Melons! melons!
All day long,
Joe walks the street
Selling melons.
"Ho! ripe and sweet!"
Is his song,
All day long
Selling melons.
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HOW MANY THINGS IN MY POCKET?
Tap at your brain and unlock it,
Then count all the things in my pocket:
A nail and a screw,
A screw-driver, too;
A cent and a dollar,
A tumbled-up collar;
A neck-tie and glove,
A note from my love;
Two peppermint-drops,
A couple of tops;
A buckle, a ball,
The head of a doll;
A top-snare, of course,
A six-penny horse;
Four pins, always handy,
And three sticks of candy;
Ten nuts and a pen,
A squirt—and what then?
Why, my knife, to be sure,
And an old wooden skewer;
That's all—oh! a string,
A galvanized ring;
A pistol (but no one could cock it),
And that's all I had in my pocket.
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THE GALLANT OUTRIDERS.
"Where have you been, my children;
Where have you been, I pray?"
"Oh, but we've been a-riding,
A-riding the live-long day."
"And how did you ride, my darlings;
And where did all of you go?"
"We all of us went on horseback,
A-galloping in a row.