Humpty Dumpty

I
There he lay, stretched out on the ground,
While all the company gathered around;
When, valiantly stifling his tears and his groans,
He sadly addressed them in quavering tones.

II
“Friends,” said Humpty, wiping his eyes,
“This sudden descent was an awful surprise.
It inclines me to think,—you may laugh at my views,—
That a seat that is humble is safest to choose.

III
“All are not fitted to sit on a wall,
Some have no balance, and some are too small;
Many have tried it and found, as I guess,
They’ve ended, like me, in a terrible mess.

IV
“Hark, you horses, and all you king’s men!
Hear it, and never forget it again!
’Tis those who are patient in seats that are low,
Who some day get up in high places and crow.”

V
Then they took him and put him to bed.
I hope you’ll remember the things that he said;
For all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Never once thought of his sermon again.

This noble queen, with mind serene,
Then made a mammoth cake.
The naughty knave for cake did crave,
And off with it did make.
The haughty king, for punishing,
Would have him eat it all,
Which made the knave—unhappy slave—
Too sick to speak or crawl.

Since then, at ease, their majesties
Eat pastries every day.
The knave affirms his stomach squirms,
And looks the other way.
Alas, alas, to such a pass
Doth gluttony invite!
’Tis very sad to be so bad,
And lose one’s appetite.

Next day the queen, with lofty mien,
Prepared some lovely pies.
The feeble knave side-glances gave
At them with longing eyes.
The cruel king, with mocking fling,
Said: “Do, now, have some pie!”
The qualmish knave, no longer brave,
Could only groan, “Not I.”

This morning as I wandered
To enjoy the charming weather,
I met a man in goggles and a modern suit of leather.
He began to toot a horn and I began to run,
He knocked me flat nor cared for that;
And down the road he spun.

I
OOD Queen Kate was his royal mate,
And a right royal mate was she:
She would frequently state that carousing till late
Was something that never should be.
But every fiddler had such a fine fiddle,—
Oh, such a fine fiddle had he,—
That old King Cole, in his inmost soul,
Was as restive as he could be.

II
HEN thus spoke she to his majesty,
He planted his crown on tight.
“We will wait,” whispered he to the fiddlers three,
“Till the Queen has retired for the night.”
Every fiddler then tuned up his fiddle,
And tuned it as true as could be:
While old King Cole got his pipe and bowl
And replenished them secretly.

III
O gay they grew as the night hours flew,
He forgot how the time sped away;
Till swift overhead he heard the Queen’s tread
As she sprang out of bed, when he hurriedly said
They might finish the tune the next day.
Every fiddler he had a fine fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he:
Oh, ’t was not fair such a concert rare
Should be ended so suddenly!

“Fy, pussy, what a lazy cat,
On such a pleasant day
To sit and drowse beside the fire
And sleep the hours away!
A self-respecting dog would think
Himself a sorry cur,
If he did nothing all day long
But fold his arms and purr!”

“Now, sir, you needn’t criticize
Because I sit and blink,
For while my eyes are shut, like this,
I think, and think, and think.
And when I purr, please understand
I work with all my might,
A-humming over songs I sing
When I go out at night.

“Excuse me. Now I’ll close my eyes,
And think a little more.
On busy days like this, I show
My visitors the door.
’T is only little dogs who judge
That one must idle be,
Unless one’s chasing round and round
Or barking up a tree.”

But never a word of plaint will be heard
From robin, no matter how tired and cold;

For well will he know that the winter
will go,
And the blossoms and greenness of
spring unfold.

And when the warm sun says winter
is done,
He’ll gladden us all with his cheery
song;
And never will fret if the season is wet,
Or wail that the winter was hard and long.

I bought a little carriage
And took him out to ride,
And yet with all my efforts
He wasn’t satisfied.
I never would have married,
Now this I do declare,—
If I’d supposed a husband
Was such an awful care.

This clever man then hastened on
And bought a pair of shears,
But when he tried to cut with them,
He snipped off both his ears.
And when he heard his ears were off,
(’T was told him o’er and o’er),
He seized the shears and snipped them back
As they had been before.

“Because,” said he, “wise men like me,
Who travel round about,
And keep their eyes, and use them well,
May find some people out.
And if they also use their ears,
And hark what hearsay brings,
They’re likewise pretty sure to hear
Some very funny things.”

See saw, steady and slow!
Other places there are, I know,
But they are not worth the trouble to go,
For Boston people have told me so.

Sing a song o’ sixpence
A pocket full of rye;
I know another blackbird
Baked in a pie.
The maid it was who baked it
With all her might and main,
Resolved there’d be one blackbird
That shouldn’t nip again.

I never will dress her again, that is sure.
Her scratches, you see, are not easy to cure.
And I find that it takes much more time than you’d guess,
To sew up the rents in my dolly’s best dress.

I’d give a good deal, if it wasn’t for that,
To see how she’d look in my dolly’s new hat.
But no, I’ll not try it, you never can tell;
And politeness is best till one’s scratches get well.

Jack Horner had three brothers,
Their names were Horner, too—
One was James, and one was George,
And the little one was Hugh.
And they always did exactly
What they saw Jackie do—
James and George and the littlest one,
The one whose name was Hugh.

So when Jack’s Christmas pie was made,
They made three others, too—
One for James, and one for George,
And a little one for Hugh.
And they sat up in corners,
As they’d seen Jackie do—
James and George and the littlest one,
The one whose name was Hugh.

I’m sure ’t was very lucky
(Does it not seem so to you?)
That the room had just four corners

For

For if Jackie had a corner,
There must be corners, too,
For James and George and the littlest one,
The one whose name was Hugh.

JINGLES

THERE WAS A MAN IN OUR TOWN

There was a man in our town,
And all he did each day
Was to skip and hop along the streets
And on a trumpet play.

————

A MOST WONDERFUL SIGHT

The most wonderful sight I ever did see
Was an owl on the branch of our old oak-tree;
His eyes were so large and his head was so small
That he seemed all eyes and no head at all.

SAILING

Afloat, afloat, in a golden boat!
Hoist the sail to the breeze!
Steer by a star to lands afar
That sleep in the southern seas,
And then come home to our teas!

MISERY IN COMPANY

The rain is falling,
The fire is out!
Jane has the toothache,
John has the gout!

COURT NEWS
By Lucy Fitch Perkins

The king and queen went out to-day,
A-riding on a load of hay.
The king fell off and lost his crown,
The queen fell, too, and tore her gown.

THE SLEEPY-TIME STORY [C]

BY GERTRUDE SMITH

One night Arabella and Araminta’s mamma was sewing, and their papa was reading his newspaper. And there was a fire in the grate—a warm, bright fire in the grate.

And Arabella sat on the rug before the fire, and Araminta sat on the rug before the fire.

And Arabella was playing with her little white kitty, and Araminta was playing with her little black kitty.

And Arabella’s little white kitty’s name was Annabel, and Araminta’s little black kitty’s name was Lillabel.

Arabella had a little red ball fastened to a long string, and Araminta had a little blue ball fastened to a long string. Arabella would roll her ball, and her little white kitty would run and jump for it. And Araminta would roll her ball, and her little black kitty would run and jump for it.

The kittens were so cunning and funny, and they were having such a splendid time.

Sometimes when Arabella’s kitty would run very fast, or jump very high, Arabella would laugh until she tumbled right over on the floor.

And sometimes when Araminta’s kitty would run very fast, or jump very high, Araminta would laugh until she would tumble right over on the floor.

Oh, they were having a splendid time.

But all at once their mamma looked up from her sewing, and said, “Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight.”

And their papa looked up from his paper, and said, “Yes, good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight.”

And Arabella said, “Oh, must we go to bed right now?”

And Araminta said, “Oh, must we go to bed right now?”

And their papa said, “Yes, indeed; yes, indeed. Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta. The clock is on the stroke of eight.”

Always, when it was bedtime, their papa and mamma would say, “Good-night, Arabella. Good-night, Araminta.”

And sometimes they were good, and sometimes they were bad; but they always ran away to bed.

And their dear mamma always went with them and tucked them in and kissed them, and then came away downstairs and left them. And sometimes they were good, and sometimes they were bad; but they always went to sleep.

But to-night their mamma said,

“Run and get your nighties, dears,
And get each a flannel gown,
And we’ll sit and rock you here,
Till you go to sleepy-town.”

And Arabella ran upstairs and got her nighty and her little flannel gown. And Araminta ran upstairs and got her nighty and her little flannel gown. And their mamma undressed Arabella, and their papa undressed Araminta.

Arabella’s little flannel gown was red, and Araminta’s little flannel gown was pink. When they had put them on over their nighties they were just as warm as toast.

Arabella’s kitty was playing with Araminta’s kitty on the rug before the fire. They were rolling and tumbling and chasing each other, and they looked so cunning and sweet.

And Arabella’s mamma took Arabella on her lap, and Araminta’s papa took Araminta on his lap.

Arabella said, “Oh, I want my kitty in my lap, mamma!”

And Araminta said, “Oh, I want my kitty in my lap, papa!”

So they jumped down and caught the kitties.

Their mamma rocked Arabella, and their papa rocked Araminta; and they sang to them,

“Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock,
Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock!”

And they sang it over, and over, and over.

“Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock,
Now a nice little rock,
And never mind the clock!”

And Arabella cuddled in her mamma’s arms, and hugged her little kitty close; and Araminta cuddled in her papa’s arms, and hugged her little kitty close.

And their mamma sang, and their papa sang;

“Now she goes to sleepy-town, sleepy-town, sleepy-town;
Cuddled in her little gown, here she goes to sleepy-town.”

And they sang it over, and over, and over.

“Now she goes to sleepy-town, sleepy-town, sleepy-town;
Cuddled in her little gown, here she goes to sleepy-town.”

And very soon Arabella could only just hear her mamma singing, and very soon Araminta could only just hear her papa singing, “Sleepy-town, sleepy-town.” And soon they couldn’t hear them at all. They were sound asleep!

And their mamma looked at their papa, and said, “Our precious little dears are both sound asleep.”

And their papa said, “Yes, our little pets have both reached sleepy-town.”

And Arabella’s mamma carried her upstairs and put her in her little bed, and Araminta’s papa carried her upstairs and put her in her little bed. And Arabella was hugging her white kitty up close in her arms and Araminta was hugging her black kitty up close in her arms. And the kitties were both sound asleep, too.

But Arabella’s kitty and Araminta’s kitty did not sleep with them all night—oh, no indeed! They had a nice little, warm little, soft little bed down in the basement, close to the furnace.

And their papa took the kitties out of their arms, and carried them down to their bed.

And Arabella slept, and slept, and slept, and slept, and slept. And Araminta slept, and slept, and slept, and slept, and slept.

And the little kitties in their soft little bed slept, and slept, too. All through the long, dark, beautiful night they slept.

And the sun came, and the morning came, and it was another day!

[C] From “Arabella and Araminta Stories.” Used by permission of publishers, Small, Maynard & Co., Boston.

THE GO-SLEEP STORY [D]

BY EUDORA S. BUMSTEAD

“How can I go to bed,” said Penny, the flossy dog, “till I say good-night to Baby Ray? He gives me part of his bread and milk, and pats me with his little, soft hand. It is bedtime now for dogs and babies. I wonder if he is asleep?”

So he trotted along in his silky, white nightgown till he found Baby Ray on the porch in mamma’s arms.

And she was telling him the same little story that I am telling you:

The doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said Snowdrop and Thistledown, the youngest children of Tabby, the cat, “till we have once more looked at Baby Ray? He lets us play with his blocks and ball, and laughs when we climb on the table. It is bedtime now for kitties and dogs and babies. Perhaps we shall find him asleep.” And this is what the kitties heard:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said the three little Bunnies, “till we have seen Baby Ray?” Then away they went in their white, velvet nightgowns as softly as three flakes of snow. And they, too, when they got as far as the porch, heard Ray’s mamma telling the same little story:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Three pretty little bunnies, with a leap, leap, leap,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said the four white Geese, “till we know that Baby Ray is all right? He loves to watch us sail on the duck-pond, and he brings us corn in his little blue apron. It is bedtime now for geese and rabbits and kitties and dogs and babies, and he really ought to be asleep.”

So they waddled away in their white, feather nightgowns, around by the porch, where they saw Baby Ray, and heard mamma tell the “Go-Sleep” story:

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep,
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep,
Three pretty little bunnies, with a leap, leap, leap,
Four geese from the duck-pond, deep, deep, deep,
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep.

“How can we go to bed,” said the five white Chicks, “till we have seen Baby Ray once more? He scatters crumbs for us and calls us. Now it is bedtime for chicks and geese and rabbits and kittens and dogs and babies, so little Ray must be asleep.”

Then they ran and fluttered in their downy, white nightgowns till they came to the porch, where little Ray was just closing his eyes, while mamma told the “Go-Sleep” story:

[D] Used by permission of The Youth’s Companion.

the land of nod

THE GENTLE DARK [E]

BY W. GRAHAME ROBERTSON

So it is over, the long bright Day,
And little Maid Twilight, quiet and meek,
Comes stealing along in her creep-mouse way
Whispering low—for she may not speak—
“The Gentle Dark is coming to play
At a game of Hide and Seek.”

Some babies are cross when she whispers them this,
And some are afraid and begin to cry.
I never can think what they find amiss.
Afraid of the Dark! I wonder why.
The Gentle Dark that falls like a kiss
Down from the sleepy sky.

O Gentle Dark, we know you are kind
By the lingering touch of your cool soft hand;
As over our eyes the veil you bind
We shut them tight at word of command,
You are only playing at Hoodman-Blind,
A game that we understand.

The voice is tender (O little one, hark!),
The eyes are kindly under the hood,
Blow out the candle, leave not a spark,
Trusting your friend as a playmate should.
Hold up your arms to the Gentle Dark,
The Dark that is kind and good.

[E] From “A Year of Song,” by W. Grahame Robertson; used by permission of the publishers, John Lane Company.

Humpty Dumpty

JINGLES

THE SLEEPY-TIME STORY[C]

THE GO-SLEEP STORY[D]

THE GENTLE DARK[E]

THE SLEEPY-TIME STORY [C]

THE GO-SLEEP STORY [D]

THE GENTLE DARK [E]