[JINGLE.]
I jumped on the back of a dragon-fly,
And flew and flew till I reached the sky.
I pulled down a cloud that was hiding the blue,
And all the wee stars came tumbling through.
They tumbled down and they tumbled round,
And turned into flowers as they touched the ground.
So come with me, little children, come,
And down in the meadow I'll pick you some.
[LITTLE OLD BABY.]
Little old baby, pretty old baby,
Screams and cries at his little old bath,
Pours on the head of his little old mother
All the full vials of baby wrath.