[CHAPTER V.]
PEASE PORRIDGE HOT
Billy sat under the Singing Tree. "Time for supper, isn't it, Mr. Tree?" he said; "I'm as hungry as a wolf."
Immediately the tree commenced to sing, "Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, pease porridge in the pot nine days old," and with a rustle of leaves it handed down three kinds of porridge. Billy chose some of the hot pease porridge and found it very good.
Then it sang, "Little fishey in the brook, papa caught it with a hook, mamma fried it in a pan and Billy ate it like a man," at the same time handing him a sizzling hot fish on a clean white platter. The fish was done to a turn and it's no wonder Billy left nothing but the bones.
Next came "Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man! so I will, master, as fast as I can; pat it and prick it and mark it with B; put in the oven for Billy and me."
"There," said Billy, when that was finished, "I feel as though I'd had almost enough; but a little pie would——"
Billy never wanted for plenty to eat.—Page 64.