immediately proclaimed:

Thus he at tilt and tournament Was entertained so, That all the rest of Arthur's knights Did him much pleasure show.

And good Sir Launcelot du Lake, Sir Tristram and Sir Guy, Yet none compar'd to brave Tom Thumb In acts of chivalry.

Tom, however, paid dearly for his victories, for the exertions he made upon this celebrated occasion threw him into an illness which ultimately occasioned his death. But the hero was carried away by his godmother, the fairy queen, into the land of Faerie, and after the lapse of two centuries, he was suffered to return to earth, and again amuse men by his comical adventures. On one occasion, after his return from fairy-land, he jumped down a miller's throat, and played all manner of pranks on the poor fellow, telling him of all his misdeeds, for millers in former days were the greatest rogues, as everybody knows, that ever lived. A short time afterwards, Tom a second time is swallowed by a fish, which is caught, and set for sale at the town of Rye, where a steward haggles for it,—

Amongst the rest the steward came, Who would the salmon buy, And other fish that he did name, But he would not comply.

The steward said, You are so stout, If so, I'll not buy any. So then bespoke Tom Thumb aloud, "Sir, give the other penny!"

At this they began to stare, To hear this sudden joke: Nay, some were frighted to the heart, And thought the dead fish spoke.

So the steward made no more ado, But bid a penny more; Because, he said, I never heard A fish to speak before.

The remainder of the history, which details Tom's adventures with the queen, his coach drawn by six beautiful white mice, his escaping on the back of a butterfly, and his death in a spider's web, is undoubtedly a later addition to the original, and may therefore be omitted in this analysis. It is, in fact, a very poor imitation of the first part of the tale.

III.—GAME-RHYMES.

The most obvious method of arranging the rhymes employed in the amusements of children is to commence with the simple lines used by the nurse in the infantine toe, finger, and face-games, then proceeding to bo-peep, and concluding with the more complicated games, many of the latter possessing a dramatic character.

TOE-GAMES

Harry Whistle, Tommy Thistle, Harry Whible, Tommy Thible, And little Oker-bell.

A game with the five toes, each toe being touched in succession as these names are cried. "This song affords a proof of the connexion between the English and Scandinavian rhymes. The last line, as it now stands, appears to mean nothing. The word _oker_, however, is the A.-S. æcer, Icel. akr, Dan. ager, and Swed. åker, pronounced _oker_, a field, and the flower is the field-bell."—Mr. Stephens's MS. The following lines are also used in a play with the toes:

Shoe the colt, shoe! Shoe the wild mare! Put a sack on her back, See if she'll bear. If she'll bear, We'll give her some grains; If she won't bear, We'll dash out her brains.

There are many various versions of this song in English, and it also exists in Danish (Thiele, iii. 133).

Skoe min best! Hvem kan bedst? Det kan vor Præst! Nei mæn kan ban ej! For det kan vor smed, Som boer ved Leed.

Shoe my horse! Who can best? Why, our priest! Not he, indeed! But our smith can, He lives at Leed.

Perhaps, however, this will be considered more like the common rhyme, "Robert Barnes, Fellow fine," printed in the 'Nursery Rhymes of England,' p. 166. An analogous verse is found in the nursery anthology of Berlin (Kuhn, Kinderlieder, 229), and in that of Sweden (Lilja, p. 14),—

Sko, sko min lille häst, I morgon frosten blir' vår gäst, Då bli' hästskorna dyra, Två styfver för fyra.

Shoe, shoe my little horse, To-morrow it will be frosty: Then will horse-shoes be dear, Two will cost a stiver.

English nurses use the following lines, when a child's shoe is tight, and they pat the foot to induce him to allow it to be tried on:

Cobbler, cobbler, mend my shoe, Give it a stitch and that will do. Here's a nail, and there's a prod, And now my shoe is well shod.

Or, occasionally, these lines,—

This pig went to market, Squeak, mouse, mouse, mousey; Shoe, shoe, shoe the wild colt, And here's my own doll dowsy.

The following lines are said by the nurse when moving the child's foot up and down,—

The dog of the kill,[35] He went to the mill To lick mill-dust: The miller he came With a stick on his back,— Home, dog, home! The foot behind, The foot before: When he came to a style, Thus he jumped o'er.

[Footnote 35: A north-country term for _kiln_.]

THE FIVE FINGERS.

I do not recollect to have seen anywhere noticed the somewhat singular fact, that our ancestors had distinct names for each of the five fingers—the thumb being generally called a finger in old works. Yet such was the case; and it may not displease the reader to have these cognominations duly set forth in order, viz. _thumb_, _toucher_, _longman_, _leche-man_, _little-man_. This information is derived from a very curious MS. quoted in my Dictionary of Archaisms, p. 357; and the reasons for the names are thus set forth:—The first finger was called _toucher_ because "therewith men touch i-wis;" the second finger _longman_, "for longest finger it is," (this, I beg to say, is intended for rhyme). The third finger was called _leche-man_, because a leche or doctor tasted everything by means of it. This is very curious; though we find elsewhere another reason for this appellation, on account of the pulsation in it, which was at one time supposed to communicate directly with the heart. The other finger was, of course, called _littleman_ because it was the least of all. It is rather curious that some of these names should have survived the wrecks of time, and be still preserved in a nursery-rhyme; yet such is the fact; for one thus commences, the fingers being kept in corresponding movements:

Dance, thumbkin, dance, Dance, thumbkin, dance; Dance, ye merry men all around: But thumbkin he can dance alone; But thumbkin he can dance alone.

Dance, foreman, dance, Dance foreman, dance; Dance, ye merry men all around: But thumbkin he can dance alone; But thumbkin he can dance alone.

And so on, substituting in succession _middleone_, _longman_, or _middleman_, _ringman_, and _littleman_, and each verse terminating with "thumbkin he can dance alone." In some instances the original name for the third finger, _lecheman_, is preserved in the rhyme, but _ringman_ is most generally adopted.

It is worthy of remark too, that there is, even at the present day, amongst many of the old women of the Peak of Derbyshire, a strong belief in the superiority of _lecheman_ over _foreman_ in all matters of taste. They say that the forefinger is _venomous_, and that the superiority of the third is to be ascribed to its being possessed of a _nerve_; and as they appear to pay a most superstitious reverence to a nerve, whether in the finger, the tooth, or the ear, they do not fail to impress upon their daughters the importance of tasting anything of consequence with the third finger.

The names given to the fingers vary considerably in the different counties. In Essex they call them

Tom Thumbkin, Bess Bumpkin, Bill Wilkin, Long Linkin, And little Dick!

And in some parts of Yorkshire,

Tom Thumbkins, Bill Wilkins, Long Daniel, Bessy Bobtail, And little Dick.

Similar appellations for the fingers are common in Denmark. Thus, Thiele, iii. 136,—

Tommeltot, Slikkepot, Langemand, Guldbrand, Lille Peer Spilleman.

"Little Peer Spilleman" is "little Peter the fiddler," not a bad name for the little finger. A slight variation of this is current in Sweden,—

Tomme tott, Slicke pott; Långe man, Hjertlig hand; Lille, lille, lille, gullvive!

The following song for the four fingers is obtained from Lancashire:

This broke the barn, This stole the corn, This got none: This went pinky-winky All the way home!

FACE-SONGS.

Bo Peeper, Nose dreeper, Chin chopper, White lopper, Red rag, And little gap.

These lines are said to a very young child, touching successively for each line the eye, nose, chin, tooth, tongue, and mouth. Sometimes the following version is used:

Brow brinky, Eye winky, Chin choppy, Nose noppy, Cheek cherry, Mouth merry.

The most pleasing amusement of this kind is the game of "face-tapping," the nurse tapping each feature as she sings these lines,—

Here sits the lord mayor (_forehead_), Here sit his two men (_eyes_); Here sits the cock (_right cheek_), Here sits the hen (_left cheek_). Here sit the little chickens (_tip of nose_), Here they run in (_mouth_); Chinchopper, chinchopper, Chinchopper, chin (_chucking the chin_)!

Similar songs are common in the North of Europe. A Danish one is given by Thiele, iii. 130:

Pandebeen, Oisteen, Næsebeen, Mundelip, Hagetip, Dikke, dikke, dik.

Brow-bone, Eye-stone, Nose-bone, Mouth-lip, Chin-tip, Dikke, dikke, dik!

The nurse, while repeating the last line, tickles the child under the chin. A German version, now common at Berlin, is printed by M. Kuhn, in his article on Kinderlieder, p. 237:

Kinnewippchen, Rothlippchen, Nasendrippchen, Augenthränechen, Ziep ziep Maränechen.

The following lines are repeated by the nurse when sliding her hand down the child's face:

My mother and your mother Went over the way; Said my mother to your mother, It's chop-a-nose day!

KNEE-SONGS.

This is the way the ladies ride; Tri, tre, tre, tree, Tri, tre, tre, tree! This is the way the ladies ride, Tri, tre, tre, tri-tre-tre-tree!

This is the way the gentlemen ride; Gallop-a-trot, Gallop-a-trot! This is the way the gentlemen ride, Gallop-a gallop-a-trot!

This is the way the farmers ride, Hobbledy-hoy, Hobbledy-hoy! This is the way the farmers ride, Hobbledy hobbledy-hoy!

This is a famous song for a young child, the nurse dancing it on her knee, and gradually increasing the ascent of the foot. Similar songs, but differing considerably from the above, are given in the Swedish nursery ballads of Arwidsson, iii. 489-91; the Danish of Thiele, iii. 130-2, iv. 176-7; and the German Wunderhorn, iii. 60-1. The following pretty Swedish version is given from Mr. Stephens's MS. collections:

Hvem är det som rider? Det är en fröken som rider: Det går i sakta traf, I sakta traf!

Hvem är det som rider? Det är en Herre som rider: Det går jo i galopp, I galopp!

Hvem är det som rider? Det är en Bonde som rider: Det går så lunka på, Lunka på!

And pray, who now is riding? A lady it is that's riding: And she goes with a gentle trot, A gentle trot!

And pray, who now is riding? A gentleman it is that's riding: And he goes with a gallop-away, A gallop-away!

And pray, who now is riding? A farmer it is that's riding: And he goes with a jog along, A jog along!

There are a great number of English variations of the above song, differing very materially from one another. A second version may be worth giving:

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 to tipple ale and wine, And goes gallop, a gallop, a gallop, to make up his time.

Here are other knee-songs:

Little Shon a Morgan, Shentleman of Wales, Came riding on a nanny-goat, Selling of pigs' tails.

Chicky, cuckoo, my little duck, See-saw, sickna downy; Gallop a trot, trot, trot, And hey for Dublin towny!

BO-PEEP.

The children's game of bo-peep is as old as the hills, hiding from each other, and saying,—

Bo-Peep, Little Bo-Peep: Now's the time for hide and seek.

But in ancient times the amusement appears to have been even of a simpler character, and adopted by nurses before children are capable of seeking recreation for themselves. Sherwood describes bo-peep as a child's game, in which the nurse conceals the head of the infant for an instant, and then removes the covering quickly. The Italians say _far bau bau_, or _baco, baco_, which Douce thinks is sufficient to show a connexion between the nurse's _boggle_ or _buggy-bo_, and the present expression. Shakespeare has condescended to notice the game, unless, indeed, we suppose the term to have passed into a proverb. The reader will recollect what Butler says of Sir Edward Kelly, the celebrated conjuror,—

Kelly did all his feats upon The devil's looking-glass, a stone: Where, _playing with him at bo-peep_, He solv'd all problems ne'er so deep.

The term bo-peep appears to have been connected at a very early period with sheep. Thus in an old ballad of the time of Queen Elizabeth, in a MS. in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge,—

Halfe Englande ys nowght now but shepe, In everye corner they playe boe-pepe; Lorde, them confownde by twentye and ten, And fyll their places with Cristen men.

And every one is acquainted with the nursery rhyme which details the adventures of 'Little Bo-peep,'—

Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them: Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.

Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating: But when she awoke, she found it a joke, For they were still all fleeting.

Minsheu gives us a funny derivation of the word, which he says is no other than the noise which chickens make when they come out of the shell! I regret I have nothing better, certainly nothing so ingenious, to offer to my philological readers. Letting that pass, I take the opportunity of giving an anecdote respecting Ben Jonson and Randolph, which affords another illustration of the analogy above mentioned. It is taken from a manuscript of the seventeenth century, in the possession of Mr. Stephens of Stockholm, who considers the volume to have been transcribed before the year 1650.