Page 7—Children's Rhymes

Page 7—Children's RhymesHickup, go away.Hickup, hickup, go away!Come again another day:Hickup, hickup, when I bake,I'll give to you a butter-cake.Dance, Baby.Dance, little baby, dance up high,Never mind, baby, mother is nigh;Crow and caper, caper and crow—There, little baby, there you go!Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,Backwards and forwards, round and round.Dance, little baby, and mother will sing!Merrily, merrily, ding, dong, ding!Dance, Little Baby.Dance to your daddy,My little babby,Dance to your daddy,My little lamb.You shall have a fishyIn a little dishy;You shall have a fishyWhen the boat comes in.Danty Baby Diddy.Danty baby diddy,What can a mammy do wid'e,But sit in a lap,And give 'un a pap?Sing danty baby diddy.Hush-a-bye Baa Lamb.Hush-a-bye, a baa lamb,Hush-a-by a milk cow,You shall have a little stickTo beat the naughty bow-wow.Bye, Baby Bunting.Bye, baby bunting,Daddy's gone a hunting,To get a little rabbit skinTo wrap a baby bunting in.Hush-a-bye Baby.Hush-a-bye baby, on the tree top,When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall;Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.Hush-a-bye baby, Daddy is near:Mammy's a lady, and that's very clear.Rock-a-bye Baby.Rock-a-bye baby, thy cradle is green;Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen;And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring,And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king.Kissing Baby.My dear cockadoodle, my jewel, my joy,My darling, my honey, my pretty, sweet boy;Before I do rock thee with soft lullaby,Give me thy dear lips to be kiss'd, kiss'd, kiss'd.Good-night BabyBaby, baby, lay your headOn your pretty cradle bed;Shut your eye-peeps, now the dayAnd the light are gone away;All the clothes are tucked in tight,Little baby, dear, good night.Lie still with Daddy.Hush thee, my babby,Lie still with thy daddy,Thy mammy has gone to the mill,To grind thee some wheat,To make thee some meat,And so, my babby, lie still.Monkey Feeding Baby.Monkey feeding Baby.Oh, my lady! my lady! my lady!Here's that funny monkeyHas put on your night-cap,And is feedingThe baby! the baby! the baby!Baby getting upBaby, baby ope your eye,For the sun is in the sky,And he's peeping once againThrough the pretty window pane:Little baby, do not keepAny longer fast asleep.Washing Baby's HandsWash hands, wash,Daddy's gone to plough;If you want your hands wash'd,Have them washed now.Combing Baby's HairComb hair, comb,Daddy's gone to plough;If you want your hair comb'dHave it combed now.Baby BrotherMy pretty baby-brotherIs six months old to-day,And though he cannot speak,He knows whate'er I say.Whenever I come near,He crows for very joy;And dearly do I love him,The darling baby-boy.BabyHe opens his mouth when he kisses you;He cries very loud when he misses you;He says "Boo! boo! boo!" for "How-do-you-do?"And he strokes down your face when he's loving you.Learning to walk aloneCome, my darling, come away,Take a pretty walk to-day;Run along, and never fear,I'll take care of baby dear;Up and down with little feet,That's the way to walk, my sweet.See-SawSee-saw sacradown,Which is the way to London town,One foot up is the other down,That is the way to London town.Naughty BabyBaby, baby Charlie,Naughty in his play,Slapping little Annie,Pushing her away.Patting with his soft hands,Laughing in his fun;Slapping with such good-will,That the tear-drops run.Do not cry, dear Annie,Wipe away the tear;Keep away from Charlie,Do not come so near,Or his little hands willPull your curly hair;Peep at baby, Annie—Peep behind the chair.Kiss the baby, darling,Kiss the little one;He is only playing,In his baby fun.Previous-Index-NextPage 8—Little Children's StoriesTom Thumb's AlphabetA was an archer, who shot at a frog;B was a butcher, who had a great dog;C was a captain, all covered with lace;D was a drunkard, and had a red face;E was an esquire, with pride on his brow;F was a farmer, who followed the plough;G was a gamer, who had but ill luck;H was a hunter, and hunted a buck;I was an innkeeper, who loved to bouse;J was a joiner, and built up a house;K was King William, once governed this land;L was a lady, who had a white hand;M was a miser, and hoarded up gold:N was a nobleman, gallant and bold;O was an oyster girl, and went about town;P was a parson, and wore a black gown;Q was a queen, who wore a silk slip;R was a robber, and wanted a whip;S was a sailor, and spent all he got;T was a tinker, and mended a pot;U was an usurer, a miserable elf;V was a vintner, who drank all himself;W was a watchman, and guarded the door;X was expensive, and so became poor;Y was a youth, that did not love school;Z was a Zany, a poor harmless fool;Sing a Song-a-SixpenceSing a song-a-sixpence,A pocket full of rye;Four-and-twenty blackbirdsBaked in a pie;When the pie was openedThe birds began to sing:Was that not a dainty dishTo set before the king?The king was in his counting-house,Counting out his money,The queen was in the parlour,Eating bread and honey;The maid was in the garden,Hanging out the clothes;Down came a blackbird,And snapt off her nose.Old Chairs to MendIf I'd as much money as I could spend,I never would cry old chairs to mend;Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend;I never would cry old chairs to mend.If I'd as much money as I could tell,I never would cry old clothes to sell;Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell;I never would cry old clothes to sell.Dad's gane to PlooCock-a-doodle-doo,My dad's gane to ploo;Mammy's lost her pudding-pokeAnd knows not what to do.Hot Cross BunsHot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns!One a penny, two a penny,Hot-cross buns!Hot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns!If you have no daughters,Give them to your sons.Rabbit PieRabbit, rabbit, rabbit-pie!Come, my ladies, come and buy;Else your babies they will cry.Baker With Pie.A—Apple-PieA apple pie;B bit it;C cut it;D danced for it;E eat it;F fought for it;G got it;H had it;I ignored it;J jumped for it;K kept it;L longed for it;M mourned for it;N nodded at it;O opened it;P peeped in it;Q quartered it;R ran for it;S stole it;T took it;U uncovered it;V viewed it;W wanted it;X ax'ed for it;Y yawned for it:Z cried, "Zounds! let's eat it up."Three Men in a TubRub a dub, dub,Three men in a tub;And who do you think they were?The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,They all came out of a rotten potato.DinnerHey ding a ding, what shall I sing?How many holes in a skimmer?Four-and-twenty, my stomach is empty;Pray mamma, give me some dinner.The BarberBarber, barber, shave a pig,How many hairs will make a wig?"Four-and-twenty, that's enough,"Give the barber a pinch of snuff.Punch and JudyPunch and Judy fought for a pie;Punch gave Judy a blow on the eye.Pease PuddingPease pudding hot,Pease pudding cold,Pease pudding in the pot,Nine days old.PorridgeA little bit of powdered beef,And a great net of cabbage,The best meal I have to-dayIs a good bowl of porridge.ShavingThe barber shaved the mason,As I suppose cut of his nose,And popp'd it in a basin.Captain DuckI saw a ship a-sailing,A-sailing on the sea;And, oh! it was all ladenWith pretty things for thee.There were comfits in the cabin,And apples in the holds;The sails were made of silk,And the masts were made of gold.The four-and-twenty sailorsThat 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 said "Quack quack!"Little Tee WeeLittle Tee Wee' he went to seaIn an open boat; and while afloatThe little boat bended,And my story's ended.Previous-Index-NextPage 9—Children's RhymesJack be QuickJack be nimble, and Jack be quick;And Jack jump over the candle-stick.Jack SpratJack Sprat had a cat,It had but one ear;It went to buy butterWhen butter was dear.Jack HornerLittle Jack Horner sat in the corner,Eating a Christmas Pie;He put in his thumb, and he took out a plum,And said, "What a good boy am I!"Tom TuckerLittle Tom TuckerSings for his supper;What shall he eat?White bread and butter.How shall he cut itWithout e'er a knife?How will he be marriedWithout e'er a wife?Georgie PorgieGeorgie Porgie, pudding and pie,Kissed the girls and made them cry.When the girls came out to playGeorgie Porgie ran away.See-SawSee-saw, Margery Daw,Little Jacky shall have a new master;Little Jacky shall have but a penny a day,Because he can't work any faster.Little LadLittle lad, little lad, where wast thou born?Far off in Lancashire, under a thorn,Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn.Jack-a-DandyHandy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy,Loved plum-cake and sugar-candy;He bought some at a grocer's shop,And out he came, hop, hop, hop.My Son JohnDeedle, deedle, dumpling, my son JohnWent to bed with his stockings on;One shoe off, the other shoe on.Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son JohnJack and JillJack and Jill went up the hill,To fetch a pail of water;Jack fell down and broke his crown,And Jill came tumbling after.Who Can Draw BestWillie drew a little pig,Harry drew a mouse,Tommy drew a ladder tallLeaning on a house.Baa, Baa Black SheepBaa, baa, black sheep,Have you any wool?Yes, marry have I,Three bags full:One for my master,And one for my dame,But none for the little boyWho cries in the lane.Cat With Fiddle.Hey diddle diddleHey 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 after the spoon.The Quaker's Version"Hey! diddle diddle,The cat and the fiddle,The cow jumped under the moon;The little dog barkedto see such sportAnd the cat ran after the spoon!"[*][*]Our friend, the Quaker, holds that the last verse is the proper one, as it is the truest; but the wonderful is taken out of it, and children, accordingly, prefer the first. There is nothing wonderful in the cow jumping "under" the moon, but there is in the cow jumping "over" the moon, so with the black-birds baked in a pie. It is the fact of their singing when the pie is opened that pleases the children—'twas the wonder of the thing; so with the freaks of Mother Hubbard's Dog, etc. In nearly all nursery rhymes it is the ludicrous and wonderful that arrests the attention and pleases.E. W. ColeFrightened BoyThere was a little boy, went into a barn,And lay down on some hay;An owl came out, and flew about,And the little boy ran away.Frightened BoysTweedle-dum and tweedle-deeResolved to have a battle,For tweedle-dum said tweedle-deeHad 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.Baked in a PieBaby and IWere baked in a pie,The gravy was wonderful hot;We had nothing to payTo the baker that dayAnd so we crept out of the pot.Maid not at HomeHigh diddle doubt, my candle's out,My little maid is not at home;Saddle my hog, and bridle my dog,And fetch my little maid home.Dame not at HomeRowsty dowt, my fire's all out,My little dame is not at home;I'll saddle my goose and bridle my hen,And fetch my little dame home again;Home she came, tritty trot;And asked for the porridge she left in the pot.All in the DumpsWe're all in the dumps,For diamonds are trumps;The kittens are gone to St. Paul's!The babies are bit,The moon's in a fit,And the houses are built without walls.Hot RollsBlow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!That the miller may grind his corn;That the baker may take it,And into rolls make it,And send us some hot in the morn.Rosemary green,And lavender blue,Thyme and sweet marjoram,Hyssop and rue.Bed TimeCome, let's to bed, says Sleepy-headTarry a while says Slow;Put on the pot, says Greedy-Jock,Let's sup before we go.Go to Bed FirstGo to bed first,A golden purse;Go to bed second,A golden Pheasant;Go to bed third,A golden bird.Previous-Index-NextPage 10—Girl LandThe three Cry-Babies.Cry-Baby BelleCry-baby BelleIs always in tearsNothing you can give her can ease her!Sugar and spice,And everything nice,Kisses and cakes will not please her.She'll cry if she happensTo get a slight fall,She'll cry if the naughty boys tease her;She'll cry for a spoon,And she'll cry for the moon;So there's no use in trying to please her.If the food set before herDon't happen to suit—Oh, then just as loud as she's able,This cry-baby BelleWill set up a yell,And scare all the folks at the table.If she wants to go outIn the street she will cry;If she wants to come in how she screeches!For nothing at allShe will set up and bawl,Unmindful of comforting speeches,She screams in the morningBecause she's not dress'd;And at night when they want to undress herMore loudly she'll roar,And roll over the floorAs if she had pains to distress her.She cries when she's sick,And she cries when she's well,And often cries when she's sleeping,So that heavy and red,And most out of her headAre her eyes, on account of such weeping.She always is fretful,Unhappy, and cross,No matter what she may be doing,And cry-baby BellePleases nobody wellBecause of her constant boo-hooing.For a Naughty Little GirlMy sweet little girl should be careful and mild,And should not be fretful, and cry!Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child,God sees you, who lives in the sky.That dear little face, which I like so to kiss,How frightful and sad it appears!Do you think I can love you, so naughty as this,Or kiss you so wetted with tears?Remember, tho' God is in heaven, my love,He sees you within and without,And he always looks down from His glory above,To notice what you are about.If I am not with you, or if it be dark,And nobody is in the way,His eye is as able your doings to mark,In the night as it is in the day.Then dry up your tears, and look smiling againAnd never do things that are wrong;For I'm sure you must feel it a terrible pain,To be naughty, and crying so long.Paulina PryPaulina PryWould eat nothing but pie;Pie was her daily diet;Apple or plum,She must have someOr else she wouldn't be quiet.She would not eatAny bread or meat,Though plenty of these were handy,But would pout and cryFor a piece of pie,Or a stick of sugar-candy.They heard her cryIn the Land of Pie,And sent her dozens and dozens,Both tender and tough,Till she'd had more than enoughFor her sisters, her aunts and her cousins.Tearful AnniePoor little Annie, you will find,Is very gentle, good, and kind,But soon a a fault appears.The slightest thing will give her pain,Her feelings she can ne'er restrain,But gives way to her tears.The other day when Ferdinand—And if you search throughout the land,No nicer boy you'll find—Said something which he never meantTo cause the slightest discontent,For hours she sobbed and whined.Her father grieved, said: "This must ceaseWe never have a moment's peace,She cries both day and night."A portrait painter then he paid,To paint his little tearful maid,Crying with all her might.He set to work that very day,Directly he received his pay;The picture soon was done.Yes, there she was, all sobs and sighs,Large tear-drops streaming from her eyes."How like!" said every one.It was in truth a great success;Quite perfect, neither more nor less;Her father was so glad.He hung the portrait in her room;It filled her with the deepest gloom;She felt annoyed and sad.With every relative who came,And saw the picture, 'twas the same,All startled with affright.Uncles, and aunts, and cousins too,Found it so striking, life-like, trueThat soon they took to flight.Annie not long could this endure;It brought about a speedy cure,She ceased to cry and moan.Her father ceased to scold and frown,He had the picture taken down,And in the garret thrown.Tearful Annie's Likeness.Previous-Index-NextPage 11—Girl LandOur Christmas Hamper.Hattie's BirthdayOh! This is a happy, beautiful world!My heart is light and gay;The birds in the trees sing blithely to meAnd I'm six years old to-day.Yes, six, and father has bought me a book,And mother, the sweetest doll,All dressed in white with blue eyes bright,And the nicest hat and shawl.My kitty sat quietly near the fireAs Dolly and I came by;Miss Dolly bowed, and pussy meowed,And opened her yellow eye.Ah me! if Kit could only talk,And Dolly could but chat,We'd social be as any three—Talk, sing, and all of that.I dressed all up in grandma's cap,And put on her glasses too;"Why, Grandma!" I said, as I looked at myself,"I'm almost as old as you."My mother softly kissed my cheek,And then she blessed me too,Praying that I, as years went by,Might be as good and true.My birthday song is a merry one,And my heart is warm and light;Kind father, mother, and dear grandma,Sweet dolly and pussy, good night.Youth and AgeA funny thing I heard to-day,I might as well relate.Our Lil is six, and little MayStill lacks a month of eight.And, through the open play-room door,I heard the elder say:"Lil, run downstairs and get my doll;Go quick, now—right away!"And Lillie said—(and I agreedThat May was hardly fair):—"You might say 'please,' or go yourself—I didn't leave it there.""But, Lillie," urged the elder one,"Your little legs, you know,Are younger than mine are, child,And so you ought to go!"Children"I would not be a girl," said Jack,"Because they have no fun;They cannot go a-fishing, norA-shooting with a gun;They cannot climb up trees for fruit,Nor bathe without a bathing dress,Which is no fun at all.""I would not be a boy," said May,"For boys are nasty things,With pockets filled with hooks and knives,And nails, and tops and stringsAnd when a boy becomes a man,He's got to buy girls rings;"A Lost Child"I'm losted! Could you find me, please?"Poor little frightened baby!The wind had tossed her golden fleece,The stones had scratched her dimpled knees,I stooped and lifted her with ease,And softly whispered "Maybe.""Tell me your name, my little maid:I can't find you without it.""My name is Shiny-eyes," she said,"Yes; but your last name?" She shook her head:"Up to my house 'ey never saidA single word about it.""But, dear," I said, "what is your name?""Why, didn't you hear me told you?Dust Shiny-eyes." A bright thought came:"Yes, when you're good. But when they blameYou little one,—is it just the sameWhen mamma has to scold you?""My mamma never scolds," she moans,A little blush ensuing,"'Cept when I've been a-frowing stones;And then she says (the culprit owns),—Mehitabel Sapphira Jones.What has you been a-doing?"Anna E. BurnhamLittle MaryHere stands little, little Mary,With her face of winning grace,Chattering tongue that runs apace,And her ways contraryWho so gay as Mary?With her laughs of rippling gleeBrimming o'er with melody,—Bonny, blithesome Mary.Household pet is Mary—Such a merry, joyous sprite,Filling all our home with light—Pretty winsome Mary!Mischief-loving Mary,Busy as the busiest bee,Full of sunshine, life, and gleeIs our heart's sweet Mary!Girl and AngelAs Peter sat at Heaven's gateA maiden sought permission,And begged of him, if not too late,To give her free admission."What claim hast thou to enter here?"He cried with earnest mien."Please sir," said she, 'twixt hope and fear,"I'm only just sixteen!""Enough," the hoary guardian said,And the gate wide open threw."That is the age when every maidIs girl and angel too."Our Country Cousin.Previous-Index-NextPage 12—Naughty GirlsGirl Who Wouldn't Go to BedOnce I knew a little girl,Who wouldn't go to bed,And in the morning always hadA very sleepy head.At night she'd stop upon the stairs,And hold the railings tightThen with a puff she'd try to blowOut Mary Ann's rushlight.The bed at last they tuck'd her in,The light she vow'd to keep;Left in the dark she roar'd and cried;Till tired she went to sleep.Little Girl that Beat her SisterGo, go, my naughty girl, and kissYour little sister dear;I must not have such things as this,Nor noisy quarrels here.What! little children scold and fightWho ought to be so mild;Oh! Mary, 'tis a shocking sightTo see an angry child.I can't imagine for my part,The reason of your folly,As if she did you any hurtBy playing with your dolly.Children Should not QuarrelLet dogs delight to bark an bite,For God hath made them so;Let bears and lions growl and fight:For 'tis their nature to.But children you should never letSuch angry passions rise;Your little hands were never madeTo tear each other's eyes.The Sulky GirlWhy is Mary standing there,Leaning down upon the chair,With pouting lip and frowning brow?I wonder what's the matter now.Come here, my dear, and tell me true,Is it because I spoke to youAbout what you just now had done,That you are such a naughty one?When, then, indeed, I'm grieved to seeThat you can so ill-tempered be:You make your faults a great deal worseBy being sulky and perverse.Oh! how much better it appears,To see you melting into tears,And then to hear you humbly say,"I'll not do so another day!"The Little Girl that did not Like to be WashedWhat! cry when I wash you! not love to be clean?There, go and be dirty, unfit to be seen;And till you leave off, and I see you have smiled,I'll not take the trouble to wash such a child.The Girl who Sucked her FingersA little girl, named Mary Kate,Whom you may have chance to see,Would have been loved by small and great,But for one thing, which I'll relate;So listen now to me.A silly habit she's acquiredOf putting in her mouth,The pretty fingers of her hand,And sucking them, for hours she'd stand,In a manner most uncouth.Her play-companions used to laugh,And jeeringly would say,"Oh, pray bring Mary Kate some crumbs,Poor thing! she's dining off her thumbs,She'll eat them all away."Girl Stealing Treacle.Girl Stealing TreacleThis is Nelly Pilfer;I'll tell you what she earnedBy stealing off the treacleWhen Mary's back was turned.They caught the greedy NellyWith treacle on her hand,They put her in the corner,And there they made her stand.The Girl who Soiled her ClothesLittle Polly Flinders,Sat among the cinders,Warming her pretty toes;Her mother came and caught her,And scolded her little daughter,For spoiling her nice new clothes.The Greedy Little GirlI knew a greedy little girl,Who all day long did roar;Whatever toys were given her,She always wanted more.Five dolls she had—one was black,A ball and battledore,But held them all so very tight,The roar'd and scream'd for more.Now this was wicked of the child,As everyone must own;So for the whole of one long dayThey shut her up alone.The Girl Who Played with FireMamma, a little girl I met,Had such a scar, I can't forget!All down her arms and neck and face;I could not bear to see the place.Poor little girl! and don't you knowThe shocking trick that made her so?'Twas all because she went and didA thing her mother had forbid.For once, when nobody was by her,This silly child would play with fire;And long before her mother came,Her pinafore was all in flame.In vain she tried to put it out,Till all her clothes were burnt about;And then she suffer'd ten times more,All over with a dreadful sore.For many months before 'twas cured,Both day and night the pain endured;And still you see, when passing by her,How sad it is to play with fire.Little Miss ConsequenceLittle Miss Consequence strutted about,Turned up her nose, pointed her toes,And thought herself quite a grand person, no doubt.Gave herself airs; took many cares,To appear old; was haughty and cold.She spoke to the servants like a dog or a catAnd fussed about this, and fussed about that.The Vulgar Little Lady"But, mamma, now," said Charlotte, "pray don't you believeThat I'm better than Jenny my nurse?Only see my red shoes, and the lace on my sleeve;Her clothes are a thousand times worse."I ride in my coach, and have nothing to do.And the country folks stare at me so;And nobody dares to control me but you,Because I'm a lady, you know."Then servants are vulgar and I am genteel;So, really, 'tis out of the way,To think that I should not be better a dealThan maids, and such people as they.""Gentility, Charlotte," her mother replied,"Belongs to no station or place;And nothing's so vulgar as folly and pride,Though dressed in red slippers and lace."Not all the fine things that fine ladies possessShould teach them the poor to despise;For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress,That the truest gentility lies."Previous-Index-NextPage 13—Naughty GirlsGirl Who Wouldn't be Dressed.Naughty, Dirty Girl.Peggy Won't"I won't be dressed, I won't, I won't!"Cried Peggy one morn to mamma."Very well, dear," was quietly said,"I'll teach you how silly you are."Peggy then frowned and set her lipsExpecting a kiss as of old,But mother had gravely walked away,And Peggy was getting so cold.The minutes passed, and Peggy sighed,For thoughts of her breakfast arose,And "Mammy, dear," she loudly wept,While stamping her bare little toes.Then mother came, and firmly said,"I'm taking you, dear, at your word;'I won't be dressed—I won't, I won't!'Has many times lately been heard."So now to bed, my little maid,For youwill notbe dressed to-day;Then Peggy will be taught to thinkBefore acting in such a way."Oh, for the tears that Peggy shed!But now every morn, I am told,A wee young maid is quietly dressed,And is always as good as gold.The Shadows"Mamma! I see somethingQuite dark on the wall;—It moves up and down,And it looks very strange!Sometimes it is large,And sometimes it is small;Pray, tell me what it is,And why does it change?""It is Mamma's shadowThat puzzles you so,And there is your ownClose beside it, my love!Now run round the room,It will go where you go;It rests where you sit,When you rise it will move."These wonderful shadowsAre caused by the lightFrom fire and from candlesUpon us that falls;If we were not here,All that place would be bright,But light can't shineThrough us to lighten the wall."And when you are outSome fine day in the sun,I'll take you where shadowsOf apple-trees lie;And houses and cottages too—Every oneRepose on their shadowsBeneath the bright sky."Now hold up your mouth,And give me a sweet kiss;Our shadows kiss too!—Don't you see it quite plain?""O yes! and I thank youFor telling me this,I'll not be afraidOf a shadow again."Mary LundieGirl in Disgrace.Another Naughty Girl.Previous-Index-NextPage 14—Naughty GirlsLittle Bo-PeepLittle Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,And can't tell where to find them;Leave them alone, and they'll come homeAnd bring their tails behind them.Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,And dreamed she heard them bleating,But when she awoke, 'twas all a joke—Alas! they still were fleeting.Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them, indeed, bit it made her heart bleed,They'd left their tails behind them.It happened one day, as Bo-Peep did strayOver the meadows hard by,That there she espied their tails side by side,All hung on a tree to dry.She heaved a sigh, and gave by-and-byEach careless sheep a banging;And as for the rest, she thought it was bestJust to leave their tails a-hanging.Mary's Little LambMary had a little lambWhose fleece was white as snow,And everywhere that Mary wentThat Lamb it would not go;So Mary took that little LambAnd put it on the spit,And soon it was so nicely doneShe ate it every bit.PemmyPemmy was a pretty girl,But Fanny was a better;Pemmy look'd like any churl,When little Fanny let her.Pemmy had a pretty nose,But Fanny had a better;Pemmy oft would come to blows,But Fanny would not let her.Pemmy had a pretty song,But Fanny had a better;Pemmy would sing all day long,But Fanny would not let her.Little HusbandI 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 bridled him, and saddled him,And sent him out of town.I gave him some garters,To garter up his hose,And a little handkerchief,To wipe his pretty nose.I'm GovernessNow children dear, you all come nearAnd do not make a noise;But listen here, just take and clearThat desk of all those toys.For now I'm Governess you'll find,That its myself will make you mind;So Alice Brown you do your sum,And Betty Snooks don't look so glum.And Sarah White sit down at once,And Susan Black you are a dunce,And Annie Grey you needn't thinkI didn't see you spill the ink.And find your thimble Maggie More,And mind your sewing Jennie Shore;And Linda Cole you know 'tis wrongTo make a stitch two inches long.I'm Governess.And you Kate Ross, stop pinching there,Don't scratch! nor pull your sister's hair;And you, you naughty Lucy Moyes,Must not be talking to the boys.And Bridget Mace don't make that face;And Norah Finn keep your tongue in.Don't be a Tom-boy Emma Pyke,You really must act lady-like.Now I want all good children in my school,Don't want a single dunce, bad girl or fool,So I will kindly ask you to be brave,And try to very, very well behave.Yes all be good and learn your lessons well,And then I'll ring the little bell to tellThat school is over for the day,And you can all run out to play.Little GovernessLittle Nellie Nipkin, brisk, and clean, and neat,Keeps a little baby-school in the village street;Teaches little pupils all that she can find,And keeps a little birch that teaches them to mind.My Mamma's MaidDingty diddledy, My mamma's maid,She stole oranges, I'm afraid;Some in her pockets, some in her sleeve,She stole oranges, I believe.My DollyI have a little doll, I take care of her clothes;She has soft flaxen hair, and her name is Rose.She has pretty blue eyes, and a very small nose,And a funny little mouth, and her name is Rose.Tommy SnooksAs Tommy Snooks and Bessy BrooksWere walking out one Sunday,Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,"To-morrow will be Monday."Little Betty BlueLittle Betty Blue, lost her left shoe,What can little Betty do?Give her another, to match the other,And then she may walk in two.Cross PatchCross patch, draw the latch,Sit by the fire and spin;Take a cup, and drink it up,Then call your neighbours in.Jumping JoanHinx, minx! the old witch winks,The fat begins to fry;There's nobody at home but jumping Joan,Father, mother, and I.Princess Lost Her ShoeDoodle, doodle, doo,The Princess lost her shoe;Her highness hopp'dThe fiddler stopp'dNot knowing what to do.Hobble GobbleThe girl in the lane that couldn't speak plain,Cried "Gobble, gobble, gobble;"The man on the hill that couldn't stand still,Went "Hobble, hobble, hobble."Our Girl's RabbitsMary, Kate, and Maria went down as agreed,To the hutch in the garden, the rabbits to feed;There was the mother, a steady old bunny,Moving her nose in a manner so funny.A young rabbit also, tho' seeming to dose,Kept munching his breakfast and moving his nose;Mary, Kate, and Maria gave the rabbits some food,And lovingly stroked them because they were good.Previous-Index-NextPage 15—Naughty GirlsMeddlesome MattyOne ugly trick has often spoiledThe sweetest and the best;Matilda, though a pleasant child,One ugly trick possessed,Which, like a cloud before the skies,Hid all her better qualities.Sometimes she'd lift the teapot lidTo peep at what was in it;Or tilt the kettle, if you didBut turn your back a minute.In vain you told her not to touch—Her trick of meddling grew so much.Her grandma went out one day,And by mistake she laidHer spectacles and snuff-box gayToo near the little maid;"Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on,As soon as grandmamma is gone,"Forthwith she placed upon her noseThe glasses large and wide;And looking round, as I suppose,The snuff box she too spied:"Oh! what a pretty box is that;I'll open it." said little Matt."I know grandmamma would say,'Don't meddle with it, dear;'But then she's far enough away,And no one else is near;Besides, what can there be amissIn opening such a box as this?"So thumb and finger went to workTo move the stubborn lid;And presently a mighty jerkThe mighty mischief did;For all at once, ah! woeful case,The snuff came puffing in her face.Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth beside,A dismal sight presented;In vain, as bitterly she cried,Her folly she repented.In vain she ran about for ease;She could do nothing now but sneeze.She dashed the spectacles away,To wipe her tingling eyes;And as in twenty bits they lay,Her grandmamma she spies."Heyday! and what's the matter now?"Says grandmamma, with lifted brow.Matilda, smarting with the pain,And tingling still and sore,Made many a promise to refrainFrom meddling evermore.And 'tis a fact, as I have heard,She ever since has kept her word.The Girl who Spilled the Ink"Oh! Lucy! Fanny! Make haste here!Mamma will be so vexed, I fear,For I've upset the ink!See, on my frock and pinafore,Such great black stains! And there are moreUpon my socks, I think."And Lucy cries, with open eyes,And hands extended in surprise,"Oh, naughty Mary Ann,Those stains can never be washed out;Whatever have you been about?Look at her, sister Fan!"Mamma comes in: "Heyday! what's this?Why, Mary Ann, I told you, Miss,The inkstand ne'er to move;And little girls who won't obey,And mind each word their parents say,Good people ne'er will love."The Naughty GirlA naughty girl had got no toy,And didn't know what to do,So she rumpled her frockAnd tore her sock,And tried to eat her shoe.The Girl who was Always TastingLittle Miss Baster, of Sunnyside,Was known as a taster, far and wide;Picking and licking, spying and prying,Each bottle and dish with her fingers trying.Dangerous practice! dreadful little fact is!Once almost poisoned, and very near dying.Little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside,Has got some poison in paper tied;Harmless she deems it, yes, she must taste,Like sugar seems it, ah! but 'tis paste.Rat's-bane, the mixture. Oh! woe the day!Run for the doctor, bid him not stay.Dreadful her anguish—nearly she died,Did little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside.Children Stealing Jam.Children Stealing JamFour naughty little children thoughtSome jam they'd try and steal;But see how nicely they were caughtWith a crash that made them squeal.Their mother who was just next door,And heard the horrid noise,Came in and shook those naughty girls,And whipped those naughty boys.Sally, the Lazy GirlHer sister would come to the bedside and call,"Do you mean to sleep here all the day?"I saw Kitty Miles up two hours ago,A-washing and working away."The water is boiling, the table is spread,Your father is just at the door;If you are not quick, we shall eat all the bread,And you will not find any more."Then Sally sat up and half opened her eyes,And gave both a grunt and a groan;And yawning she said, in a quarrelsome voice,"I wish you would let me alone."But though she was lazy, she always could eat,And wished for a plentiful share,So tumbled her clothes on, and smeared her white face,Forgetting her hands and her hair.Her frock was all crumpled and twisted away,Her hair was entangled and wild,Her stockings were down and her shoes were untied,She looked a most slovenly child.She sauntered about till the old village clockHad sounded and then died away,Before she put on her torn bonnet and wentTo school without further delay.But soon as she came to the little cake shop,She loitered with lingering eyes,Just wishing that she had a penny to spend,For one of the pretty jam pies.Again she went on, and she loitered againIn the same foolish way as before,And the clock in the school was just warning for ten,As she lifted the latch of the door.The governess frowned as she went to her place,She had often so spoken in vain,And now only said, with a sorrowful sigh,"There's Sally the latest again!"She hated her reading, and never would write,She neither could cypher nor sew,And little girls whispered, "We never will beSo silly as Miss Sally Slow."Girl who Wouldn't Comb her HairI tell you of a little girl, who would herself have been,As pretty a young lady as ever could be seen,But that about her little head she had no cleanly care.And never, never could be made to brush and comb her hair.She would have been a pretty child,But, oh! she was a fright—She looked just like a girl that's wild,Yes, quite as ugly, quite;She looked just like a girl that's wild—A frightful ugly sight.The Nasty, Cross GirlsThe school was closed one afternoon,And all the girls were gone;Some walked away in company,And some walked on alone.Some plucked the flowers upon the banks,Some chatted very fast,And some were talking secretly,And whispered as you passed.And if, perchance, a girl came near,Then one of these would say,"Don't listen to our secrets, Miss,You'll please to go away."As Nelly White ran home from school,Her work-bag in her hand,She chanced to pass near Lucy Bell,And her friend Susan Brand."We don't want you," said Lucy Bell,"You little tiresome chit;Our secrets are not meant for you,You little tell-tale-tit."Then both girls cried, "Tell-tale-tit,"And pushed her roughly by;Poor Nelly said, "I'm no such thing,"And then began to cry.Previous-Index-NextPage 16—Girl's StoriesLittle Red Riding HoodOnce upon a time there was a dear little girl whose mother made her a scarlet cloak with a hood to tie over her pretty head; so people called her (as a pet name) "Little Red Riding-Hood." One day her mother tied on her cloak and hood and said,"I wish you to go to-day, my darling, to see your grandmamma, and take her a present of some butter, fresh eggs, a pot of honey, and a little cake with my love."Little Red Riding-Hood loved her grandmother, and was very glad to go. So she ran gaily through the wood, gathering wild flowers and gambolling among the ferns as she went; and the birds all sang their sweetest songs to her, and the bluebells nodded their pretty heads, for everything loved the gentle child.By and by a great hungry Wolf came up to her. He wished to eat her up, but as he heard the woodman Hugh's axe at work close by, he was afraid to touch her, for fear she should cry out and he should get killed. So he only asked her where she was going. Little Red Riding-Hood innocently told him (for she did not know he was a wicked Wolf) that she was going to visit her grandmother, who lived in a cottage on the other side of the wood. Then the Wolf made haste, and ran through the wood, and came to the cottage of which the child had told him. He tapped at the door."Who's there?" asked the old woman, who lay sick in bed."It is Little Red Riding-Hood, Grandmamma," answered the Wolf in a squeaky tone, to imitate the voice of her grandchild."Pull the string, and the latch will come up," said the old lady, "for I am ill and cannot open the door."The cruel Wolf did so, and, jumping on the bed, ate the poor grandmother up.Then he put on her night-cap and got into bed. By and by Little Red Riding-Hood, who had lingered gathering flowers as she came along, and so was much later than the Wolf, knocked at the door."Who's there?" asked the Wolf, mimicking her grandmother's voice."It is Little Red Riding-Hood, dear Grandmamma," said the child."Pull the string and the latch will come up," said the Wolf.So Red Riding-Hood came in, and the Wolf told her to put down her basket, and come and sit on the bed. When Little Red Riding-Hood drew back the curtain and saw the Wolf, she began to be rather frightened and said,"Dear Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!""All the better to see you with, my dear," said the Wolf, who liked a grim joke."And what a large nose you have, Grandmamma!" cried the child."All the better to smell you with, my dear.""And, oh! Grandmamma, what long white teeth you have!"Alas! she reminded the greedy Wolf of eating."All the better to eat you with!" he growled; and, jumping out of bed, sprang at Red Riding-Hood.But just at that moment Hugh the woodman, who had seen the sweet child go by, and had followed her, because he knew there was a Wolf prowling about the forest, burst the door open, and killed the wicked animal with his good axe. Little Red Riding-Hood clung round his neck and thanked him, and cried for joy; and Hugh took her home to her mother; and after that she was never allowed to walk in the greenwood by herself.It was said at first that the Wolf had eaten the child, but that was not the case; and everybody was glad to hear that the first report was not correct, and that the Wolf had not really killed Little Red Riding-Hood.Little Miss JewelLittle Miss JewelSat on a stool,Eating of curds and whey;There came a little spiderWho sat down beside her,And frightened Miss Jewel away.Little GirlLittle girl, little girl, where have you been;Gathering Roses to give to the Queen.Little girl, little girl, what gave she you?She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe.Little Betty BlueLittle Betty Blue lost her pretty shoe;What can Little Betty do?Give her another, to match the other,And then she can walk in two.I'm Grandmamma.I'm GrandmammaLast night when I was in bed,Such fun it seemed to me;I dreamt that I was Grandmamma,And Grandmamma was me.But she was such a tiny girl,And dressed in baby clothes;And I thought I smacked her face, becauseShe wouldn't blow her nose.An I went walking up the street,And she ran by my side;And because I walked too quick for her,My goodness, hoe she cried.And after tea I washed her face;And when her prayers were said,I blew the candle out, and leftPoor Grandmamma in bed.The Babes In The WoodA long time ago there lived in an old mansion in the country a rich gentleman and his wife, who had two dear little children, of whom they were very fond. Sad to relate, the gentleman and lady were both taken ill, and, feeling they were about to die, sent for the uncle of the children, and begged him to take care of them till they were old enough to inherit the estates.Now this uncle was a bad and cruel man, who wanted to take the house, the estates, and the money for himself,—so after the death of the parents he began to think how he could best get rid of the children. For some time he kept them till he claimed for them all the goods that should have been theirs. At last he sent for two robbers, who had once been his companions, and showing them the boy and girl, who were at play, offered them a large sum of money to carry them away and never let him see them more.One of the two robbers began coaxing the little boy and girl, and asking them if they would not like to go out for a nice ride in the woods, each of them on a big horse. The boy said he should if his sister might go too, and the girl said she should not be afraid if her brother went with her. So the two robbers enticed them away from the house, and, mounting their horses, went off into the woods, much to the delight of the children, who were pleased with the great trees, the bright flowers, and the singing of the birds.Now, one of these men was not so bad and cruel as the other, and he would not consent to kill the poor little creatures, as the other had threatened he would do. He said that they should be left in the woods to stray about, and perhaps they might then escape. This led to a great quarrel between the two, and at last the cruel one jumped off his horse, saying he would kill them, let who would stand in the way. Upon this the other drew his sword to protect the children, and after a fierce fight succeeded in killing his companion.But though he had saved them from being murdered, he was afraid to take them back or convey them out of the wood, so he pointed out a path, telling them to walk straight on and he would come back to them when he had bought some bread for their supper; he rode away and left them there all alone, with only the trees, and birds and flowers. They loved each other so dearly, and were so bold and happy, that they were not much afraid though they were both very hungry.The two children soon got out of the path, which led into the thickest part of the wood, and then they wandered farther and farther into the thicket till they were both sadly tired, but they found some wild berries, nuts and fruits, and began to eat them to satisfy their hunger. The dark night came on and the robber did not return. They were cold, and still very hungry, and the boy went about looking for fresh fruit for his sister, and tried to comfort her as they lay down to sleep on the soft moss under the trees.The next day, and the next, they roamed about, but there was nothing to eat but wild fruits; and they lived on them till they grew so weak that they could not go far from the tree where they had made a little bed of grass and weeds. There they laid down as the shades of night fell upon them, and in the morning they were both in heaven, for they died there in the forest, and as the sun shone upon their little pale faces, the robins and other birds came and covered their bodies with leaves, and so died and were buried the poor Babes in the Wood.

Hickup, go away.Hickup, hickup, go away!Come again another day:Hickup, hickup, when I bake,I'll give to you a butter-cake.Dance, Baby.Dance, little baby, dance up high,Never mind, baby, mother is nigh;Crow and caper, caper and crow—There, little baby, there you go!Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,Backwards and forwards, round and round.Dance, little baby, and mother will sing!Merrily, merrily, ding, dong, ding!Dance, Little Baby.Dance to your daddy,My little babby,Dance to your daddy,My little lamb.You shall have a fishyIn a little dishy;You shall have a fishyWhen the boat comes in.Danty Baby Diddy.Danty baby diddy,What can a mammy do wid'e,But sit in a lap,And give 'un a pap?Sing danty baby diddy.Hush-a-bye Baa Lamb.Hush-a-bye, a baa lamb,Hush-a-by a milk cow,You shall have a little stickTo beat the naughty bow-wow.Bye, Baby Bunting.Bye, baby bunting,Daddy's gone a hunting,To get a little rabbit skinTo wrap a baby bunting in.Hush-a-bye Baby.Hush-a-bye baby, on the tree top,When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall;Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.Hush-a-bye baby, Daddy is near:Mammy's a lady, and that's very clear.Rock-a-bye Baby.Rock-a-bye baby, thy cradle is green;Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen;And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring,And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king.Kissing Baby.My dear cockadoodle, my jewel, my joy,My darling, my honey, my pretty, sweet boy;Before I do rock thee with soft lullaby,Give me thy dear lips to be kiss'd, kiss'd, kiss'd.Good-night BabyBaby, baby, lay your headOn your pretty cradle bed;Shut your eye-peeps, now the dayAnd the light are gone away;All the clothes are tucked in tight,Little baby, dear, good night.Lie still with Daddy.Hush thee, my babby,Lie still with thy daddy,Thy mammy has gone to the mill,To grind thee some wheat,To make thee some meat,And so, my babby, lie still.Monkey Feeding Baby.

Hickup, go away.

Hickup, hickup, go away!Come again another day:Hickup, hickup, when I bake,I'll give to you a butter-cake.

Dance, Baby.

Dance, little baby, dance up high,Never mind, baby, mother is nigh;Crow and caper, caper and crow—There, little baby, there you go!Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,Backwards and forwards, round and round.Dance, little baby, and mother will sing!Merrily, merrily, ding, dong, ding!

Dance, Little Baby.

Dance to your daddy,My little babby,Dance to your daddy,My little lamb.You shall have a fishyIn a little dishy;You shall have a fishyWhen the boat comes in.

Danty Baby Diddy.

Danty baby diddy,What can a mammy do wid'e,But sit in a lap,And give 'un a pap?Sing danty baby diddy.

Hush-a-bye Baa Lamb.

Hush-a-bye, a baa lamb,Hush-a-by a milk cow,You shall have a little stickTo beat the naughty bow-wow.

Bye, Baby Bunting.

Bye, baby bunting,Daddy's gone a hunting,To get a little rabbit skinTo wrap a baby bunting in.

Hush-a-bye Baby.

Hush-a-bye baby, on the tree top,When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall;Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.Hush-a-bye baby, Daddy is near:Mammy's a lady, and that's very clear.

Rock-a-bye Baby.

Rock-a-bye baby, thy cradle is green;Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen;And Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring,And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the king.

Kissing Baby.

My dear cockadoodle, my jewel, my joy,My darling, my honey, my pretty, sweet boy;Before I do rock thee with soft lullaby,Give me thy dear lips to be kiss'd, kiss'd, kiss'd.

Good-night Baby

Baby, baby, lay your headOn your pretty cradle bed;Shut your eye-peeps, now the dayAnd the light are gone away;All the clothes are tucked in tight,Little baby, dear, good night.

Lie still with Daddy.

Hush thee, my babby,Lie still with thy daddy,Thy mammy has gone to the mill,To grind thee some wheat,To make thee some meat,And so, my babby, lie still.

Monkey feeding Baby.Oh, my lady! my lady! my lady!Here's that funny monkeyHas put on your night-cap,And is feedingThe baby! the baby! the baby!Baby getting upBaby, baby ope your eye,For the sun is in the sky,And he's peeping once againThrough the pretty window pane:Little baby, do not keepAny longer fast asleep.Washing Baby's HandsWash hands, wash,Daddy's gone to plough;If you want your hands wash'd,Have them washed now.Combing Baby's HairComb hair, comb,Daddy's gone to plough;If you want your hair comb'dHave it combed now.Baby BrotherMy pretty baby-brotherIs six months old to-day,And though he cannot speak,He knows whate'er I say.Whenever I come near,He crows for very joy;And dearly do I love him,The darling baby-boy.BabyHe opens his mouth when he kisses you;He cries very loud when he misses you;He says "Boo! boo! boo!" for "How-do-you-do?"And he strokes down your face when he's loving you.Learning to walk aloneCome, my darling, come away,Take a pretty walk to-day;Run along, and never fear,I'll take care of baby dear;Up and down with little feet,That's the way to walk, my sweet.See-SawSee-saw sacradown,Which is the way to London town,One foot up is the other down,That is the way to London town.Naughty BabyBaby, baby Charlie,Naughty in his play,Slapping little Annie,Pushing her away.Patting with his soft hands,Laughing in his fun;Slapping with such good-will,That the tear-drops run.Do not cry, dear Annie,Wipe away the tear;Keep away from Charlie,Do not come so near,Or his little hands willPull your curly hair;Peep at baby, Annie—Peep behind the chair.Kiss the baby, darling,Kiss the little one;He is only playing,In his baby fun.

Monkey feeding Baby.

Oh, my lady! my lady! my lady!Here's that funny monkeyHas put on your night-cap,And is feedingThe baby! the baby! the baby!

Baby getting up

Baby, baby ope your eye,For the sun is in the sky,And he's peeping once againThrough the pretty window pane:Little baby, do not keepAny longer fast asleep.

Washing Baby's Hands

Wash hands, wash,Daddy's gone to plough;If you want your hands wash'd,Have them washed now.

Combing Baby's Hair

Comb hair, comb,Daddy's gone to plough;If you want your hair comb'dHave it combed now.

Baby Brother

My pretty baby-brotherIs six months old to-day,And though he cannot speak,He knows whate'er I say.

Whenever I come near,He crows for very joy;And dearly do I love him,The darling baby-boy.

Baby

He opens his mouth when he kisses you;He cries very loud when he misses you;He says "Boo! boo! boo!" for "How-do-you-do?"And he strokes down your face when he's loving you.

Learning to walk alone

Come, my darling, come away,Take a pretty walk to-day;Run along, and never fear,I'll take care of baby dear;Up and down with little feet,That's the way to walk, my sweet.

See-Saw

See-saw sacradown,Which is the way to London town,One foot up is the other down,That is the way to London town.

Naughty Baby

Baby, baby Charlie,Naughty in his play,Slapping little Annie,Pushing her away.

Patting with his soft hands,Laughing in his fun;Slapping with such good-will,That the tear-drops run.

Do not cry, dear Annie,Wipe away the tear;Keep away from Charlie,Do not come so near,

Or his little hands willPull your curly hair;Peep at baby, Annie—Peep behind the chair.

Kiss the baby, darling,Kiss the little one;He is only playing,In his baby fun.

Previous-Index-Next

Tom Thumb's AlphabetA was an archer, who shot at a frog;B was a butcher, who had a great dog;C was a captain, all covered with lace;D was a drunkard, and had a red face;E was an esquire, with pride on his brow;F was a farmer, who followed the plough;G was a gamer, who had but ill luck;H was a hunter, and hunted a buck;I was an innkeeper, who loved to bouse;J was a joiner, and built up a house;K was King William, once governed this land;L was a lady, who had a white hand;M was a miser, and hoarded up gold:N was a nobleman, gallant and bold;O was an oyster girl, and went about town;P was a parson, and wore a black gown;Q was a queen, who wore a silk slip;R was a robber, and wanted a whip;S was a sailor, and spent all he got;T was a tinker, and mended a pot;U was an usurer, a miserable elf;V was a vintner, who drank all himself;W was a watchman, and guarded the door;X was expensive, and so became poor;Y was a youth, that did not love school;Z was a Zany, a poor harmless fool;Sing a Song-a-SixpenceSing a song-a-sixpence,A pocket full of rye;Four-and-twenty blackbirdsBaked in a pie;When the pie was openedThe birds began to sing:Was that not a dainty dishTo set before the king?The king was in his counting-house,Counting out his money,The queen was in the parlour,Eating bread and honey;The maid was in the garden,Hanging out the clothes;Down came a blackbird,And snapt off her nose.Old Chairs to MendIf I'd as much money as I could spend,I never would cry old chairs to mend;Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend;I never would cry old chairs to mend.If I'd as much money as I could tell,I never would cry old clothes to sell;Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell;I never would cry old clothes to sell.Dad's gane to PlooCock-a-doodle-doo,My dad's gane to ploo;Mammy's lost her pudding-pokeAnd knows not what to do.Hot Cross BunsHot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns!One a penny, two a penny,Hot-cross buns!Hot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns!If you have no daughters,Give them to your sons.Rabbit PieRabbit, rabbit, rabbit-pie!Come, my ladies, come and buy;Else your babies they will cry.Baker With Pie.

Tom Thumb's Alphabet

A was an archer, who shot at a frog;B was a butcher, who had a great dog;C was a captain, all covered with lace;D was a drunkard, and had a red face;E was an esquire, with pride on his brow;F was a farmer, who followed the plough;G was a gamer, who had but ill luck;H was a hunter, and hunted a buck;I was an innkeeper, who loved to bouse;J was a joiner, and built up a house;K was King William, once governed this land;L was a lady, who had a white hand;M was a miser, and hoarded up gold:N was a nobleman, gallant and bold;O was an oyster girl, and went about town;P was a parson, and wore a black gown;Q was a queen, who wore a silk slip;R was a robber, and wanted a whip;S was a sailor, and spent all he got;T was a tinker, and mended a pot;U was an usurer, a miserable elf;V was a vintner, who drank all himself;W was a watchman, and guarded the door;X was expensive, and so became poor;Y was a youth, that did not love school;Z was a Zany, a poor harmless fool;

Sing a Song-a-Sixpence

Sing a song-a-sixpence,A pocket full of rye;Four-and-twenty blackbirdsBaked in a pie;When the pie was openedThe birds began to sing:Was that not a dainty dishTo set before the king?The king was in his counting-house,Counting out his money,The queen was in the parlour,Eating bread and honey;The maid was in the garden,Hanging out the clothes;Down came a blackbird,And snapt off her nose.

Old Chairs to Mend

If I'd as much money as I could spend,I never would cry old chairs to mend;Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend;I never would cry old chairs to mend.If I'd as much money as I could tell,I never would cry old clothes to sell;Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell;I never would cry old clothes to sell.

Dad's gane to Ploo

Cock-a-doodle-doo,My dad's gane to ploo;Mammy's lost her pudding-pokeAnd knows not what to do.

Hot Cross Buns

Hot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns!One a penny, two a penny,Hot-cross buns!Hot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns!If you have no daughters,Give them to your sons.

Rabbit Pie

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit-pie!Come, my ladies, come and buy;Else your babies they will cry.

A—Apple-PieA apple pie;B bit it;C cut it;D danced for it;E eat it;F fought for it;G got it;H had it;I ignored it;J jumped for it;K kept it;L longed for it;M mourned for it;N nodded at it;O opened it;P peeped in it;Q quartered it;R ran for it;S stole it;T took it;U uncovered it;V viewed it;W wanted it;X ax'ed for it;Y yawned for it:Z cried, "Zounds! let's eat it up."Three Men in a TubRub a dub, dub,Three men in a tub;And who do you think they were?The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,They all came out of a rotten potato.DinnerHey ding a ding, what shall I sing?How many holes in a skimmer?Four-and-twenty, my stomach is empty;Pray mamma, give me some dinner.The BarberBarber, barber, shave a pig,How many hairs will make a wig?"Four-and-twenty, that's enough,"Give the barber a pinch of snuff.Punch and JudyPunch and Judy fought for a pie;Punch gave Judy a blow on the eye.Pease PuddingPease pudding hot,Pease pudding cold,Pease pudding in the pot,Nine days old.PorridgeA little bit of powdered beef,And a great net of cabbage,The best meal I have to-dayIs a good bowl of porridge.ShavingThe barber shaved the mason,As I suppose cut of his nose,And popp'd it in a basin.Captain DuckI saw a ship a-sailing,A-sailing on the sea;And, oh! it was all ladenWith pretty things for thee.There were comfits in the cabin,And apples in the holds;The sails were made of silk,And the masts were made of gold.The four-and-twenty sailorsThat 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 said "Quack quack!"Little Tee WeeLittle Tee Wee' he went to seaIn an open boat; and while afloatThe little boat bended,And my story's ended.

A—Apple-Pie

A apple pie;B bit it;C cut it;D danced for it;E eat it;F fought for it;G got it;H had it;I ignored it;J jumped for it;K kept it;L longed for it;M mourned for it;N nodded at it;O opened it;P peeped in it;Q quartered it;R ran for it;S stole it;T took it;U uncovered it;V viewed it;W wanted it;X ax'ed for it;Y yawned for it:Z cried, "Zounds! let's eat it up."

Three Men in a Tub

Rub a dub, dub,Three men in a tub;And who do you think they were?The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,They all came out of a rotten potato.

Dinner

Hey ding a ding, what shall I sing?How many holes in a skimmer?Four-and-twenty, my stomach is empty;Pray mamma, give me some dinner.

The Barber

Barber, barber, shave a pig,How many hairs will make a wig?"Four-and-twenty, that's enough,"Give the barber a pinch of snuff.

Punch and Judy

Punch and Judy fought for a pie;Punch gave Judy a blow on the eye.

Pease Pudding

Pease pudding hot,Pease pudding cold,Pease pudding in the pot,Nine days old.

Porridge

A little bit of powdered beef,And a great net of cabbage,The best meal I have to-dayIs a good bowl of porridge.

Shaving

The barber shaved the mason,As I suppose cut of his nose,And popp'd it in a basin.

Captain Duck

I saw a ship a-sailing,A-sailing on the sea;And, oh! it was all ladenWith pretty things for thee.There were comfits in the cabin,And apples in the holds;The sails were made of silk,And the masts were made of gold.The four-and-twenty sailorsThat 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 said "Quack quack!"

Little Tee Wee

Little Tee Wee' he went to seaIn an open boat; and while afloatThe little boat bended,And my story's ended.

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Jack be QuickJack be nimble, and Jack be quick;And Jack jump over the candle-stick.Jack SpratJack Sprat had a cat,It had but one ear;It went to buy butterWhen butter was dear.Jack HornerLittle Jack Horner sat in the corner,Eating a Christmas Pie;He put in his thumb, and he took out a plum,And said, "What a good boy am I!"Tom TuckerLittle Tom TuckerSings for his supper;What shall he eat?White bread and butter.How shall he cut itWithout e'er a knife?How will he be marriedWithout e'er a wife?Georgie PorgieGeorgie Porgie, pudding and pie,Kissed the girls and made them cry.When the girls came out to playGeorgie Porgie ran away.See-SawSee-saw, Margery Daw,Little Jacky shall have a new master;Little Jacky shall have but a penny a day,Because he can't work any faster.Little LadLittle lad, little lad, where wast thou born?Far off in Lancashire, under a thorn,Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn.Jack-a-DandyHandy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy,Loved plum-cake and sugar-candy;He bought some at a grocer's shop,And out he came, hop, hop, hop.My Son JohnDeedle, deedle, dumpling, my son JohnWent to bed with his stockings on;One shoe off, the other shoe on.Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son JohnJack and JillJack and Jill went up the hill,To fetch a pail of water;Jack fell down and broke his crown,And Jill came tumbling after.Who Can Draw BestWillie drew a little pig,Harry drew a mouse,Tommy drew a ladder tallLeaning on a house.Baa, Baa Black SheepBaa, baa, black sheep,Have you any wool?Yes, marry have I,Three bags full:One for my master,And one for my dame,But none for the little boyWho cries in the lane.Cat With Fiddle.

Jack be Quick

Jack be nimble, and Jack be quick;And Jack jump over the candle-stick.

Jack Sprat

Jack Sprat had a cat,It had but one ear;It went to buy butterWhen butter was dear.

Jack Horner

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner,Eating a Christmas Pie;He put in his thumb, and he took out a plum,And said, "What a good boy am I!"

Tom Tucker

Little Tom TuckerSings for his supper;What shall he eat?White bread and butter.How shall he cut itWithout e'er a knife?How will he be marriedWithout e'er a wife?

Georgie Porgie

Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie,Kissed the girls and made them cry.When the girls came out to playGeorgie Porgie ran away.

See-Saw

See-saw, Margery Daw,Little Jacky shall have a new master;Little Jacky shall have but a penny a day,Because he can't work any faster.

Little Lad

Little lad, little lad, where wast thou born?Far off in Lancashire, under a thorn,Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn.

Jack-a-Dandy

Handy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy,Loved plum-cake and sugar-candy;He bought some at a grocer's shop,And out he came, hop, hop, hop.

My Son John

Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son JohnWent to bed with his stockings on;One shoe off, the other shoe on.Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son John

Jack and Jill

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.

Who Can Draw Best

Willie drew a little pig,Harry drew a mouse,Tommy drew a ladder tallLeaning on a house.

Baa, Baa Black Sheep

Baa, baa, black sheep,Have you any wool?Yes, marry have I,Three bags full:One for my master,And one for my dame,But none for the little boyWho cries in the lane.

Hey diddle diddleHey 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 after the spoon.The Quaker's Version"Hey! diddle diddle,The cat and the fiddle,The cow jumped under the moon;The little dog barkedto see such sportAnd the cat ran after the spoon!"[*]

Hey diddle diddle

Hey 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 after the spoon.

The Quaker's Version

"Hey! diddle diddle,The cat and the fiddle,The cow jumped under the moon;The little dog barkedto see such sportAnd the cat ran after the spoon!"[*]

[*]Our friend, the Quaker, holds that the last verse is the proper one, as it is the truest; but the wonderful is taken out of it, and children, accordingly, prefer the first. There is nothing wonderful in the cow jumping "under" the moon, but there is in the cow jumping "over" the moon, so with the black-birds baked in a pie. It is the fact of their singing when the pie is opened that pleases the children—'twas the wonder of the thing; so with the freaks of Mother Hubbard's Dog, etc. In nearly all nursery rhymes it is the ludicrous and wonderful that arrests the attention and pleases.E. W. ColeFrightened BoyThere was a little boy, went into a barn,And lay down on some hay;An owl came out, and flew about,And the little boy ran away.Frightened BoysTweedle-dum and tweedle-deeResolved to have a battle,For tweedle-dum said tweedle-deeHad 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.Baked in a PieBaby and IWere baked in a pie,The gravy was wonderful hot;We had nothing to payTo the baker that dayAnd so we crept out of the pot.Maid not at HomeHigh diddle doubt, my candle's out,My little maid is not at home;Saddle my hog, and bridle my dog,And fetch my little maid home.Dame not at HomeRowsty dowt, my fire's all out,My little dame is not at home;I'll saddle my goose and bridle my hen,And fetch my little dame home again;Home she came, tritty trot;And asked for the porridge she left in the pot.All in the DumpsWe're all in the dumps,For diamonds are trumps;The kittens are gone to St. Paul's!The babies are bit,The moon's in a fit,And the houses are built without walls.Hot RollsBlow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!That the miller may grind his corn;That the baker may take it,And into rolls make it,And send us some hot in the morn.Rosemary green,And lavender blue,Thyme and sweet marjoram,Hyssop and rue.Bed TimeCome, let's to bed, says Sleepy-headTarry a while says Slow;Put on the pot, says Greedy-Jock,Let's sup before we go.Go to Bed FirstGo to bed first,A golden purse;Go to bed second,A golden Pheasant;Go to bed third,A golden bird.

Frightened Boy

There was a little boy, went into a barn,And lay down on some hay;An owl came out, and flew about,And the little boy ran away.

Frightened Boys

Tweedle-dum and tweedle-deeResolved to have a battle,For tweedle-dum said tweedle-deeHad 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.

Baked in a Pie

Baby and IWere baked in a pie,The gravy was wonderful hot;We had nothing to payTo the baker that dayAnd so we crept out of the pot.

Maid not at Home

High diddle doubt, my candle's out,My little maid is not at home;Saddle my hog, and bridle my dog,And fetch my little maid home.

Dame not at Home

Rowsty dowt, my fire's all out,My little dame is not at home;I'll saddle my goose and bridle my hen,And fetch my little dame home again;Home she came, tritty trot;And asked for the porridge she left in the pot.

All in the Dumps

We're all in the dumps,For diamonds are trumps;The kittens are gone to St. Paul's!The babies are bit,The moon's in a fit,And the houses are built without walls.

Hot Rolls

Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!That the miller may grind his corn;That the baker may take it,And into rolls make it,And send us some hot in the morn.Rosemary green,And lavender blue,Thyme and sweet marjoram,Hyssop and rue.

Bed Time

Come, let's to bed, says Sleepy-headTarry a while says Slow;Put on the pot, says Greedy-Jock,Let's sup before we go.

Go to Bed First

Go to bed first,A golden purse;Go to bed second,A golden Pheasant;Go to bed third,A golden bird.

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The three Cry-Babies.

Cry-Baby BelleCry-baby BelleIs always in tearsNothing you can give her can ease her!Sugar and spice,And everything nice,Kisses and cakes will not please her.She'll cry if she happensTo get a slight fall,She'll cry if the naughty boys tease her;She'll cry for a spoon,And she'll cry for the moon;So there's no use in trying to please her.If the food set before herDon't happen to suit—Oh, then just as loud as she's able,This cry-baby BelleWill set up a yell,And scare all the folks at the table.If she wants to go outIn the street she will cry;If she wants to come in how she screeches!For nothing at allShe will set up and bawl,Unmindful of comforting speeches,She screams in the morningBecause she's not dress'd;And at night when they want to undress herMore loudly she'll roar,And roll over the floorAs if she had pains to distress her.She cries when she's sick,And she cries when she's well,And often cries when she's sleeping,So that heavy and red,And most out of her headAre her eyes, on account of such weeping.She always is fretful,Unhappy, and cross,No matter what she may be doing,And cry-baby BellePleases nobody wellBecause of her constant boo-hooing.For a Naughty Little GirlMy sweet little girl should be careful and mild,And should not be fretful, and cry!Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child,God sees you, who lives in the sky.That dear little face, which I like so to kiss,How frightful and sad it appears!Do you think I can love you, so naughty as this,Or kiss you so wetted with tears?Remember, tho' God is in heaven, my love,He sees you within and without,And he always looks down from His glory above,To notice what you are about.If I am not with you, or if it be dark,And nobody is in the way,His eye is as able your doings to mark,In the night as it is in the day.Then dry up your tears, and look smiling againAnd never do things that are wrong;For I'm sure you must feel it a terrible pain,To be naughty, and crying so long.Paulina PryPaulina PryWould eat nothing but pie;Pie was her daily diet;Apple or plum,She must have someOr else she wouldn't be quiet.She would not eatAny bread or meat,Though plenty of these were handy,But would pout and cryFor a piece of pie,Or a stick of sugar-candy.They heard her cryIn the Land of Pie,And sent her dozens and dozens,Both tender and tough,Till she'd had more than enoughFor her sisters, her aunts and her cousins.Tearful AnniePoor little Annie, you will find,Is very gentle, good, and kind,But soon a a fault appears.The slightest thing will give her pain,Her feelings she can ne'er restrain,But gives way to her tears.The other day when Ferdinand—And if you search throughout the land,No nicer boy you'll find—Said something which he never meantTo cause the slightest discontent,For hours she sobbed and whined.Her father grieved, said: "This must ceaseWe never have a moment's peace,She cries both day and night."A portrait painter then he paid,To paint his little tearful maid,Crying with all her might.He set to work that very day,Directly he received his pay;The picture soon was done.Yes, there she was, all sobs and sighs,Large tear-drops streaming from her eyes."How like!" said every one.It was in truth a great success;Quite perfect, neither more nor less;Her father was so glad.He hung the portrait in her room;It filled her with the deepest gloom;She felt annoyed and sad.With every relative who came,And saw the picture, 'twas the same,All startled with affright.Uncles, and aunts, and cousins too,Found it so striking, life-like, trueThat soon they took to flight.Annie not long could this endure;It brought about a speedy cure,She ceased to cry and moan.Her father ceased to scold and frown,He had the picture taken down,And in the garret thrown.Tearful Annie's Likeness.

Cry-Baby Belle

Cry-baby BelleIs always in tearsNothing you can give her can ease her!Sugar and spice,And everything nice,Kisses and cakes will not please her.

She'll cry if she happensTo get a slight fall,She'll cry if the naughty boys tease her;She'll cry for a spoon,And she'll cry for the moon;So there's no use in trying to please her.

If the food set before herDon't happen to suit—Oh, then just as loud as she's able,This cry-baby BelleWill set up a yell,And scare all the folks at the table.

If she wants to go outIn the street she will cry;If she wants to come in how she screeches!For nothing at allShe will set up and bawl,Unmindful of comforting speeches,

She screams in the morningBecause she's not dress'd;And at night when they want to undress herMore loudly she'll roar,And roll over the floorAs if she had pains to distress her.

She cries when she's sick,And she cries when she's well,And often cries when she's sleeping,So that heavy and red,And most out of her headAre her eyes, on account of such weeping.

She always is fretful,Unhappy, and cross,No matter what she may be doing,And cry-baby BellePleases nobody wellBecause of her constant boo-hooing.

For a Naughty Little Girl

My sweet little girl should be careful and mild,And should not be fretful, and cry!Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child,God sees you, who lives in the sky.

That dear little face, which I like so to kiss,How frightful and sad it appears!Do you think I can love you, so naughty as this,Or kiss you so wetted with tears?

Remember, tho' God is in heaven, my love,He sees you within and without,And he always looks down from His glory above,To notice what you are about.

If I am not with you, or if it be dark,And nobody is in the way,His eye is as able your doings to mark,In the night as it is in the day.

Then dry up your tears, and look smiling againAnd never do things that are wrong;For I'm sure you must feel it a terrible pain,To be naughty, and crying so long.

Paulina Pry

Paulina PryWould eat nothing but pie;Pie was her daily diet;Apple or plum,She must have someOr else she wouldn't be quiet.

She would not eatAny bread or meat,Though plenty of these were handy,But would pout and cryFor a piece of pie,Or a stick of sugar-candy.

They heard her cryIn the Land of Pie,And sent her dozens and dozens,Both tender and tough,Till she'd had more than enoughFor her sisters, her aunts and her cousins.

Tearful Annie

Poor little Annie, you will find,Is very gentle, good, and kind,But soon a a fault appears.The slightest thing will give her pain,Her feelings she can ne'er restrain,But gives way to her tears.

The other day when Ferdinand—And if you search throughout the land,No nicer boy you'll find—Said something which he never meantTo cause the slightest discontent,For hours she sobbed and whined.

Her father grieved, said: "This must ceaseWe never have a moment's peace,She cries both day and night."A portrait painter then he paid,To paint his little tearful maid,Crying with all her might.

He set to work that very day,Directly he received his pay;The picture soon was done.Yes, there she was, all sobs and sighs,Large tear-drops streaming from her eyes."How like!" said every one.

It was in truth a great success;Quite perfect, neither more nor less;Her father was so glad.He hung the portrait in her room;It filled her with the deepest gloom;She felt annoyed and sad.

With every relative who came,And saw the picture, 'twas the same,All startled with affright.Uncles, and aunts, and cousins too,Found it so striking, life-like, trueThat soon they took to flight.

Annie not long could this endure;It brought about a speedy cure,She ceased to cry and moan.Her father ceased to scold and frown,He had the picture taken down,And in the garret thrown.

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Our Christmas Hamper.

Hattie's BirthdayOh! This is a happy, beautiful world!My heart is light and gay;The birds in the trees sing blithely to meAnd I'm six years old to-day.Yes, six, and father has bought me a book,And mother, the sweetest doll,All dressed in white with blue eyes bright,And the nicest hat and shawl.My kitty sat quietly near the fireAs Dolly and I came by;Miss Dolly bowed, and pussy meowed,And opened her yellow eye.Ah me! if Kit could only talk,And Dolly could but chat,We'd social be as any three—Talk, sing, and all of that.I dressed all up in grandma's cap,And put on her glasses too;"Why, Grandma!" I said, as I looked at myself,"I'm almost as old as you."My mother softly kissed my cheek,And then she blessed me too,Praying that I, as years went by,Might be as good and true.My birthday song is a merry one,And my heart is warm and light;Kind father, mother, and dear grandma,Sweet dolly and pussy, good night.Youth and AgeA funny thing I heard to-day,I might as well relate.Our Lil is six, and little MayStill lacks a month of eight.And, through the open play-room door,I heard the elder say:"Lil, run downstairs and get my doll;Go quick, now—right away!"And Lillie said—(and I agreedThat May was hardly fair):—"You might say 'please,' or go yourself—I didn't leave it there.""But, Lillie," urged the elder one,"Your little legs, you know,Are younger than mine are, child,And so you ought to go!"Children"I would not be a girl," said Jack,"Because they have no fun;They cannot go a-fishing, norA-shooting with a gun;They cannot climb up trees for fruit,Nor bathe without a bathing dress,Which is no fun at all.""I would not be a boy," said May,"For boys are nasty things,With pockets filled with hooks and knives,And nails, and tops and stringsAnd when a boy becomes a man,He's got to buy girls rings;"A Lost Child"I'm losted! Could you find me, please?"Poor little frightened baby!The wind had tossed her golden fleece,The stones had scratched her dimpled knees,I stooped and lifted her with ease,And softly whispered "Maybe.""Tell me your name, my little maid:I can't find you without it.""My name is Shiny-eyes," she said,"Yes; but your last name?" She shook her head:"Up to my house 'ey never saidA single word about it.""But, dear," I said, "what is your name?""Why, didn't you hear me told you?Dust Shiny-eyes." A bright thought came:"Yes, when you're good. But when they blameYou little one,—is it just the sameWhen mamma has to scold you?""My mamma never scolds," she moans,A little blush ensuing,"'Cept when I've been a-frowing stones;And then she says (the culprit owns),—Mehitabel Sapphira Jones.What has you been a-doing?"Anna E. BurnhamLittle MaryHere stands little, little Mary,With her face of winning grace,Chattering tongue that runs apace,And her ways contraryWho so gay as Mary?With her laughs of rippling gleeBrimming o'er with melody,—Bonny, blithesome Mary.Household pet is Mary—Such a merry, joyous sprite,Filling all our home with light—Pretty winsome Mary!Mischief-loving Mary,Busy as the busiest bee,Full of sunshine, life, and gleeIs our heart's sweet Mary!Girl and AngelAs Peter sat at Heaven's gateA maiden sought permission,And begged of him, if not too late,To give her free admission."What claim hast thou to enter here?"He cried with earnest mien."Please sir," said she, 'twixt hope and fear,"I'm only just sixteen!""Enough," the hoary guardian said,And the gate wide open threw."That is the age when every maidIs girl and angel too."Our Country Cousin.

Hattie's Birthday

Oh! This is a happy, beautiful world!My heart is light and gay;The birds in the trees sing blithely to meAnd I'm six years old to-day.

Yes, six, and father has bought me a book,And mother, the sweetest doll,All dressed in white with blue eyes bright,And the nicest hat and shawl.

My kitty sat quietly near the fireAs Dolly and I came by;Miss Dolly bowed, and pussy meowed,And opened her yellow eye.

Ah me! if Kit could only talk,And Dolly could but chat,We'd social be as any three—Talk, sing, and all of that.

I dressed all up in grandma's cap,And put on her glasses too;"Why, Grandma!" I said, as I looked at myself,"I'm almost as old as you."

My mother softly kissed my cheek,And then she blessed me too,Praying that I, as years went by,Might be as good and true.

My birthday song is a merry one,And my heart is warm and light;Kind father, mother, and dear grandma,Sweet dolly and pussy, good night.

Youth and Age

A funny thing I heard to-day,I might as well relate.Our Lil is six, and little MayStill lacks a month of eight.

And, through the open play-room door,I heard the elder say:"Lil, run downstairs and get my doll;Go quick, now—right away!"

And Lillie said—(and I agreedThat May was hardly fair):—"You might say 'please,' or go yourself—I didn't leave it there."

"But, Lillie," urged the elder one,"Your little legs, you know,Are younger than mine are, child,And so you ought to go!"

Children

"I would not be a girl," said Jack,"Because they have no fun;They cannot go a-fishing, norA-shooting with a gun;They cannot climb up trees for fruit,Nor bathe without a bathing dress,Which is no fun at all."

"I would not be a boy," said May,"For boys are nasty things,With pockets filled with hooks and knives,And nails, and tops and stringsAnd when a boy becomes a man,He's got to buy girls rings;"

A Lost Child

"I'm losted! Could you find me, please?"Poor little frightened baby!The wind had tossed her golden fleece,The stones had scratched her dimpled knees,I stooped and lifted her with ease,And softly whispered "Maybe."

"Tell me your name, my little maid:I can't find you without it.""My name is Shiny-eyes," she said,"Yes; but your last name?" She shook her head:"Up to my house 'ey never saidA single word about it."

"But, dear," I said, "what is your name?""Why, didn't you hear me told you?Dust Shiny-eyes." A bright thought came:"Yes, when you're good. But when they blameYou little one,—is it just the sameWhen mamma has to scold you?"

"My mamma never scolds," she moans,A little blush ensuing,"'Cept when I've been a-frowing stones;And then she says (the culprit owns),—Mehitabel Sapphira Jones.What has you been a-doing?"

Anna E. Burnham

Little Mary

Here stands little, little Mary,With her face of winning grace,Chattering tongue that runs apace,And her ways contrary

Who so gay as Mary?With her laughs of rippling gleeBrimming o'er with melody,—Bonny, blithesome Mary.

Household pet is Mary—Such a merry, joyous sprite,Filling all our home with light—Pretty winsome Mary!

Mischief-loving Mary,Busy as the busiest bee,Full of sunshine, life, and gleeIs our heart's sweet Mary!

Girl and Angel

As Peter sat at Heaven's gateA maiden sought permission,And begged of him, if not too late,To give her free admission.

"What claim hast thou to enter here?"He cried with earnest mien."Please sir," said she, 'twixt hope and fear,"I'm only just sixteen!"

"Enough," the hoary guardian said,And the gate wide open threw."That is the age when every maidIs girl and angel too."

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Girl Who Wouldn't Go to BedOnce I knew a little girl,Who wouldn't go to bed,And in the morning always hadA very sleepy head.At night she'd stop upon the stairs,And hold the railings tightThen with a puff she'd try to blowOut Mary Ann's rushlight.The bed at last they tuck'd her in,The light she vow'd to keep;Left in the dark she roar'd and cried;Till tired she went to sleep.Little Girl that Beat her SisterGo, go, my naughty girl, and kissYour little sister dear;I must not have such things as this,Nor noisy quarrels here.What! little children scold and fightWho ought to be so mild;Oh! Mary, 'tis a shocking sightTo see an angry child.I can't imagine for my part,The reason of your folly,As if she did you any hurtBy playing with your dolly.Children Should not QuarrelLet dogs delight to bark an bite,For God hath made them so;Let bears and lions growl and fight:For 'tis their nature to.But children you should never letSuch angry passions rise;Your little hands were never madeTo tear each other's eyes.The Sulky GirlWhy is Mary standing there,Leaning down upon the chair,With pouting lip and frowning brow?I wonder what's the matter now.Come here, my dear, and tell me true,Is it because I spoke to youAbout what you just now had done,That you are such a naughty one?When, then, indeed, I'm grieved to seeThat you can so ill-tempered be:You make your faults a great deal worseBy being sulky and perverse.Oh! how much better it appears,To see you melting into tears,And then to hear you humbly say,"I'll not do so another day!"The Little Girl that did not Like to be WashedWhat! cry when I wash you! not love to be clean?There, go and be dirty, unfit to be seen;And till you leave off, and I see you have smiled,I'll not take the trouble to wash such a child.The Girl who Sucked her FingersA little girl, named Mary Kate,Whom you may have chance to see,Would have been loved by small and great,But for one thing, which I'll relate;So listen now to me.A silly habit she's acquiredOf putting in her mouth,The pretty fingers of her hand,And sucking them, for hours she'd stand,In a manner most uncouth.Her play-companions used to laugh,And jeeringly would say,"Oh, pray bring Mary Kate some crumbs,Poor thing! she's dining off her thumbs,She'll eat them all away."Girl Stealing Treacle.

Girl Who Wouldn't Go to Bed

Once I knew a little girl,Who wouldn't go to bed,And in the morning always hadA very sleepy head.

At night she'd stop upon the stairs,And hold the railings tightThen with a puff she'd try to blowOut Mary Ann's rushlight.

The bed at last they tuck'd her in,The light she vow'd to keep;Left in the dark she roar'd and cried;Till tired she went to sleep.

Little Girl that Beat her Sister

Go, go, my naughty girl, and kissYour little sister dear;I must not have such things as this,Nor noisy quarrels here.

What! little children scold and fightWho ought to be so mild;Oh! Mary, 'tis a shocking sightTo see an angry child.

I can't imagine for my part,The reason of your folly,As if she did you any hurtBy playing with your dolly.

Children Should not Quarrel

Let dogs delight to bark an bite,For God hath made them so;Let bears and lions growl and fight:For 'tis their nature to.

But children you should never letSuch angry passions rise;Your little hands were never madeTo tear each other's eyes.

The Sulky Girl

Why is Mary standing there,Leaning down upon the chair,With pouting lip and frowning brow?I wonder what's the matter now.

Come here, my dear, and tell me true,Is it because I spoke to youAbout what you just now had done,That you are such a naughty one?

When, then, indeed, I'm grieved to seeThat you can so ill-tempered be:You make your faults a great deal worseBy being sulky and perverse.

Oh! how much better it appears,To see you melting into tears,And then to hear you humbly say,"I'll not do so another day!"

The Little Girl that did not Like to be Washed

What! cry when I wash you! not love to be clean?There, go and be dirty, unfit to be seen;And till you leave off, and I see you have smiled,I'll not take the trouble to wash such a child.

The Girl who Sucked her Fingers

A little girl, named Mary Kate,Whom you may have chance to see,Would have been loved by small and great,But for one thing, which I'll relate;So listen now to me.

A silly habit she's acquiredOf putting in her mouth,The pretty fingers of her hand,And sucking them, for hours she'd stand,In a manner most uncouth.

Her play-companions used to laugh,And jeeringly would say,"Oh, pray bring Mary Kate some crumbs,Poor thing! she's dining off her thumbs,She'll eat them all away."

Girl Stealing TreacleThis is Nelly Pilfer;I'll tell you what she earnedBy stealing off the treacleWhen Mary's back was turned.They caught the greedy NellyWith treacle on her hand,They put her in the corner,And there they made her stand.The Girl who Soiled her ClothesLittle Polly Flinders,Sat among the cinders,Warming her pretty toes;Her mother came and caught her,And scolded her little daughter,For spoiling her nice new clothes.The Greedy Little GirlI knew a greedy little girl,Who all day long did roar;Whatever toys were given her,She always wanted more.Five dolls she had—one was black,A ball and battledore,But held them all so very tight,The roar'd and scream'd for more.Now this was wicked of the child,As everyone must own;So for the whole of one long dayThey shut her up alone.The Girl Who Played with FireMamma, a little girl I met,Had such a scar, I can't forget!All down her arms and neck and face;I could not bear to see the place.Poor little girl! and don't you knowThe shocking trick that made her so?'Twas all because she went and didA thing her mother had forbid.For once, when nobody was by her,This silly child would play with fire;And long before her mother came,Her pinafore was all in flame.In vain she tried to put it out,Till all her clothes were burnt about;And then she suffer'd ten times more,All over with a dreadful sore.For many months before 'twas cured,Both day and night the pain endured;And still you see, when passing by her,How sad it is to play with fire.Little Miss ConsequenceLittle Miss Consequence strutted about,Turned up her nose, pointed her toes,And thought herself quite a grand person, no doubt.Gave herself airs; took many cares,To appear old; was haughty and cold.She spoke to the servants like a dog or a catAnd fussed about this, and fussed about that.The Vulgar Little Lady"But, mamma, now," said Charlotte, "pray don't you believeThat I'm better than Jenny my nurse?Only see my red shoes, and the lace on my sleeve;Her clothes are a thousand times worse."I ride in my coach, and have nothing to do.And the country folks stare at me so;And nobody dares to control me but you,Because I'm a lady, you know."Then servants are vulgar and I am genteel;So, really, 'tis out of the way,To think that I should not be better a dealThan maids, and such people as they.""Gentility, Charlotte," her mother replied,"Belongs to no station or place;And nothing's so vulgar as folly and pride,Though dressed in red slippers and lace."Not all the fine things that fine ladies possessShould teach them the poor to despise;For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress,That the truest gentility lies."

Girl Stealing Treacle

This is Nelly Pilfer;I'll tell you what she earnedBy stealing off the treacleWhen Mary's back was turned.

They caught the greedy NellyWith treacle on her hand,They put her in the corner,And there they made her stand.

The Girl who Soiled her Clothes

Little Polly Flinders,Sat among the cinders,Warming her pretty toes;Her mother came and caught her,And scolded her little daughter,For spoiling her nice new clothes.

The Greedy Little Girl

I knew a greedy little girl,Who all day long did roar;Whatever toys were given her,She always wanted more.

Five dolls she had—one was black,A ball and battledore,But held them all so very tight,The roar'd and scream'd for more.

Now this was wicked of the child,As everyone must own;So for the whole of one long dayThey shut her up alone.

The Girl Who Played with Fire

Mamma, a little girl I met,Had such a scar, I can't forget!All down her arms and neck and face;I could not bear to see the place.

Poor little girl! and don't you knowThe shocking trick that made her so?'Twas all because she went and didA thing her mother had forbid.

For once, when nobody was by her,This silly child would play with fire;And long before her mother came,Her pinafore was all in flame.

In vain she tried to put it out,Till all her clothes were burnt about;And then she suffer'd ten times more,All over with a dreadful sore.

For many months before 'twas cured,Both day and night the pain endured;And still you see, when passing by her,How sad it is to play with fire.

Little Miss Consequence

Little Miss Consequence strutted about,Turned up her nose, pointed her toes,And thought herself quite a grand person, no doubt.Gave herself airs; took many cares,To appear old; was haughty and cold.She spoke to the servants like a dog or a catAnd fussed about this, and fussed about that.

The Vulgar Little Lady

"But, mamma, now," said Charlotte, "pray don't you believeThat I'm better than Jenny my nurse?Only see my red shoes, and the lace on my sleeve;Her clothes are a thousand times worse.

"I ride in my coach, and have nothing to do.And the country folks stare at me so;And nobody dares to control me but you,Because I'm a lady, you know.

"Then servants are vulgar and I am genteel;So, really, 'tis out of the way,To think that I should not be better a dealThan maids, and such people as they."

"Gentility, Charlotte," her mother replied,"Belongs to no station or place;And nothing's so vulgar as folly and pride,Though dressed in red slippers and lace.

"Not all the fine things that fine ladies possessShould teach them the poor to despise;For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress,That the truest gentility lies."

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Girl Who Wouldn't be Dressed.

Naughty, Dirty Girl.

Peggy Won't"I won't be dressed, I won't, I won't!"Cried Peggy one morn to mamma."Very well, dear," was quietly said,"I'll teach you how silly you are."Peggy then frowned and set her lipsExpecting a kiss as of old,But mother had gravely walked away,And Peggy was getting so cold.The minutes passed, and Peggy sighed,For thoughts of her breakfast arose,And "Mammy, dear," she loudly wept,While stamping her bare little toes.Then mother came, and firmly said,"I'm taking you, dear, at your word;'I won't be dressed—I won't, I won't!'Has many times lately been heard."So now to bed, my little maid,For youwill notbe dressed to-day;Then Peggy will be taught to thinkBefore acting in such a way."Oh, for the tears that Peggy shed!But now every morn, I am told,A wee young maid is quietly dressed,And is always as good as gold.The Shadows"Mamma! I see somethingQuite dark on the wall;—It moves up and down,And it looks very strange!Sometimes it is large,And sometimes it is small;Pray, tell me what it is,And why does it change?""It is Mamma's shadowThat puzzles you so,And there is your ownClose beside it, my love!Now run round the room,It will go where you go;It rests where you sit,When you rise it will move."These wonderful shadowsAre caused by the lightFrom fire and from candlesUpon us that falls;If we were not here,All that place would be bright,But light can't shineThrough us to lighten the wall."And when you are outSome fine day in the sun,I'll take you where shadowsOf apple-trees lie;And houses and cottages too—Every oneRepose on their shadowsBeneath the bright sky."Now hold up your mouth,And give me a sweet kiss;Our shadows kiss too!—Don't you see it quite plain?""O yes! and I thank youFor telling me this,I'll not be afraidOf a shadow again."Mary LundieGirl in Disgrace.

Peggy Won't

"I won't be dressed, I won't, I won't!"Cried Peggy one morn to mamma."Very well, dear," was quietly said,"I'll teach you how silly you are."

Peggy then frowned and set her lipsExpecting a kiss as of old,But mother had gravely walked away,And Peggy was getting so cold.

The minutes passed, and Peggy sighed,For thoughts of her breakfast arose,And "Mammy, dear," she loudly wept,While stamping her bare little toes.

Then mother came, and firmly said,"I'm taking you, dear, at your word;'I won't be dressed—I won't, I won't!'Has many times lately been heard.

"So now to bed, my little maid,For youwill notbe dressed to-day;Then Peggy will be taught to thinkBefore acting in such a way."

Oh, for the tears that Peggy shed!But now every morn, I am told,A wee young maid is quietly dressed,And is always as good as gold.

The Shadows

"Mamma! I see somethingQuite dark on the wall;—It moves up and down,And it looks very strange!Sometimes it is large,And sometimes it is small;Pray, tell me what it is,And why does it change?"

"It is Mamma's shadowThat puzzles you so,And there is your ownClose beside it, my love!Now run round the room,It will go where you go;It rests where you sit,When you rise it will move.

"These wonderful shadowsAre caused by the lightFrom fire and from candlesUpon us that falls;If we were not here,All that place would be bright,But light can't shineThrough us to lighten the wall.

"And when you are outSome fine day in the sun,I'll take you where shadowsOf apple-trees lie;And houses and cottages too—Every oneRepose on their shadowsBeneath the bright sky.

"Now hold up your mouth,And give me a sweet kiss;Our shadows kiss too!—Don't you see it quite plain?""O yes! and I thank youFor telling me this,I'll not be afraidOf a shadow again."

Mary Lundie

Another Naughty Girl.

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Little Bo-PeepLittle Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,And can't tell where to find them;Leave them alone, and they'll come homeAnd bring their tails behind them.Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,And dreamed she heard them bleating,But when she awoke, 'twas all a joke—Alas! they still were fleeting.Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them, indeed, bit it made her heart bleed,They'd left their tails behind them.It happened one day, as Bo-Peep did strayOver the meadows hard by,That there she espied their tails side by side,All hung on a tree to dry.She heaved a sigh, and gave by-and-byEach careless sheep a banging;And as for the rest, she thought it was bestJust to leave their tails a-hanging.Mary's Little LambMary had a little lambWhose fleece was white as snow,And everywhere that Mary wentThat Lamb it would not go;So Mary took that little LambAnd put it on the spit,And soon it was so nicely doneShe ate it every bit.PemmyPemmy was a pretty girl,But Fanny was a better;Pemmy look'd like any churl,When little Fanny let her.Pemmy had a pretty nose,But Fanny had a better;Pemmy oft would come to blows,But Fanny would not let her.Pemmy had a pretty song,But Fanny had a better;Pemmy would sing all day long,But Fanny would not let her.Little HusbandI 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 bridled him, and saddled him,And sent him out of town.I gave him some garters,To garter up his hose,And a little handkerchief,To wipe his pretty nose.I'm GovernessNow children dear, you all come nearAnd do not make a noise;But listen here, just take and clearThat desk of all those toys.For now I'm Governess you'll find,That its myself will make you mind;So Alice Brown you do your sum,And Betty Snooks don't look so glum.And Sarah White sit down at once,And Susan Black you are a dunce,And Annie Grey you needn't thinkI didn't see you spill the ink.And find your thimble Maggie More,And mind your sewing Jennie Shore;And Linda Cole you know 'tis wrongTo make a stitch two inches long.I'm Governess.

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 homeAnd bring their tails behind them.

Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,And dreamed she heard them bleating,But when she awoke, 'twas all a joke—Alas! they still were fleeting.

Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them, indeed, bit it made her heart bleed,They'd left their tails behind them.

It happened one day, as Bo-Peep did strayOver the meadows hard by,That there she espied their tails side by side,All hung on a tree to dry.

She heaved a sigh, and gave by-and-byEach careless sheep a banging;And as for the rest, she thought it was bestJust to leave their tails a-hanging.

Mary's Little Lamb

Mary had a little lambWhose fleece was white as snow,And everywhere that Mary wentThat Lamb it would not go;

So Mary took that little LambAnd put it on the spit,And soon it was so nicely doneShe ate it every bit.

Pemmy

Pemmy was a pretty girl,But Fanny was a better;Pemmy look'd like any churl,When little Fanny let her.

Pemmy had a pretty nose,But Fanny had a better;Pemmy oft would come to blows,But Fanny would not let her.

Pemmy had a pretty song,But Fanny had a better;Pemmy would sing all day long,But Fanny would not let her.

Little Husband

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 bridled him, and saddled him,And sent him out of town.

I gave him some garters,To garter up his hose,And a little handkerchief,To wipe his pretty nose.

I'm Governess

Now children dear, you all come nearAnd do not make a noise;But listen here, just take and clearThat desk of all those toys.

For now I'm Governess you'll find,That its myself will make you mind;So Alice Brown you do your sum,And Betty Snooks don't look so glum.

And Sarah White sit down at once,And Susan Black you are a dunce,And Annie Grey you needn't thinkI didn't see you spill the ink.

And find your thimble Maggie More,And mind your sewing Jennie Shore;And Linda Cole you know 'tis wrongTo make a stitch two inches long.

And you Kate Ross, stop pinching there,Don't scratch! nor pull your sister's hair;And you, you naughty Lucy Moyes,Must not be talking to the boys.And Bridget Mace don't make that face;And Norah Finn keep your tongue in.Don't be a Tom-boy Emma Pyke,You really must act lady-like.Now I want all good children in my school,Don't want a single dunce, bad girl or fool,So I will kindly ask you to be brave,And try to very, very well behave.Yes all be good and learn your lessons well,And then I'll ring the little bell to tellThat school is over for the day,And you can all run out to play.Little GovernessLittle Nellie Nipkin, brisk, and clean, and neat,Keeps a little baby-school in the village street;Teaches little pupils all that she can find,And keeps a little birch that teaches them to mind.My Mamma's MaidDingty diddledy, My mamma's maid,She stole oranges, I'm afraid;Some in her pockets, some in her sleeve,She stole oranges, I believe.My DollyI have a little doll, I take care of her clothes;She has soft flaxen hair, and her name is Rose.She has pretty blue eyes, and a very small nose,And a funny little mouth, and her name is Rose.Tommy SnooksAs Tommy Snooks and Bessy BrooksWere walking out one Sunday,Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,"To-morrow will be Monday."Little Betty BlueLittle Betty Blue, lost her left shoe,What can little Betty do?Give her another, to match the other,And then she may walk in two.Cross PatchCross patch, draw the latch,Sit by the fire and spin;Take a cup, and drink it up,Then call your neighbours in.Jumping JoanHinx, minx! the old witch winks,The fat begins to fry;There's nobody at home but jumping Joan,Father, mother, and I.Princess Lost Her ShoeDoodle, doodle, doo,The Princess lost her shoe;Her highness hopp'dThe fiddler stopp'dNot knowing what to do.Hobble GobbleThe girl in the lane that couldn't speak plain,Cried "Gobble, gobble, gobble;"The man on the hill that couldn't stand still,Went "Hobble, hobble, hobble."Our Girl's RabbitsMary, Kate, and Maria went down as agreed,To the hutch in the garden, the rabbits to feed;There was the mother, a steady old bunny,Moving her nose in a manner so funny.A young rabbit also, tho' seeming to dose,Kept munching his breakfast and moving his nose;Mary, Kate, and Maria gave the rabbits some food,And lovingly stroked them because they were good.

And Bridget Mace don't make that face;And Norah Finn keep your tongue in.Don't be a Tom-boy Emma Pyke,You really must act lady-like.

Now I want all good children in my school,Don't want a single dunce, bad girl or fool,So I will kindly ask you to be brave,And try to very, very well behave.

Yes all be good and learn your lessons well,And then I'll ring the little bell to tellThat school is over for the day,And you can all run out to play.

Little Governess

Little Nellie Nipkin, brisk, and clean, and neat,Keeps a little baby-school in the village street;Teaches little pupils all that she can find,And keeps a little birch that teaches them to mind.

My Mamma's Maid

Dingty diddledy, My mamma's maid,She stole oranges, I'm afraid;Some in her pockets, some in her sleeve,She stole oranges, I believe.

My Dolly

I have a little doll, I take care of her clothes;She has soft flaxen hair, and her name is Rose.She has pretty blue eyes, and a very small nose,And a funny little mouth, and her name is Rose.

Tommy Snooks

As Tommy Snooks and Bessy BrooksWere walking out one Sunday,Says Tommy Snooks to Bessy Brooks,"To-morrow will be Monday."

Little Betty Blue

Little Betty Blue, lost her left shoe,What can little Betty do?Give her another, to match the other,And then she may walk in two.

Cross Patch

Cross patch, draw the latch,Sit by the fire and spin;Take a cup, and drink it up,Then call your neighbours in.

Jumping Joan

Hinx, minx! the old witch winks,The fat begins to fry;There's nobody at home but jumping Joan,Father, mother, and I.

Princess Lost Her Shoe

Doodle, doodle, doo,The Princess lost her shoe;Her highness hopp'dThe fiddler stopp'dNot knowing what to do.

Hobble Gobble

The girl in the lane that couldn't speak plain,Cried "Gobble, gobble, gobble;"The man on the hill that couldn't stand still,Went "Hobble, hobble, hobble."

Our Girl's Rabbits

Mary, Kate, and Maria went down as agreed,To the hutch in the garden, the rabbits to feed;There was the mother, a steady old bunny,Moving her nose in a manner so funny.

A young rabbit also, tho' seeming to dose,Kept munching his breakfast and moving his nose;Mary, Kate, and Maria gave the rabbits some food,And lovingly stroked them because they were good.

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Meddlesome MattyOne ugly trick has often spoiledThe sweetest and the best;Matilda, though a pleasant child,One ugly trick possessed,Which, like a cloud before the skies,Hid all her better qualities.Sometimes she'd lift the teapot lidTo peep at what was in it;Or tilt the kettle, if you didBut turn your back a minute.In vain you told her not to touch—Her trick of meddling grew so much.Her grandma went out one day,And by mistake she laidHer spectacles and snuff-box gayToo near the little maid;"Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on,As soon as grandmamma is gone,"Forthwith she placed upon her noseThe glasses large and wide;And looking round, as I suppose,The snuff box she too spied:"Oh! what a pretty box is that;I'll open it." said little Matt."I know grandmamma would say,'Don't meddle with it, dear;'But then she's far enough away,And no one else is near;Besides, what can there be amissIn opening such a box as this?"So thumb and finger went to workTo move the stubborn lid;And presently a mighty jerkThe mighty mischief did;For all at once, ah! woeful case,The snuff came puffing in her face.Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth beside,A dismal sight presented;In vain, as bitterly she cried,Her folly she repented.In vain she ran about for ease;She could do nothing now but sneeze.She dashed the spectacles away,To wipe her tingling eyes;And as in twenty bits they lay,Her grandmamma she spies."Heyday! and what's the matter now?"Says grandmamma, with lifted brow.Matilda, smarting with the pain,And tingling still and sore,Made many a promise to refrainFrom meddling evermore.And 'tis a fact, as I have heard,She ever since has kept her word.The Girl who Spilled the Ink"Oh! Lucy! Fanny! Make haste here!Mamma will be so vexed, I fear,For I've upset the ink!See, on my frock and pinafore,Such great black stains! And there are moreUpon my socks, I think."And Lucy cries, with open eyes,And hands extended in surprise,"Oh, naughty Mary Ann,Those stains can never be washed out;Whatever have you been about?Look at her, sister Fan!"Mamma comes in: "Heyday! what's this?Why, Mary Ann, I told you, Miss,The inkstand ne'er to move;And little girls who won't obey,And mind each word their parents say,Good people ne'er will love."The Naughty GirlA naughty girl had got no toy,And didn't know what to do,So she rumpled her frockAnd tore her sock,And tried to eat her shoe.The Girl who was Always TastingLittle Miss Baster, of Sunnyside,Was known as a taster, far and wide;Picking and licking, spying and prying,Each bottle and dish with her fingers trying.Dangerous practice! dreadful little fact is!Once almost poisoned, and very near dying.Little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside,Has got some poison in paper tied;Harmless she deems it, yes, she must taste,Like sugar seems it, ah! but 'tis paste.Rat's-bane, the mixture. Oh! woe the day!Run for the doctor, bid him not stay.Dreadful her anguish—nearly she died,Did little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside.Children Stealing Jam.

Meddlesome Matty

One ugly trick has often spoiledThe sweetest and the best;Matilda, though a pleasant child,One ugly trick possessed,Which, like a cloud before the skies,Hid all her better qualities.

Sometimes she'd lift the teapot lidTo peep at what was in it;Or tilt the kettle, if you didBut turn your back a minute.In vain you told her not to touch—Her trick of meddling grew so much.

Her grandma went out one day,And by mistake she laidHer spectacles and snuff-box gayToo near the little maid;"Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on,As soon as grandmamma is gone,"

Forthwith she placed upon her noseThe glasses large and wide;And looking round, as I suppose,The snuff box she too spied:"Oh! what a pretty box is that;I'll open it." said little Matt.

"I know grandmamma would say,'Don't meddle with it, dear;'But then she's far enough away,And no one else is near;Besides, what can there be amissIn opening such a box as this?"

So thumb and finger went to workTo move the stubborn lid;And presently a mighty jerkThe mighty mischief did;For all at once, ah! woeful case,The snuff came puffing in her face.

Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth beside,A dismal sight presented;In vain, as bitterly she cried,Her folly she repented.In vain she ran about for ease;She could do nothing now but sneeze.

She dashed the spectacles away,To wipe her tingling eyes;And as in twenty bits they lay,Her grandmamma she spies."Heyday! and what's the matter now?"Says grandmamma, with lifted brow.

Matilda, smarting with the pain,And tingling still and sore,Made many a promise to refrainFrom meddling evermore.And 'tis a fact, as I have heard,She ever since has kept her word.

The Girl who Spilled the Ink

"Oh! Lucy! Fanny! Make haste here!Mamma will be so vexed, I fear,For I've upset the ink!See, on my frock and pinafore,Such great black stains! And there are moreUpon my socks, I think."

And Lucy cries, with open eyes,And hands extended in surprise,"Oh, naughty Mary Ann,Those stains can never be washed out;Whatever have you been about?Look at her, sister Fan!"

Mamma comes in: "Heyday! what's this?Why, Mary Ann, I told you, Miss,The inkstand ne'er to move;And little girls who won't obey,And mind each word their parents say,Good people ne'er will love."

The Naughty Girl

A naughty girl had got no toy,And didn't know what to do,So she rumpled her frockAnd tore her sock,And tried to eat her shoe.

The Girl who was Always Tasting

Little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside,Was known as a taster, far and wide;Picking and licking, spying and prying,Each bottle and dish with her fingers trying.Dangerous practice! dreadful little fact is!Once almost poisoned, and very near dying.Little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside,Has got some poison in paper tied;Harmless she deems it, yes, she must taste,Like sugar seems it, ah! but 'tis paste.Rat's-bane, the mixture. Oh! woe the day!Run for the doctor, bid him not stay.Dreadful her anguish—nearly she died,Did little Miss Baster, of Sunnyside.

Children Stealing JamFour naughty little children thoughtSome jam they'd try and steal;But see how nicely they were caughtWith a crash that made them squeal.Their mother who was just next door,And heard the horrid noise,Came in and shook those naughty girls,And whipped those naughty boys.Sally, the Lazy GirlHer sister would come to the bedside and call,"Do you mean to sleep here all the day?"I saw Kitty Miles up two hours ago,A-washing and working away."The water is boiling, the table is spread,Your father is just at the door;If you are not quick, we shall eat all the bread,And you will not find any more."Then Sally sat up and half opened her eyes,And gave both a grunt and a groan;And yawning she said, in a quarrelsome voice,"I wish you would let me alone."But though she was lazy, she always could eat,And wished for a plentiful share,So tumbled her clothes on, and smeared her white face,Forgetting her hands and her hair.Her frock was all crumpled and twisted away,Her hair was entangled and wild,Her stockings were down and her shoes were untied,She looked a most slovenly child.She sauntered about till the old village clockHad sounded and then died away,Before she put on her torn bonnet and wentTo school without further delay.But soon as she came to the little cake shop,She loitered with lingering eyes,Just wishing that she had a penny to spend,For one of the pretty jam pies.Again she went on, and she loitered againIn the same foolish way as before,And the clock in the school was just warning for ten,As she lifted the latch of the door.The governess frowned as she went to her place,She had often so spoken in vain,And now only said, with a sorrowful sigh,"There's Sally the latest again!"She hated her reading, and never would write,She neither could cypher nor sew,And little girls whispered, "We never will beSo silly as Miss Sally Slow."Girl who Wouldn't Comb her HairI tell you of a little girl, who would herself have been,As pretty a young lady as ever could be seen,But that about her little head she had no cleanly care.And never, never could be made to brush and comb her hair.

Children Stealing Jam

Four naughty little children thoughtSome jam they'd try and steal;But see how nicely they were caughtWith a crash that made them squeal.

Their mother who was just next door,And heard the horrid noise,Came in and shook those naughty girls,And whipped those naughty boys.

Sally, the Lazy Girl

Her sister would come to the bedside and call,"Do you mean to sleep here all the day?"I saw Kitty Miles up two hours ago,A-washing and working away.

"The water is boiling, the table is spread,Your father is just at the door;If you are not quick, we shall eat all the bread,And you will not find any more."

Then Sally sat up and half opened her eyes,And gave both a grunt and a groan;And yawning she said, in a quarrelsome voice,"I wish you would let me alone."

But though she was lazy, she always could eat,And wished for a plentiful share,So tumbled her clothes on, and smeared her white face,Forgetting her hands and her hair.

Her frock was all crumpled and twisted away,Her hair was entangled and wild,Her stockings were down and her shoes were untied,She looked a most slovenly child.

She sauntered about till the old village clockHad sounded and then died away,Before she put on her torn bonnet and wentTo school without further delay.

But soon as she came to the little cake shop,She loitered with lingering eyes,Just wishing that she had a penny to spend,For one of the pretty jam pies.

Again she went on, and she loitered againIn the same foolish way as before,And the clock in the school was just warning for ten,As she lifted the latch of the door.

The governess frowned as she went to her place,She had often so spoken in vain,And now only said, with a sorrowful sigh,"There's Sally the latest again!"

She hated her reading, and never would write,She neither could cypher nor sew,And little girls whispered, "We never will beSo silly as Miss Sally Slow."

Girl who Wouldn't Comb her Hair

I tell you of a little girl, who would herself have been,As pretty a young lady as ever could be seen,But that about her little head she had no cleanly care.And never, never could be made to brush and comb her hair.

She would have been a pretty child,But, oh! she was a fright—She looked just like a girl that's wild,Yes, quite as ugly, quite;She looked just like a girl that's wild—A frightful ugly sight.The Nasty, Cross GirlsThe school was closed one afternoon,And all the girls were gone;Some walked away in company,And some walked on alone.Some plucked the flowers upon the banks,Some chatted very fast,And some were talking secretly,And whispered as you passed.And if, perchance, a girl came near,Then one of these would say,"Don't listen to our secrets, Miss,You'll please to go away."As Nelly White ran home from school,Her work-bag in her hand,She chanced to pass near Lucy Bell,And her friend Susan Brand."We don't want you," said Lucy Bell,"You little tiresome chit;Our secrets are not meant for you,You little tell-tale-tit."Then both girls cried, "Tell-tale-tit,"And pushed her roughly by;Poor Nelly said, "I'm no such thing,"And then began to cry.

The Nasty, Cross Girls

The school was closed one afternoon,And all the girls were gone;Some walked away in company,And some walked on alone.

Some plucked the flowers upon the banks,Some chatted very fast,And some were talking secretly,And whispered as you passed.

And if, perchance, a girl came near,Then one of these would say,"Don't listen to our secrets, Miss,You'll please to go away."

As Nelly White ran home from school,Her work-bag in her hand,She chanced to pass near Lucy Bell,And her friend Susan Brand.

"We don't want you," said Lucy Bell,"You little tiresome chit;Our secrets are not meant for you,You little tell-tale-tit."

Then both girls cried, "Tell-tale-tit,"And pushed her roughly by;Poor Nelly said, "I'm no such thing,"And then began to cry.

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Little Red Riding HoodOnce upon a time there was a dear little girl whose mother made her a scarlet cloak with a hood to tie over her pretty head; so people called her (as a pet name) "Little Red Riding-Hood." One day her mother tied on her cloak and hood and said,"I wish you to go to-day, my darling, to see your grandmamma, and take her a present of some butter, fresh eggs, a pot of honey, and a little cake with my love."Little Red Riding-Hood loved her grandmother, and was very glad to go. So she ran gaily through the wood, gathering wild flowers and gambolling among the ferns as she went; and the birds all sang their sweetest songs to her, and the bluebells nodded their pretty heads, for everything loved the gentle child.By and by a great hungry Wolf came up to her. He wished to eat her up, but as he heard the woodman Hugh's axe at work close by, he was afraid to touch her, for fear she should cry out and he should get killed. So he only asked her where she was going. Little Red Riding-Hood innocently told him (for she did not know he was a wicked Wolf) that she was going to visit her grandmother, who lived in a cottage on the other side of the wood. Then the Wolf made haste, and ran through the wood, and came to the cottage of which the child had told him. He tapped at the door."Who's there?" asked the old woman, who lay sick in bed."It is Little Red Riding-Hood, Grandmamma," answered the Wolf in a squeaky tone, to imitate the voice of her grandchild."Pull the string, and the latch will come up," said the old lady, "for I am ill and cannot open the door."The cruel Wolf did so, and, jumping on the bed, ate the poor grandmother up.Then he put on her night-cap and got into bed. By and by Little Red Riding-Hood, who had lingered gathering flowers as she came along, and so was much later than the Wolf, knocked at the door."Who's there?" asked the Wolf, mimicking her grandmother's voice."It is Little Red Riding-Hood, dear Grandmamma," said the child."Pull the string and the latch will come up," said the Wolf.So Red Riding-Hood came in, and the Wolf told her to put down her basket, and come and sit on the bed. When Little Red Riding-Hood drew back the curtain and saw the Wolf, she began to be rather frightened and said,"Dear Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!""All the better to see you with, my dear," said the Wolf, who liked a grim joke."And what a large nose you have, Grandmamma!" cried the child."All the better to smell you with, my dear.""And, oh! Grandmamma, what long white teeth you have!"Alas! she reminded the greedy Wolf of eating."All the better to eat you with!" he growled; and, jumping out of bed, sprang at Red Riding-Hood.But just at that moment Hugh the woodman, who had seen the sweet child go by, and had followed her, because he knew there was a Wolf prowling about the forest, burst the door open, and killed the wicked animal with his good axe. Little Red Riding-Hood clung round his neck and thanked him, and cried for joy; and Hugh took her home to her mother; and after that she was never allowed to walk in the greenwood by herself.It was said at first that the Wolf had eaten the child, but that was not the case; and everybody was glad to hear that the first report was not correct, and that the Wolf had not really killed Little Red Riding-Hood.Little Miss JewelLittle Miss JewelSat on a stool,Eating of curds and whey;There came a little spiderWho sat down beside her,And frightened Miss Jewel away.Little GirlLittle girl, little girl, where have you been;Gathering Roses to give to the Queen.Little girl, little girl, what gave she you?She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe.Little Betty BlueLittle Betty Blue lost her pretty shoe;What can Little Betty do?Give her another, to match the other,And then she can walk in two.I'm Grandmamma.

Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl whose mother made her a scarlet cloak with a hood to tie over her pretty head; so people called her (as a pet name) "Little Red Riding-Hood." One day her mother tied on her cloak and hood and said,

"I wish you to go to-day, my darling, to see your grandmamma, and take her a present of some butter, fresh eggs, a pot of honey, and a little cake with my love."

Little Red Riding-Hood loved her grandmother, and was very glad to go. So she ran gaily through the wood, gathering wild flowers and gambolling among the ferns as she went; and the birds all sang their sweetest songs to her, and the bluebells nodded their pretty heads, for everything loved the gentle child.

By and by a great hungry Wolf came up to her. He wished to eat her up, but as he heard the woodman Hugh's axe at work close by, he was afraid to touch her, for fear she should cry out and he should get killed. So he only asked her where she was going. Little Red Riding-Hood innocently told him (for she did not know he was a wicked Wolf) that she was going to visit her grandmother, who lived in a cottage on the other side of the wood. Then the Wolf made haste, and ran through the wood, and came to the cottage of which the child had told him. He tapped at the door.

"Who's there?" asked the old woman, who lay sick in bed."It is Little Red Riding-Hood, Grandmamma," answered the Wolf in a squeaky tone, to imitate the voice of her grandchild."Pull the string, and the latch will come up," said the old lady, "for I am ill and cannot open the door."

The cruel Wolf did so, and, jumping on the bed, ate the poor grandmother up.

Then he put on her night-cap and got into bed. By and by Little Red Riding-Hood, who had lingered gathering flowers as she came along, and so was much later than the Wolf, knocked at the door.

"Who's there?" asked the Wolf, mimicking her grandmother's voice."It is Little Red Riding-Hood, dear Grandmamma," said the child."Pull the string and the latch will come up," said the Wolf.

So Red Riding-Hood came in, and the Wolf told her to put down her basket, and come and sit on the bed. When Little Red Riding-Hood drew back the curtain and saw the Wolf, she began to be rather frightened and said,

"Dear Grandmamma, what great eyes you have got!""All the better to see you with, my dear," said the Wolf, who liked a grim joke."And what a large nose you have, Grandmamma!" cried the child."All the better to smell you with, my dear.""And, oh! Grandmamma, what long white teeth you have!"

Alas! she reminded the greedy Wolf of eating.

"All the better to eat you with!" he growled; and, jumping out of bed, sprang at Red Riding-Hood.

But just at that moment Hugh the woodman, who had seen the sweet child go by, and had followed her, because he knew there was a Wolf prowling about the forest, burst the door open, and killed the wicked animal with his good axe. Little Red Riding-Hood clung round his neck and thanked him, and cried for joy; and Hugh took her home to her mother; and after that she was never allowed to walk in the greenwood by herself.

It was said at first that the Wolf had eaten the child, but that was not the case; and everybody was glad to hear that the first report was not correct, and that the Wolf had not really killed Little Red Riding-Hood.

Little Miss Jewel

Little Miss JewelSat on a stool,Eating of curds and whey;There came a little spiderWho sat down beside her,And frightened Miss Jewel away.

Little Girl

Little girl, little girl, where have you been;Gathering Roses to give to the Queen.Little girl, little girl, what gave she you?She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe.

Little Betty Blue

Little Betty Blue lost her pretty shoe;What can Little Betty do?Give her another, to match the other,And then she can walk in two.

I'm GrandmammaLast night when I was in bed,Such fun it seemed to me;I dreamt that I was Grandmamma,And Grandmamma was me.But she was such a tiny girl,And dressed in baby clothes;And I thought I smacked her face, becauseShe wouldn't blow her nose.An I went walking up the street,And she ran by my side;And because I walked too quick for her,My goodness, hoe she cried.And after tea I washed her face;And when her prayers were said,I blew the candle out, and leftPoor Grandmamma in bed.The Babes In The WoodA long time ago there lived in an old mansion in the country a rich gentleman and his wife, who had two dear little children, of whom they were very fond. Sad to relate, the gentleman and lady were both taken ill, and, feeling they were about to die, sent for the uncle of the children, and begged him to take care of them till they were old enough to inherit the estates.Now this uncle was a bad and cruel man, who wanted to take the house, the estates, and the money for himself,—so after the death of the parents he began to think how he could best get rid of the children. For some time he kept them till he claimed for them all the goods that should have been theirs. At last he sent for two robbers, who had once been his companions, and showing them the boy and girl, who were at play, offered them a large sum of money to carry them away and never let him see them more.One of the two robbers began coaxing the little boy and girl, and asking them if they would not like to go out for a nice ride in the woods, each of them on a big horse. The boy said he should if his sister might go too, and the girl said she should not be afraid if her brother went with her. So the two robbers enticed them away from the house, and, mounting their horses, went off into the woods, much to the delight of the children, who were pleased with the great trees, the bright flowers, and the singing of the birds.Now, one of these men was not so bad and cruel as the other, and he would not consent to kill the poor little creatures, as the other had threatened he would do. He said that they should be left in the woods to stray about, and perhaps they might then escape. This led to a great quarrel between the two, and at last the cruel one jumped off his horse, saying he would kill them, let who would stand in the way. Upon this the other drew his sword to protect the children, and after a fierce fight succeeded in killing his companion.But though he had saved them from being murdered, he was afraid to take them back or convey them out of the wood, so he pointed out a path, telling them to walk straight on and he would come back to them when he had bought some bread for their supper; he rode away and left them there all alone, with only the trees, and birds and flowers. They loved each other so dearly, and were so bold and happy, that they were not much afraid though they were both very hungry.The two children soon got out of the path, which led into the thickest part of the wood, and then they wandered farther and farther into the thicket till they were both sadly tired, but they found some wild berries, nuts and fruits, and began to eat them to satisfy their hunger. The dark night came on and the robber did not return. They were cold, and still very hungry, and the boy went about looking for fresh fruit for his sister, and tried to comfort her as they lay down to sleep on the soft moss under the trees.The next day, and the next, they roamed about, but there was nothing to eat but wild fruits; and they lived on them till they grew so weak that they could not go far from the tree where they had made a little bed of grass and weeds. There they laid down as the shades of night fell upon them, and in the morning they were both in heaven, for they died there in the forest, and as the sun shone upon their little pale faces, the robins and other birds came and covered their bodies with leaves, and so died and were buried the poor Babes in the Wood.

I'm Grandmamma

Last night when I was in bed,Such fun it seemed to me;I dreamt that I was Grandmamma,And Grandmamma was me.

But she was such a tiny girl,And dressed in baby clothes;And I thought I smacked her face, becauseShe wouldn't blow her nose.

An I went walking up the street,And she ran by my side;And because I walked too quick for her,My goodness, hoe she cried.

And after tea I washed her face;And when her prayers were said,I blew the candle out, and leftPoor Grandmamma in bed.

The Babes In The Wood

A long time ago there lived in an old mansion in the country a rich gentleman and his wife, who had two dear little children, of whom they were very fond. Sad to relate, the gentleman and lady were both taken ill, and, feeling they were about to die, sent for the uncle of the children, and begged him to take care of them till they were old enough to inherit the estates.

Now this uncle was a bad and cruel man, who wanted to take the house, the estates, and the money for himself,—so after the death of the parents he began to think how he could best get rid of the children. For some time he kept them till he claimed for them all the goods that should have been theirs. At last he sent for two robbers, who had once been his companions, and showing them the boy and girl, who were at play, offered them a large sum of money to carry them away and never let him see them more.

One of the two robbers began coaxing the little boy and girl, and asking them if they would not like to go out for a nice ride in the woods, each of them on a big horse. The boy said he should if his sister might go too, and the girl said she should not be afraid if her brother went with her. So the two robbers enticed them away from the house, and, mounting their horses, went off into the woods, much to the delight of the children, who were pleased with the great trees, the bright flowers, and the singing of the birds.

Now, one of these men was not so bad and cruel as the other, and he would not consent to kill the poor little creatures, as the other had threatened he would do. He said that they should be left in the woods to stray about, and perhaps they might then escape. This led to a great quarrel between the two, and at last the cruel one jumped off his horse, saying he would kill them, let who would stand in the way. Upon this the other drew his sword to protect the children, and after a fierce fight succeeded in killing his companion.

But though he had saved them from being murdered, he was afraid to take them back or convey them out of the wood, so he pointed out a path, telling them to walk straight on and he would come back to them when he had bought some bread for their supper; he rode away and left them there all alone, with only the trees, and birds and flowers. They loved each other so dearly, and were so bold and happy, that they were not much afraid though they were both very hungry.

The two children soon got out of the path, which led into the thickest part of the wood, and then they wandered farther and farther into the thicket till they were both sadly tired, but they found some wild berries, nuts and fruits, and began to eat them to satisfy their hunger. The dark night came on and the robber did not return. They were cold, and still very hungry, and the boy went about looking for fresh fruit for his sister, and tried to comfort her as they lay down to sleep on the soft moss under the trees.

The next day, and the next, they roamed about, but there was nothing to eat but wild fruits; and they lived on them till they grew so weak that they could not go far from the tree where they had made a little bed of grass and weeds. There they laid down as the shades of night fell upon them, and in the morning they were both in heaven, for they died there in the forest, and as the sun shone upon their little pale faces, the robins and other birds came and covered their bodies with leaves, and so died and were buried the poor Babes in the Wood.

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