A paddock is a frog or a toad, it seems. To either small cold hand there are four cold fingers and a thumb; and in old times, says Halliwell, our ancestors had distinct names for each of the five toes and for each of the five fingers. The fingers were called thumb, toucher, longman, leche-man, little-man: leche-man being the ring-finger, because in that "there is a sinew very tender and small that reaches to the heart." In Essex they used to call them (and still may)—Tom Thumbkin, Bess Bumpkin, Long Linkin, Bill Wilkin, and Little Dick. In Scotland: Thumbkin, Lickpot, Langman, Berrybarn and Pirlie Winkie.
And here are some more from Dr. Courtenay Dunn's Natural History of the Child—a book which is graced with as handsome a frontispiece as ever I've seen:
| Thumb | - Tommy Tomkins | or Bill Milker. |
| Forefinger | - Billy Wilkins | " Tom Thumper. |
| Third finger | - Long Larum | " Long lazy. |
| Fourth finger | - Betsy Bedlam | " Cherry Bumper. |
| Little finger | - Little Bob | " Tippity, Tippity-Town-end. |
Toes:
| Big toe | - Tom Barker | or Toe Tipe. |
| Toe 2 | - Long Rachel | " Penny Wipe. |
| Toe 3 | - Minnie Wilkin | " Tommy Tistle. |
| Toe 4 | - Milly Larkin | " Billy Whistle. |
| Little toe | - Little Dick | " Tripping-go. |
So (if you wish) you can secretly name not only your fingers, toes, rooms, chairs and tables, etc., but also the stars in their courses, the trees in your orchard, and have your own privy countersign for the flowers you like best. "Give a dog a bad name, and hang him," says the old proverb. Give anything a good name, and it is yours for ever. There is the tale of the unhappy gardener in the Isle of Rumm who without ill intention called a snapdragon an antirrhinum. And there arose out of the hillside a Monster named Zobj—but I haven't the space for the rest. The gardener of course meant well; but when he heard the Voice counting his last moments, not in common English, but in what Wensleydale Knitters still remember of the Norse—Yahn, Jyahn, Tether, Mether, Mumph, Hither, Lither, Auver, Dauver, Die—well, he died before he was due, so to speak.
While we are on this subject, here is a Face Rhyme:
Bo Peeper
Nose Dreeper