Page 162—Doggy Land
Old Mother Hubbard and Her Dog
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Old Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard To get her poor Dog a bone; But when she got there The cupboard was bare, And so the poor Dog had none. She went to the baker's To buy him some bread, And when she came back The poor Dog looked dead. She went to the joiner's To buy him a coffin, But when she came back The poor Dog was laughing. She took a clean dish To get him some tripe, But when she came back He was smoking a pipe. She went to the ale-house To get him some beer, But when she came back The Dog sat on a chair. She went to the hatter's To buy him a hat, But when she came back He was feeding the cat. She went to the barber's To buy him a wig, But when she came back He was dancing a jig. She went to the fruiterer's To buy him some fruit, But when she came back He was playing the flute. She went to the tailor's, To buy him a coat, But when she came back He was riding a goat. She went to the seamstress To buy him some linen, But when she came back The Dog was a-spinning. She went to the hosier's To buy him some hose, But when she came back He was dressed in his clothes. She went to the cobbler's To buy him some shoes, But when she came back He was reading the news. She went to the hotel To get him some ale, But when she came back, He was wagging his tail. |
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She went to the tavern For white wine and red, But when she came back The Dog stood on his head. The dame made a curtsey, The Dog made a bow; The dame said "Your servant," The Dog said "Bow-wow." This wonderful Dog Was Dame Hubbard's delight; He could sing, he could dance, He could read, he could write. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him a book, And when she came back He at once took a look. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book two, And when she came back He was tying his shoe. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book three, And when she came back He getting his tea. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book four, And when she came back He sat at the door. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book five, And when she came back He was out for a drive. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book six And when she came back He was picking up sticks. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book seven, And when she came back He was brewing some leaven. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book eight, And when she came back He was baking a cake. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book nine, And when she came back He said it was fine. She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book ten, And when she came back He took it an then She went to Cole's Book Arcade To buy him book eleven, And when she came back He had gone up to heaven. |
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To Parents And Schoolmasters I have been blamed for printing and distributing "Mother Hubbard." My answer is:—"Old Mother Hubbard" has done more towards the education of young children than perhaps any piece of reading in existence. Amongst the hundreds of millions of English speaking people in all parts of the earth, there are very few but can repeat a part or the whole of "Mother Hubbard," and I have seen it somewhat asserted that it is to be found in almost every home in the civilised world. Its rude style of poetry tells nothing against it. The child knows nothing of correct metre: as long as there is a jingling rhyme it is satisfied. The dog is the domestic animal in millions of families, and in numberless cases is actually a more loved companion then brothers and sisters. A simple rhyme, therefore, about this attached, playful, and constant companion is sure to fascinate the young, and it has fascinated more than a thousand millions of the little dears. I firmly believe that it would produce grand results if a pretty illustrated edition of the principal nursery rhymes were made a text-book in infant schools. You may try, and try, and try again, to drive an ordinary dry school-book lesson into the infant mind, and make very little progress—it is up-hill work. But take an illustrated edition of a nursery rhyme, say the "Death of Cock Robin," or "Mother Hubbard," and call the little one to you, begin to teach it—how eagerly, how intently does it begin to learn now! What animation in its little eyes! What music in its little, joyous, interested voice! It learns this lesson ten times as fast as the other one, and gives you ten times the pleasure in teaching it, and this kind of teaching gradually and insensibly leads the child into a love of learning: it interests and sets the young inquiring mind at work. We all know how much easier it is to do a work we are interested in than a work we are not. It is just so with the child, and for that reason I would commence to teach the infant mind with that which pleased it best, and so gradually create a love for reading. For years I have allowed numbers of little children, of their own accord, to stand and read nursery rhymes to themselves, and to teach other youths to read interesting and instructive fiction, gratis, in the Book Arcade; and I hold that, by its enticingly creating a love for reading, which will lead to something higher, time is one of the best and most effective schools in the country. —E. W. Cole |
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