| Humpty-Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall; Not all the King's horses, nor all the King's men, Could set Humpty-Dumpty up again. |
Attempts have been made to show how that was suggested by the fall of a bold bad baron who lived in the days of King John; but every child more than ten years old knows that the lines present a conundrum, the answer to which is—an egg. And yet, were it no conundrum, but only a nonsense rhyme, its fascination for the budding intellect would be no less. It is enough when, with the jingle of rhyme, the imagination, is tickled, as in—
| Hey diddle dumplin' my son John, Went to his bed with his trowsers on; One shoe off and the other shoe on, Hey diddle dumplin', my son John; |
or—
| Cripple Dick upon a stick, And Sandy on a soo, Ride away to Galloway To buy a pund o' woo'; |
or yet again in—
| Sing a sang o' saxpence, A baggie fu' o' rye, Four-and-twenty blackbirds, Bakit in a pie. When the pie was opened The birds began to sing; And wasna that a dainty dish To set before the King? The King was in his counting-house Counting out his money, The Queen was in the parlour Eating bread and honey, The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes, When by came a blackbird And snapped aff her nose. |
For such supreme nonsense no historical origin need be sought, surely. Yet part of the latter has been at least applied to a historical personage in a way that is worth recalling. Dr. H. J. Pye, who was created Poet Laureate in succession to Thomas Warton, in 1790, was, as a poet, regularly made fun of. In his New Year Odes there were perpetual references to the coming spring: and, in the dearth of more important topics, each tree and field-flower were described: and the lark, and every other bird that could be brought into rhyme, were sure to appear; and his poetical and patriotic olla podrida ultimately provoked the adaptation:—
| When the Pye was opened, The birds began to sing, And was not that a dainty dish, To set before a king? |