Part 3
My little old man and I fell out, I'll tell you what 'twas all about; I had money and he had none, And that's the way the noise begun.
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Little Tommy Tittlemouse Lived in a little house; He caught fishes In other men's ditches.
The winds they did blow, The leaves they did wag; Along came a beggar boy, And put me in his bag--
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He took me up to London, A lady did me buy-- Put me in a silver cage And hung me up on high--
With apples by the fire, And nuts for to crack, Besides a little feather-bed, To rest my little back.
There was a little green house, And in the little green house There was a little brown house, And in the little brown house There was a little yellow house, And in the little yellow house There was a little white house, And in the little white house There was a little heart. [A Walnut]
Cry, baby, cry, Put your finger in your eye, And tell your mother it wasn't I.
Willy boy, Willy boy, Where are you going? I will go with you, if I may. I am going to the meadows, To see them mowing, I am going to see them make hay.
A hill full--a hole full, Yet you cannot catch a bowl full. [Mist]
If ifs and ands Were pots and pans, There would be no need for tinkers!
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_Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after_]
Jack and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.
Up Jack got and home did trot, As fast as he could caper; Dame Jill had the job to plaster his knob, With vinegar and brown paper.
There was a little one-eyed gunner, Who kill'd all the birds that died last summer.
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1. I am a gold lock. 2. I am a gold key. 1. I am a silver lock. 2. I am a silver key. 1. I am a brass lock. 2. I am a brass key. 1. I am a lead lock. 2. I am a lead key. 1. I am a monk lock. 2. I am a monk key.
There was an old woman of Leeds, Who spent all her time in good deeds; She worked for the poor Till her fingers were sore, This pious old woman of Leeds!
Margery Mutton-pie and Johnny Bopeep, They met together in Gracechurch-Street; In and out, in and out, over the way, Oh! says Johnny, 'tis chop-nose day.
What is the rhyme for porringer? The King he had a daughter fair. And gave the Prince of Orange her.
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See a pin and pick it up, All the day you'll have good luck. See a pin and let it lay, Bad luck you'll have all the day.
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; All the rest have thirty-one-- Except February, alone, Which has four and twenty-four, And every fourth year, one day more.
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Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, And Jack jump over the candlestick.
I had a little pony I call'd him Dapple Gray, I lent him to a lady To ride a mile away. She whipped him, she slashed him, She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my pony now, For all the lady's hire.
I went to the wood and got it; I sat me down and looked at it; The more I looked at it the less I liked it, And I brought it home because I couldn't help it. [A Thorn]
Darby and Joan were dress'd in black, Sword and buckle behind their back; Foot for foot, and knee for knee, Turn about Darby's company.
There dwelt an old woman at Exeter; When visitors came it sore vexed her; So for fear they should eat, She locked up all her meat, This stingy old woman of Exeter.
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Mary had a pretty bird,-- Feathers bright and yellow; Slender legs, upon my word, He was a pretty fellow-- The sweetest notes he always sung, Which much delighted Mary; And near the cage she'd ever sit, To hear her own canary.
Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home! Your house is on fire, your children all gone, All but one, and her name is Ann, And she crept under the pudding pan.
Awake, arise, pull out your eyes, And hear what time of day; And when you have done, Pull out your tongue, And see what you can say.
There was an old woman of Harrow, Who visited in a wheelbarrow; And her servant before, Knocked loud at each door, To announce the old woman of Harrow.
[Illustration:
_There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children, she didn't know what to do_]
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children, she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth, without any bread, She whipped them all around, and sent them to bed.
Pussy Cat Mole, Jump'd over a Coal, And in her best petticoat burnt a great hole. Poor pussy's weeping, she'll have no more milk Until her best petticoat's mended with silk.
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Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, To see a fine lady upon a white horse; With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, She shall have music wherever she goes.
I do not like thee, Dr. Fell, The reason why I cannot tell; But this I know, and know full well, I do not like thee, Dr. Fell.
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Cross Patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, And call your neighbors in.
Charley Warley had a cow, Black and white about the brow, Open the gate and let her through, Charley Warley's old cow!
Doctor Faustus was a good man, He whipped his scholars now and then; When he whipped them he made them dance Out of Scotland into France, Out of France into Spain, And then he whipped them back again!
Riddle-me riddle-me riddle-me-ree, Perhaps you can tell what this riddle may be: As deep as a house, as round as a cup, And all the king's horses can't draw it up. [A Well]
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The man in the wilderness asked me, How many strawberries grew in the sea? I answered him, As I thought good, As many as red herrings Grew in the wood.
Miss Jane had a bag, and a mouse was in it, She opened the bag, he was out in a minute. The cat saw him jump, and run under the table, And the dog said, Catch him, puss, soon as you're able.
The Man in the Moon looked out of the moon, Looked out of the moon and said, "'Tis time for all children on the earth To think about getting to bed!"
A riddle, a riddle, as I suppose, A hundred eyes, and never a nose. [A cinder-sifter]
Butterfly, butterfly, whence do you come? I know not, I ask not, I never had home. Butterfly, butterfly, where do you go? Where the sun shines, and where the buds grow.
"Robert Barnes, fellow fine, Can you shoe this horse of mine?" "Yes, good sir, that I can, As well as any other man: Here a nail, and there a prod, And now, good sir, your horse is shod."
Tommy Trot, a man of laws, Sold his bed and lay upon straws; Sold the straw, and slept on grass, To buy his wife a looking-glass.
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Hickety, pickety, my black hen, She lays good eggs for gentlemen; Gentlemen come every day, To see what my black hen doth lay.
One for the money, Two for the show, Three to make ready, And four to go.
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There's a neat little clock, In the schoolroom it stands, And it points to the time With its two little hands.
And may we, like the clock, Keep a face clean and bright, With hands ever ready To do what is right.
Jack Spratt could eat no fat, His wife could eat no lean, And so, betwixt them both, you see, They licked the platter clean. MORAL: Better to go to bed supperless than to rise in debt.
A long-tailed pig, or a short-tailed pig, Or a pig without e'er a tail, A sow-pig, or a boar-pig, Or a pig with a curly tail. MORAL: Take hold of his tail, And eat off his head, And then you will be sure The pig-hog is dead.
When I was a bachelor, I lived by myself, And all the bread and cheese I got I put upon a shelf; The rats and the mice did lead me such a life, That I went to market, to get myself a wife.
The streets were so broad, and the lanes were so narrow, I could not get my wife home without a wheel-barrow: The wheel-barrow broke, my wife got a fall, Down tumbled wheel-barrow, little wife, and all. MORAL: Provide against the world, and hope for the best.
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Little Tommy Tucker, Sings for his supper; What shall he eat? White bread and butter. How shall he cut it Without e'er a knife? How will he be married Without e'er a wife?
Tell-tale tit! Your tongue shall be slit, And all the dogs in the town Shall have a little bit.
Little Jack Horner Sat in a corner, Eating a Christmas pie; He put in his thumb, And pulled out a plum, And said, "What a good boy am I!"
Heigh, diddle, diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed To see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon.
Robin and Richard were two pretty men; They lay in bed till the clock struck ten; Then up starts Robin, and looks in the sky, Oh! brother Richard, the sun's very high!
See, saw, Margery Daw, Jacky shall have a new master; Jacky must have but a penny a day, Because he can't work any faster.
Great A, little a, Bouncing B! The cat's in the cupboard, And can't see me.
Three children sliding on the ice Upon a summer's day, As it fell out, they all fell in-- The rest they ran away.
Now had these children been at home, Or sliding on dry ground, Ten thousand pounds to one penny, They had not all been drown'd.
Ye parents who have children dear, And eke ye that have none, If you would keep them safe abroad, Pray keep them safe at home.
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Ding, dong, bell, The cat is in the well! Who put her in? Little Johnny Green; What a naughty boy was that To try to drown poor pussy cat, Who never did any harm, And killed the mice in his father's barn. MORAL: He that injures one threatens a hundred.
Cock a doodle doo! My dame has lost her shoe; My master's lost his fiddling stick, And don't know what to do.
[The following is a game played as follows: A string of boys and girls, each holding by his predecessor's skirts, approaches two others, who with joined and elevated hands form a double arch. After the dialogue, the line passes through, and the last is caught by a sudden lowering of the arm--if possible.]
How many miles is it to Babylon? Threescore miles and ten. Can I get there by candle-light? Yes, and back again! If your heels are nimble and light, You may get there by candle-light.
Now go to sleep, my little son, Or I shall have to spank you; How do you do? says uncle John-- I'm pretty well, I thank you.
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Dance to your daddy, My little babby; Dance to your daddy, My little lamb.
You shall have a fishy In a little dishy; You shall have a fishy When the boat comes in.
A sunshine shower Won't last half an hour. As the day lengthens, So the cold strengthens. The fishes' cry Is never long dry.
Hickery, dickery, 6 and 7, Alabone, crackabone, 10 and 11; Spin, spun, muskidem, Twiddle 'em, twaddle 'em, 21.
If all the seas were one sea, What a _great_ sea that would be! And if all the trees were one tree, What a _great_ tree that would be! And if all the axes were one axe, What a _great_ axe that would be! And if all the men were one man, What a _great_ man he would be! And if the _great_ man took the _great_ axe, And cut down the _great_ tree, And let it fall into the _great_ sea, What a splish, splash _that_ would be!
Hark! hark! the dogs do bark, The beggars have come to town; Some in rags, and some in tags, And some in velvet gowns.
For every evil under the sun, There is a remedy, or there is none. If there be one, try and find it, If there be none, never mind it.
As I was going up and down, I met a little dandy, He pulled my nose, and with two blows I knocked him down quite handy.
I bought a dozen new-laid eggs, Of good old farmer Dickens; I hobbled home upon two legs, And found them full of chickens.
Swan, swam over the sea; Swim, swan, swim, Swan, swam back again; Well, swum, swan.
Bossy-cow, bossy-cow, where do you lie? In the green meadow under the sky.
Billy-horse, billy-horse, where do you lie? Out in the stable with nobody nigh.
Birdies bright, birdies sweet, where do you lie? Up in the tree-tops,--oh, ever so high!
Baby dear, baby love, where do _you_ lie? In my warm crib, with Mamma close by.
Nose, nose, jolly red nose; And what gave thee that jolly red nose? Nutmegs and cinnamon, spices and cloves, And they gave me this jolly red nose.
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Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, where have you been? I've been to London to visit the Queen! Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there? I frighten'd a little mouse under her chair.
Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea, Silver buckles on his knee; He'll come back and marry me, Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.
Bobby Shaftoe's fat and fair, Combing down his yellow hair; He's my love for evermore; Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.
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"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly; "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. The way into my parlor is up a winding stair; And I have many curious things to show you when you're there."
"Oh, no, no," said the little fly; "to ask me is in vain; For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."
"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!" "Oh, no, no," said the little fly; "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Said the cunning spider to the fly,-- "Dear friend, what can I do To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?"
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good-morning now, I'll call another day."
The spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again; So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly, And set his table ready, to dine upon the fly. Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,-- "Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your head! Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Alas! alas! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by. With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, her green and purple hue,-- Thinking only of her crested head--poor foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast! He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, Within his little parlor,--but she ne'er came out again!
And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed; Unto an evil counsellor close heart and ear and eye, And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
One, two, three, four, Mary at the cottage door; Five, six, seven, eight, Eating cherries off a plate; O-U-T spells out!
One, two, three, four, five, Catching fishes all alive. Why did you let them go? Because they bit my finger so. Which finger did they bite? The little finger on the right.
Of all the gay birds that e'er I did see, The owl is the fairest by far to me; For all the day long she sits on a tree, And when the night comes, away flies she.
St. Swithin's day, if thou dost rain, For forty days it will remain; St. Swithin's day, if thou be fair, For forty days 'twill rain na mair.
There once were two cats of Kilkenny, Each thought there was one cat too many, So they fought and they fit, And they scratched and they bit, Till, excepting their nails And the tips of their tails, Instead of two cats, there weren't any.
1 This pig went to the barn; 2 This ate all the corn; 3 This said he would tell; 4 This said he wasn't well; 5 This went week, week, week, over the door sill.
There was a little man, And he had a little gun, And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He went to the brook And saw a little duck, And he shot it through the head, head, head.
He carried it home To his old wife Joan, And bid a fire for to make, make, make, To roast the little duck, He had shot in the brook, And he'd go and fetch her the drake, drake, drake.
As I was going o'er London Bridge, I met a cart full of fingers and thumbs! [Gloves.]
Come to the window, My baby, with me, And look at the stars That shine on the sea! There are two little stars That play at bo-peep With two little fish Far down in the deep; And two little frogs Cry neap, neap, neap; I see a dear baby That should be asleep.
There was an old woman And nothing she had; And so this old woman Was said to be mad. She'd nothing to eat, She'd nothing to wear, She'd nothing to lose, She'd nothing to fear, She'd nothing to ask, And nothing to give, And when she did die, She'd nothing to leave.
I had a little husband, no bigger than my thumb; I put him in a pint-pot, and there I bid him drum.
I bought a little horse, that galloped up and down; I saddled him and bridled him, and sent him out of town.
I gave him some garters, to garter up his hose, And a little pocket handkerchief to wipe his pretty nose.
Goosey, goosey, gander, wither dost thou wander? Up stairs, and down stairs, and in my lady's chamber. There I met an old man, who would not say his prayers; I took him by the left leg, and threw him down stairs.
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Little Polly Flinders Sat among the cinders, Warming her pretty little toes; Her mother came and caught her, And whipped her little daughter For spoiling her nice new clothes.
If all the world was apple-pie, And all the sea was ink, And all the trees were bread and cheese, What should we have to drink?
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
When the traveller in the dark Thanks you for your tiny spark: How could he see where to go If you did not twinkle so?
In the dark blue sky you keep, Often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye, Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
The man in the moon Came tumbling down, And asked the way to Norwich. He went by the South, And he burnt his mouth, With eating cold pease porridge.
Hub a dub, dub, Three men in a tub; The butcher, the baker, The candlestick maker; All jumped out of an Irish potato.
Bell-horses, bell-horses, What time of day? One o'clock, two o'clock, Off and away.
Tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee Resolved to have a battle, For tweedle-dum said tweedle-dee Had spoiled his nice new rattle. Just then flew by a monstrous crow, As big as a tar-barrel, Which frightened both the heroes so, They quite forgot their quarrel.
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Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig and away he run; The pig was eat, and Tom was beat, And Tom ran crying down the street.
If all the world were water, And all the water were ink, What should we do for bread and cheese? What should we do for drink?
Ten little Injuns standing in a line-- One went home, and then there were nine.
Nine little Injuns swinging on a gate-- One tumbled off, and then there were eight.
Eight little Injuns never heard of heaven-- One kicked the bucket, and then there were seven.
Seven little Injuns cutting up tricks-- One went to bed and then there were six.
Six little Injuns kicking all alive-- One broke his neck, and then there were five.
Five little Injuns on a cellar door-- One tumbled off, and then there were four.
Four little Injuns climbing up a tree-- One fell down, and then there were three.
Three little Injuns out in a canoe-- One fell overboard, and then there were two.
Two little Injuns fooling with a gun-- One shot the other, and then there was one.
One little Injun living all alone-- He got married, and then there was none!
Jack Spratt's pig, He was not very little, Nor yet very big; He was not very lean, He was not very fat-- He'll do well for a grunt, Says little Jack Spratt.
Hush-a-bye, baby, Daddy is near; Mamma is a lady, And that's very clear.
This is the way the ladies ride, Tri, tre, tri, tree, tri, tre, tri, tree! This is the way the ladies ride; Tri, tre, tri, tree, tri, tre, tri, tree!
This is the way the gentlemen ride! Gallop-a-trot, gallop-a-trot! This is the way the gentlemen ride! Gallop-a-trot, gallop-a-trot!
This is the way the farmers ride! Hobbledy-hop, hobbledy-hop! This is the way the farmers ride! Hobbledy-hop, hobbledy-hop!
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Father, may I go to war? Yes, you may, my son; Wear your woollen comforter, But don't fire off your gun.
There was an owl lived in an oak, Wisky, wasky, weedle; And every word he ever spoke Was fiddle, faddle, feedle.
A gunner chanced to come that way, Wisky, wasky, weedle; Says he, "I'll shoot you, silly bird." Fiddle, faddle, feedle.
Nancy Dawson has grown so fine She won't get up to serve the swine; She lies in bed till eight or nine, So it's Oh, poor Nancy Dawson.