Books Designed and Illustrated
By Robert Seaver

YE BUTCHER, YE BAKER, YE CANDLESTICK-MAKER.
By Robert Seaver. With wood-cut illustrations.
16mo, 50 cents, net. Postage 5 cents.

FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY.
By Thomas Hood. Illustrated with old-fashioned cuts.
Square 18mo, 50 cents, net. Postage 5 cents.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN.
By William Cowper. With wood-cut illustrations.
Square 18mo, 50 cents, net. Postage 5 cents.

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
Boston and New York

Ye Butcher, Ye Baker,
Ye Candlestick-Maker

Ye Butcher, Ye Baker,
Ye Candlestick-Maker

Being Sundry Amusing and Instructive
VERSES for both Old and Young.
Adorned with Numerous Woodcuts

By ROBERT SEAVER

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1908

COPYRIGHT 1908 BY ROBERT SEAVER

All Rights Reserved

TO
Roberta

Ye Contents

Ye Butcher, Ye Baker,
Ye Candlestick-Maker

Ye Housewife

Ye Housewife in her kitchen white,

She scours ye pots and pans;

She kneads ye bread, and bakes it too,

With ever busy hands.

Ye children she sends off to school,

And then doth sew and darn,

And knits ye goodman mitts and hose

Of honest homespun yarn.

Yet though she toileth all ye day,

She hath no cause to fret:

Ye Adversary hath not made

Ye Modern Servant yet.

Ye Baker

Ye school-boy on his way to school

Ye bake-shop doth espy,

Where men of gingerbread in state

With eyes of currants lie.

Ye good-wife takes her Sunday roast

Where his great ovens yawn,

And fragrant odors fill ye air

At noon, and night, and morn.

All this was many years ago,

Before Ye Canner came,

With Fifty-nine Varieties

To advertise his name.

Ye Doctor

Ye Doctor, on his faithful nag,

Rides all ye country round,

And in his saddlebags great store

Of physic may be found.

He cups and bleeds with right good will,

With pill and drench doth ply,

Until his patient must get well,

Unless he first doth die.

Ye ancient steed is seen no more,

Ye doctor telephones

An absent treatment, or, perchance,

Manipulates ye bones.

Ye Town Crier

Ye Crier walks all over town

And loudly rings his bell,

And to ye gaping villagers

His messages doth tell.

Ye child that’s strayed, ye auction sale,

Ye good news and ye ill,

He cries it forth upon ye street,

And all may hear who will.

Ye Crier he hath gone his way,

And for him oft we grieve

When papers print so many things

Nobody can believe.

Ye Tythingman

Ye Tythingman, that watchful one,

He doth ye order keep,

In church he walketh up ye aisle

To see who goes to sleep.

And when he spyeth one who nods,

He riseth in his might,

And with his rod right lustily

Doth rap ye luckless wight.

But now ye tythingman hath found

His duties few and small,

For those who go keep wide awake,

Ye rest go not at all.

Ye Pirate

Ye Pirate sails ye briny deep:

Ye Jolly Roger flies

In search of some rich galleon

To make a goodly prize.

His motley crew of murderous mien

Are rovers bold and free,

And sailors tremble at his name

When they put forth to sea.

Ye pirate now stays safe ashore,

And authors rate him when

He robs ye good ship “Copyright”

Of thoughts of brighter men.

Ye Pedagogue

Ye Pedagogue, that learned man,

He rules ye district school,

And every day he doth instil

Ye youth with learning full.

Ye Rule of Three he doth explain

Unto his listening class,

And ye three R’s he doth expound

Unto each youth and lass.

Each day he doth discharge full well

Ye duties of his station,

And never has a Theory

On Higher Education.

Ye Chemist

Ye Chemist fills his little shop

With drugs of fearsome smell,

He weigheth out ye ipecac

And eke ye calomel.

Ye herbs he gathered in ye fall

Hang on his beams to dry,

And they are nauseous to ye taste

And dusty to ye eye.

Ye old-time druggist, musty soul,

Was honored in his age,

Man had not reached ye College Ice

And Picture Postal stage.

Ye Merchant

Ye Merchant in his counting-room

In broadcloth fine arrayed,

He sendeth his great ships away

All in ye China trade.

And while his warehouse fills with goods

Ye merchant laughs with glee,

For in ye town who can be found

One half so rich as he?

Ye merchant of ye olden days,

No wonder that he laughed,

He nothing knew of Railway Rates,

Or High Finance, or Graft.

Ye Printer

Ye Printer doth right merrily

His occupation ply;

Ye type he sets and proof he reads

With microscopic eye.

And when ye chap-book all is done

He sallies forth with speed

To cry his wares upon ye street

For all who care to read.

Ye Printer wrought with right good will,

Nor ever was afraid

Of ye Typographic Union

Or ye Printers’ Board of Trade.

Ye Brewer

Ye Brewer is a merry man,

Beloved by all ye town,

And he’s renowned both far and wide,

All for his ale so brown.

And all ye thirsty villagers

Do loudly praise his name,

An honored village father he,

Who well deserves his fame.

Ye brewer of ye modern day

Doth make great moan because

Of ye Pure Food Regulations

And ye Local Option Laws.

Ye Robber

Ye Robber of ye olden day,

A jovial blade was he;

A short life and a merry one,

And then ye gallows-tree.

On rich and poor alike he preyed,

Nor ever did endow

A Learned University

As Robber Chiefs do now.

Ye modern robber is not known

By such an ugly name:

He does it more politely.

But he does it, just ye same.

Ye Tailor

Ye Tailor on his lowly bench

He stitcheth all ye day.

From morn till night his needle plies

On clothes both grave and gay.

Ye greatcoat for ye village squire,

Ye judge’s smallclothes fine,

Ye trainband captain’s uniform

That doth with splendor shine.

Ye tailor works in great content,

He is a happy man,

No clothes are yet constructed

On ye Ready-fitted Plan.

Ye Chandler

Ye tallow chandler in his shop,

He makes ye tallow dip,

And cuts ye wicks and fills ye moulds,

Ye while he drinks his flip.

Full many a studious gentleman

Doth hie him forth to buy:

Ye lamp of knowledge at his shop,

Is here for all to try.

So works ye tallow chandler,

Nor wotteth that he must,

In modern days, give up his ways

To Midnight Oil, their Trust.

Ye Student

Ye Student burns ye midnight oil,

And ponderous tomes doth pore,

His mind he fills at Wisdom’s fount

With classic volumes’ lore.

His thesis is a wondrous thing,

Of solid breadth and weight.

Ye higher things of human life

His brow do corrugate.

Alas! for now it is not so,

For all ye Student’s dream

Is how to satisfy ye Coach,

And make ye Football Team.

Ye Husbandman

Anon ye jocund Husbandman,

He tills ye fertile mead;

He plows ye land and rakes it well,

And eke he sows ye seed.

From early morn till candle light

He toils with might and main,

Nor ever stops, but busy keeps

Through wind and snow and rain.

Yet though he toils full lustily,

He’s free from modern ills:

He has no Motor Car, and so

He pays no Chauffeur’s bills.

Ye Jester

Ye Jester, dressed in cap and bells,

With jokes adorned his chat,

And every joke was all his own,

And all his jokes were pat.

No jokes were old in days of yore,

No stories had been told,

And so ye wit had ample scope

His humor to unfold.

Ye modern wit’s in sorry plight,

Re-writing o’er and o’er

Ye jokes that ancient jesters told

Five hundred years before.

FAITHLESS
NELLY GRAY

BY THOMAS HOOD

With seventeen humorous cuts drawn by
ROBERT SEAVER and appropriate
setting. Square 18mo, 50 cents, net.

The classic and pathetic ballad of the fortunes of Ben
Battle is perhaps the most famous of Hood’s humorous
poems. The seeming crudity of the laughable
pictures heightens the humor of Hood’s punning
verses, and the result is a holiday booklet which
cannot fail to amuse.

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK

THE DIVERTING
HISTORY OF
John Gilpin

BY WILLIAM COWPER

Together with some thirty-two original wood-cut
engravings by Robert Seaver and a
decorative binding in half calf, with paper
sides, square 18mo, 50 cents, net.

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
4 Park Street, Boston
85 Fifth Ave., New York

The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS
U · S · A

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.