Cole's Funny Picture Book No. 1

by E. W. Cole

Page 100—Old Men Tales

Old Man and His Wife There was an old man who lived in a wood, As you may plainly see, He said he could do as much work in a day As his wife could do in three. "With all my heart," the old woman said, "If that you will allow; To-morrow you'll stay at home in my stead, And I'll go drive the plough. "But you must milk the Tidy cow, For fear she may go dry. And you must feed the little pigs That are within the sty; "And you must mind the speckled hen, For fear she lay away; And you must reel the spool of yarn That I spun yesterday." The old woman took a whip in her hand, And went to drive the plough; The old man took a pail in his hand, And went to milk the cow. But Tidy hinched and Tidy flinched, And Tidy broke his nose, And Tidy gave him such a blow That the blood ran down to his toes. "Hi! Tidy! Ho! Tidy! Hi! Tidy! do stand still! If ever I milk you, Tidy, again, 'Twill be sore against my will." He went to feed the little pigs, That were within the sty; He hit his head against the beam And he made the blood to fly. He went to mind the speckled hen, For fear she'd lay away; And he forgot the spool of yarn His wife spun yesterday. So he swore by the sun, the moon, the stars, And the green leaves on the tree, If his wife didn't do a day's work in her life, She should never be ruled by he.

John Ball Shot Them All John Ball shot them all. John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all. John Wyming made the priming, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all. John Block made the stock, And John Wyming made the priming, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all. John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Wyming made the priming, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all. John Puzzle made the muzzle, And John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Wyming made the priming, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all. John Clint made the flint, And John Puzzle made the muzzle, And John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Wyming made the priming, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all. John Patch made the match, John Clint made the flint, John Puzzle made the muzzle, John Crowder made the powder, John Block made the stock, John Wyming made the priming, John Brammer made the rammer, John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all.

The Funny Old Man There was an old man, and though 'tis not common, Yet if he said true, his mother was a woman; And though it's incredible, yet I've been told He was a mere infant, but age made him old. Whene'er he was hungry he wanted some meat, And if he could get it, 'twas said he could eat; When thirsty he'd drink, if you gave him a pot, And his liquor most commonly ran down his throat. He seldom or never could see without light, And yet I've been told he could hear in the night. He has oft been awake in the daytime 'tis said, And has fall'n fast asleep as he lay in his bed. 'Tis reported his tongue always moved when he talked, And he stirred both his arms and his legs when he walk'd, And his gait was so odd, had you seen him you'd burst, For one leg or t'other would always be first. His face was the saddest that ever was seen, For if 'twere not washed it was seldom quite clean; He showed most his teeth when he happened to grin, His mouth stood across 'twixt his nose and his chin. At last he fell sick, as old chronicles tell, And then, as folk said, he was not very well! And what is more strange, in so weak a condition, As he could not give fees, he could get no physician. What a pity he died; yet 'tis said that his death Was occasioned at last by the want of his breath. But peace to his bones, which in ashes now moulder, Had he lived a day longer he'd been a day older.

Piper and His Cow There was and old piper who had a cow, But he had no hay to give her, So he took his pipes and played her a tune "Consider, old cow, consider."

Old John Brown Poor old John Brown is dead and gone, We ne'er shall see him more; He used to wear an old brown coat, All button'd down before.

Three Wise Men Three wise men of Gotham, Went to sea in a bowl; If the bowl it had been stronger, My song would have been longer.

Frightened Old Man There was a man and he had nought, And robbers came to rob him; He crept up the chimney pot, And then they thought they had him; But he got down on t'other side, And so they could not find him; He ran fourteen miles in fifteen days, And never look'd behind him.

A Man with a Wife I had a little wife, the prettiest ever seen, She washed up the dishes, and kept the house clean; She went to the mill to fetch me some flour, She brought it home in less than an hour; She baked me my bread, she brewed me my ale, She sat by the fire and told me many a fine tale.

Crooked Old Man There was a crooked man, And he went a crooked mile, He found a crooked sixpence, Against a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, Which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together In a little crooked house.

King Arthur When good King Arthur ruled this land, He was a goodly King; He stole three pecks of barley meal, To make a bag pudding. A bag pudding the King did make, And stuffed it well with plums; And in it put great lumps of fat, As big as my two thumbs. The King and Queen did eat thereof, And noblemen beside; And what they could not eat that night The Queen next morning fried.

Barney Bodkin Barney Bodkin broke his nose, Without feet we can't have toes, Crazy folks are always mad, Want of money makes us sad.

Funny Man A man of words and not of deeds, Is like a garden fill of weeds; And when the weeds begin to grow, It's like a garden full of snow; And when the snow begins to fall, It's like a bird upon the wall; And when the bird away does fly, It's like an eagle in the sky; And when the sky begins to roar, It's like a lion at the door; And when the door begins to crack, It's like a stick across your back; And when your back begins to smart, It's like a penknife in your heart; And when your heart begins to bleed, You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed.

Strange Man There was a man and he was mad, And he jumped into a pea-pod; The pea-pod was over-full, So he jumped into a roaring bull; The roaring bull was over-fat, So he jumped into a gentleman's hat; The gentleman's hat was over-fine, So he jumped into a bottle of wine; The bottle of wine was over-dear, So he jumped into a bottle of beer; The bottle of beer was over-thick, So he jumped into a club-stick; The club-stick was over-narrow, So he jumped into a wheel-barrow; The wheel-barrow began to crack, So he jumped into a hay-stack; The hay-stack began to blaze, So he did nothing but cough and sneeze.

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