National Rhymes of the Nursery

"Ride a cock horse."—Page 70.

National Rhymes of the Nursery
With Introduction By
George Saintsbury
And Drawings By
Gordon Browne
London
Wells, Gardner, Darton & Co.
Paternoster Buildings, E.c.

INTRODUCTION

It is a good many years since Peacock, in one of those curiously ill-tempered and not particularly happy attacks on the Lake poets, with which he chose to diversify his earlier novels, conceived, as an ornament of "Mainchance Villa," a grand allegorical picture, depicting the most famous characters of English Nursery Tales, Rhymes, &c.—Margery Daw, Jack and Jill, the other Jack who built the House, the chief figures of "that sublime strain of immortal genius" called Dickory Dock, and the third Jack, Horner, eating a symbolic Christmas pie. At the date of Melincourt, in which this occurs, its even then admirable author was apt to shoot his arrows rather at a venture; and it may be hoped, without too much rashness, that he did not mean to speak disrespectfully of the "sublime strain of immortal genius" itself, but only of what he thought Wordsworth's corrupt following of that and similar things.

Nevertheless, if he had lived a little longer, or if (for he lived quite long enough) he had been in the mind for such game, he might have found fresh varieties of it in certain more modern handlings of the same subject. Since the Brothers Grimm founded modern folklore, it has required considerable courage to approach nursery songs and nursery tales in any but a spirit of the severest "scientism," which I presume to be the proper form for the method of those who call themselves "scientists." We have not only had investigations—some of them by no means unfruitful or uninteresting investigations—into certain things which are, or may be, the originals of these artless compositions in history or in popular manners. We have not only had some of their queer verbal jingles twisted back again into what may have been an articulate and authentic meaning. I do not know that many of them have been made out to be sun-myths; but that yesterday popular, to-day rather discredited, system of exposition is very evidently as applicable to them as to anything else. The older variety of mystical and moral interpretation having gone out of fashion before they had emerged from the contempt of the learned, it has not been much applied to them, though the temptation is great, for, as King Charles observes in "Woodstock," most things in the world remind one of the tales of Mother Goose.

But the most special attentions that nursery rhymes have received have, perhaps, taken the form of the elaborate and ingenious divisions attempted by Halliwell and others. Indeed, something of the kind has been so common that the absence here of anything similar may excite some surprise, and look like disrespect to a scientific age. The omission, however, is designed, and a reason or two may be rendered for it. Halliwell (to take the most generally known instance) has no less than seventeen compartments in which he stows remorselessly these "things that are old and pretty," to apply to them a phrase that Lamb loved. There are, it seems, historical nursery rhymes, literal nursery rhymes; nursery rhymes narrative, proverbial, scholastic, lyrical, riddlesome; rhymes dealing with charms, with gaffers and gammers, with games, with paradoxes, with lullabies, with jingles, with love and matrimony, with natural (I wish he had called it unnatural) history, with accumulative stories, with localities, with relics. It may be permitted to cry "Mercy on us," when one thinks of the poor little wildings, so full of nature and, if not ignorant of art, of an art so cunningly concealed, being subjected to the trimmings and torturings of the Ars Topiaria after this fashion. The division is clearly arbitrary and non-natural; it is often what logicians very properly object to as a "cross"-division; it leads to the inclusion of many things which are not properly nursery rhymes at all; and it necessitates, or at least gives occasion to, a vast amount of idle talk. For instance, take King Arthur, this way, that way, which way you please: as a hero of history, as a great central figure of romance, or even (I grieve to say a learned friend of mine is wont to speak of him so) as a "West-Welsh thief." Are we called upon in the very slightest degree to connect any of these Arthurs with the artist of the bag-pudding? to discuss what was the material that Queen Guinevere preferred for frying, and to select the most probable "noblemen" from the Table Round? Does anybody, except as a rather ponderous joke, care to discuss whether King Cole was really father of Constantine's mother, and had anything to do with Colchester? Though it may be admitted that a "Colchester carpet-bag," that is to say, a very thick steak all but sliced through and stuffed with oysters, would probably not have been unacceptable to the monarch as a preliminary to the bowl.

The simple fact seems to be, that one of Halliwell's partitions—"jingles"—will do for the whole seventeen, and do a great deal better than the other sixteen of them. It may be perfectly true that most of the things indicated in these class-names supplied, in this case and that, basis for the jingle, starting-points, texts, and so forth. But all genuine nursery rhymes (even in fragments such as "Martin Swart and his men, Sodledum [saddle them], sodledum," if it is genuine, and others where definite history comes in) have never become nursery rhymes until the historical fact has been practically forgotten by those who used them, and nothing but the metrical and musical attraction remains. Some of the alphabet and number rhymes may possibly (it is sad to have to confess it) have been composed with a deliberate purpose of instruction; but it is noticeable that these have never become quite the genuine thing, except in cases such as—

"Big A, little a, bouncing B,
The cat's in the cupboard, and she can't see,"

where the subtle tendency to nonsense takes the weak intention of sense on its back as a fox does a chicken and runs right away with it. Again, it would be rash to say that it is impossible to make out popular customs and popular beliefs from these texts. But it is quite certain that they have for the most part left the customs and the beliefs a long way behind them, that these things are, to vary the metaphor, merely in palimpsest relation to the present purport and contents of the rhymes.

Perhaps, therefore, while not grudging folklorists their perquisitions in this delightful region, and while acknowledging that there are many interesting things to be found out by them in it, we may be permitted to look at nursery rhymes from a rather different point of view. And from this point it will not, I think, be fanciful to see in them, to a great extent, the poetical appeal of sound as opposed to that of meaning expressed in its simplest and most unmistakable terms. We shall find in these pieces the two special pillars of all modern poetry, alliteration and rhyme, or at least assonance, which is only rhyme undeveloped. And we shall find something else, which I venture to call the attraction of the inarticulate. It is not necessary to take the cynical sense of the famous saying, that language was given to man to conceal his thoughts, in order to admit that in moments of more intense and genuine feeling, if not of thought, he does not as a rule use or at least confine himself to articulate speech. If the "little language" of mothers to babies be set down to a supposition that the object addressed does not understand, that will hardly explain the other "little language" of lovers to lovers, which has a tendency to be nearly as inarticulate as a cradle-song, and quite as corruptive of dictionary speech as a nursery rhyme. In the very stammering of rage there may be thought to be something more than a simple inability to choose between words; and in the moaning of sorrow something more than an inability to find suitable expression. All children—and children, as somebody (I forget who he was, but he was a wise man) has said, are usually very clever people till they get spoilt—fall naturally, long after they are quite able to express themselves as it is called rationally, into a sort of pleasant gibberish when they are alone and pleased, or even displeased. And I dare say that a fair number of very considerably grown-up folk, who have not only come to the legal years of discretion but to the poetical age of wisdom, do the like now and then.

"As one walks by oneself,
And talks to oneself,"

by the seaside or on a lonely country road, it must be a not infrequent experience of most people that one frequently falls into pure jingle and nonsense-verse of the nursery kind. In fact, it must have happened to more people than one, or one thousand, by the malice of a sudden corner or the like, to have been caught doing so to their great confusion, and to the comfortable conviction of the other party that he has met with an escaped lunatic.

I should myself, though I may not carry many people with me, go farther than this and say that this "attraction of the inarticulate," this allurement of mere sound and sequence, has a great deal more to do than is generally thought with the charm of the very highest poetry, and that no merely valuable thought presented without this accompaniment can possibly affect us as it does when it summons to its aid such concert of vowels and consonants as—

or as—

In the best nursery rhymes, as in the simpler and more genuine ballads which have so close a connection with them, we find this attraction of the inarticulate—this charm of pure sound, this utilising of alliteration and rhyme and assonance, and the cunning juxtaposition now of similar, now of contrary vowels—not in a passionate, but in a frank and simple form. Many of them probably, some of them certainly, had, as has been said, a definite meaning once, and we may attend to the folklorist as he expounds what it was or may have been; but for the most part they have very victoriously got the better of that meaning, have bid it, in their own lingo, "go to Spain," without the slightest meditation or back-thought whether Spain is the proper place for it or not. In that particular locus classicus "Spain" rhymes to "rain," and that is not merely the chief and principal, but the absolutely all-sufficient thing. So, too, there is no doubt a most learned explanation of the jargon (variously given and spelt)—

"Hotum-potum, paradise tantum, perry-merry-dictum, domaree,"

at which a friend of mine used to laugh consumedly, declaring that this cavalier coupling of "paradise tantum" "only paradise," was the nicest thing he knew. But the people who mellowed it into that form, and recited it afterwards, never cared one scrap for the meaning. They had got it into a pleasant jingle of vowels, a desirable sequence of consonants, and a good swing of cadence, and that was enough. When "Curlylocks" is invited to be "mine" by the promise "thou shalt sew a fine seam," does anybody suppose that this housewifely operation was much more (it may have been a little more) of a bait to the Curlylocks of those days than to the Curlylocks of these? Not at all. "Sew" and "seam" went naturally together, they made a pleasing alliteration, and the latter word rhymed to "cream," of which the Curlylocks of all days has been not unusually fond.

Not, of course, that there is not much wit and much wisdom, much picturesqueness and not a little pathos in our rhymes. All good men have justly admired these qualities in "Sing a Song of Sixpence" and "Ding-dong Bell," in "Margery Daw" and "Who Killed Cock Robin?" I rather suspect the wicked literary man of having more to do than genuine popular sentiment with the delightful progress and ending of "There was a Little Boy and a Little Girl." But the undoubtedly genuine notes are numerous enough and various enough, from that previously mentioned and admirable thrift of good King Arthur, or rather of Queen Guinevere (from whom, according to naughty romancers, we should have less expected it), to the sound common-sense of "Three Children;" from the decorative convention of "Little Boy Blue" to the arabesque and even grotesque of "Hey-diddle-diddle."

But I shall still contend that the main, the pervading, the characteristic attraction of them lies in their musical accompaniment of purely senseless sound, in their rhythm, rhyme, jingle, refrain, and the like, in the simplicity and freshness of their modulated form. For thus they serve as anthems and doxologies to the goddess whom in this context it is not satirical to call "Divine Nonsensia," who still in all lands and times condescends now and then to unbind the burden of meaning from the backs and brains of men, and lets them rejoice once more in pure, natural, senseless sound.

George Saintsbury.

INDEX TO FIRST LINES

List of Illustrations

Initials, Tailpieces, &c., &c.

National Rhymes of the Nursery

Old King Cole

Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.

[Pg 2]

Every fiddler, he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers.
Oh, there's none so rare,
As can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three!

[Pg 3]

Lock and Key

AM a gold lock.
I am a gold key.
I am a silver lock.

I am a silver key.
I am a brass lock.
I am a brass key.
I am a lead lock.
I am a lead key.
I am a monk lock.
I am a monk key!

The days of the month

Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
February has twenty-eight alone,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting leap-year, that's the time
When February's days are twenty-nine.

[Pg 4]

The lion and the unicorn
Were fighting for the crown;
The lion beat the unicorn
All round about the town.
Some gave them white bread,
And some gave them brown;
Some gave them plum-cake,
And sent them out of town.

[Pg 5]

My lady Wind, my lady Wind,
Went round about the house to find
A chink to get her foot in:
She tried the key-hole in the door,
She tried the crevice in the floor,
And drove the chimney soot in.
And then one night when it was dark,
She blew up such a tiny spark,
That all the house was pothered:
From it she raised up such a flame,
As flamed away to Belting Lane,
And White Cross folks were smothered.
And thus when once, my little dears,
A whisper reaches itching ears,
[Pg 6] The same will come, you'll find:
Take my advice, restrain the tongue,
Remember what old nurse has sung
Of busy lady Wind!

When good King Arthur ruled this land,
He was a goodly king;
He stole three pecks of barley-meal,
To make a bag-pudding.
[Pg 7] A bag-pudding the king did make,
And stuff'd it well with plums:
And in it put great lumps of fat,
As big as my two thumbs.
The king and queen did eat thereof,
And noblemen beside;
And what they could not eat that night,
The queen next morning fried.

There was a monkey

HERE was a monkey climb'd up a tree,
When he fell down, then down fell he.
There was a crow sat on a stone,
When he was gone, then there was none.
[Pg 8] There was an old wife did eat an apple,
When she had ate two, she had ate a couple.
There was a horse going to the mill,
When he went on, he stood not still.
There was a butcher cut his thumb,
When it did bleed, then blood did come.
There was a lackey ran a race,
When he ran fast, he ran apace.
There was a cobbler clowting shoon,
When they were mended, they were done.
There was a chandler making candle,
When he them strip, he did them handle.
There was a navy went into Spain,
When it return'd, it came again.

[Pg 9]

John Cook

John Cook had a little grey mare; he, haw, hum!
Her back stood up, and her bones they were bare: he, haw, hum!

John Cook was riding up Shuter's bank; he, haw, hum!
And there his nag did kick and prank; he, haw, hum!
[Pg 10] John Cook was riding up Shuter's hill; he, haw, hum!
His mare fell down, and she made her will; he, haw, hum!
The bridle and saddle were laid on the shelf; he, haw, hum!
If you want any more you may sing it yourself; he, haw, hum!

A diller, a dollar

DILLER, a dollar,
A ten o'clock scholar,
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock,
But now you come at noon.

[Pg 11]

Please to remember
The fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

[Pg 12]

I love my love

LOVE my love with an A,
because he's Agreeable.
I hate him because he's Avaricious.
He took me to the Sign of the Acorn,
And treated me with Apples.
His name's Andrew,
And he lives at Arlington.

(This can be continued through the alphabet.)

There was an old woman, as I've heard tell

There was an old woman, as I've heard tell,
She went to market her eggs for to sell;
She went to market all on a market-day,
And she fell asleep on the king's highway.

[Pg 13]

There came by a pedlar whose name was Stout,
He cut her petticoats all round about;
He cut her petticoats up to the knees,
Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze.
[Pg 14] When this little woman first did wake,
She began to shiver and she began to shake,
She began to wonder and she began to cry,
"Oh! deary, deary me, this is none of I!
"But if it be I, as I do hope it be,
I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me;
If it be I, he'll wag his little tail,
And if it be not I, he'll loudly bark and wail."
Home went the little woman all in the dark,
Up got the little dog, and he began to bark;
He began to bark, so she began to cry,
"Oh! deary, deary me, this is none of I!"

[Pg 15]

Little Robin Redbreast

ITTLE Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went Pussy cat, and down went he;
Down came Pussy cat, and away Robin ran;
Says little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can."
Little Robin Redbreast jump'd upon a wall,
Pussy cat jump'd after him, and almost got a fall,
Little Robin chirp'd and sang, and what did Pussy say?
Pussy cat said "Mew," and Robin jump'd away.

St. Swithin's Day

St. Swithin's day, if thou dost rain,
For forty days it will remain:
St. Swithin's day, if thou be fair,
For forty days 'twill rain na mair.

[Pg 16]

Higgledy piggledy

IGGLEDY piggledy
Here we lie,
Pick'd and pluck'd,
And put in a pie.
My first is snapping, snarling, growling.
My second's industrious, romping, and prowling.
Higgledy; piggledy
Here we lie,
Pick'd and pluck'd,
And put in a pie. (currant)

Little Tommy Tittlemouse

Little Tommy Tittlemouse
Lived in a little house;
He caught fishes
In other men's ditches.

[Pg 17]

Little Tommy Tittle Mouse

[Pg 19]

[Pg 18]

Gay go up

AY go up and gay go down,
To ring the bells of London town.
Bull's eyes and targets,
Say the bells of St. Marg'ret's.
Brickbats and tiles,
Say the bells of St. Giles'.
Halfpence and farthings,
Say the bells of St. Martin's.
Oranges and lemons,
Say the bells of St. Clement's.
Pancakes and fritters,
Say the bells of St. Peter's.
[Pg 20] Two sticks and an apple,
Say the bells at Whitechapel.
Old Father Baldpate,
Say the slow bells at Aldgate.
You owe me ten shillings,
Say the bells at St. Helen's.
Pokers and tongs,
Say the bells at St. John's.
Kettles and pans,
Say the bells at St. Ann's.
When will you pay me?
Say the bells at Old Bailey.
When I grow rich,
Say the bells at Shoreditch.
[Pg 21] Pray when will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.
I am sure I don't know,
Says the great bell at Bow.

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head.

[Pg 22]

Peter Piper

ETER PIPER picked a peck of pickled pepper;
A peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked;
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper,
Where's the peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked?

Three children

HREE children sliding on the ice
Upon a summer's day,
It so fell out, they all fell in,
The rest they ran away.
Now had these children been at home,
Or sliding on dry ground,
Ten thousand pounds to one penny
They had not all been drown'd.
[Pg 23] You parents all that children have,
And you that have got none,
If you would have them safe abroad,
Pray keep them safe at home.

Humpty Dumpty.

Humpty Dumpty sate on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Cannot put Humpty Dumpty together again.

[Pg 24]

London Bridge

ONDON Bridge is broken down,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
London Bridge is broken down,
With a gay lady.
How shall we build it up again?
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
How shall we build it up again?
With a gay lady.
Silver and gold will be stole away,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
Silver and gold will be stole away,
With a gay lady.
Build it up again with iron and steel,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
Build it up with iron and steel,
With a gay lady.
[Pg 25] Iron and steel will bend and bow,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
Iron and steel will bend and bow,
With a gay lady.
Build it up with wood and clay,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
Build it up with wood and clay,
With a gay lady.
Wood and clay will wash away,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
Wood and clay will wash away,
With a gay lady.
Build it up with stone so strong,
Dance o'er my Lady Lee;
Huzza! 'twill last for ages long,
With a gay lady.

[Pg 26]

Elsie Marley

LSIE MARLEY is grown so fine,
She won't get up to serve the swine,
But lies in bed till eight or nine,
And surely she does take her time.
And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?
The wife who sells the barley, honey;
She won't get up to serve her swine,
And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?

[Pg 27]

There was a little boy

There was a little boy and a little girl
Lived in an alley;
Says the little boy to the little girl,
"Shall I, oh! shall I?"
Says the little girl to the little boy,
"What shall we do?"
Says the little boy to the little girl,
"I will kiss you."

How many miles

OW many miles is it to Babylon?—
Threescore miles and ten.
Can I get there by candle-light?—
Yes, and back again!
If your heels are nimble and light,
You may get there by candle-light.

[Pg 28]

Curly locks

URLY locks! curly locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine;
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream!

[Pg 30]

Curly Locks! Curly Locks!

Four brothers over the sea

I had four brothers over the sea,
Perrie, Merrie, Dixie, Dominie.
And they each sent a present unto me,
Petrum, Partrum, Paradise, Temporie,
Perrie, Merrie, Dixie, Dominie.

The first sent a chicken, without any bones;
The second sent a cherry, without any stones.
Petrum, &c.
[Pg 31] The third sent a book, which no man could read;
The fourth sent a blanket, without any thread.
Petrum, &c.
How could there be a chicken without any bones?
How could there be a cherry without any stones?
Petrum, &c.
How could there be a book which no man could read?
How could there be a blanket without a thread?
Petrum, &c.
When the chicken's in the egg-shell, there are no bones;
When the cherry's in the blossom, there are no stones.
Petrum, &c.
[Pg 32] When the book's in ye press no man it can read;
When the wool is on the sheep's back, there is no thread.
Petrum, &c.

Two, three, and four legs

Two legs sat upon three legs,
With one leg in his lap;

In comes four legs,
And runs away with one leg.
[Pg 33] Up jumps two legs,
Catches up three legs,

Throws it after four legs,

And makes him bring back one leg.

[Pg 34]

The dove and the wren

HE dove says coo, coo, what shall I do?
I can scarce maintain two.
Pooh, pooh! says the wren, I have got ten,
And keep them all like gentlemen!

A puzzle

AVE you seen the old woman of Banbury Cross,
Who rode to the fair on the top of her horse?
And since her return she still tells, up and down,
Of the wonderful lady she saw when in town.
She has a small mirror in each of her eyes,
And her nose is a bellows of minnikin size;
[Pg 35] There's a neat little drum fix'd in each of her ears,
Which beats a tattoo to whatever she hears.
She has in each jaw a fine ivory mill,
And day after day she keeps grinding it still.
Both an organ and flute in her small throat are placed,
And they are played by a steam engine worked in her breast.
But the wonder of all, in her mouth it is said,
She keeps a loud bell that might waken the dead;
And so frightened the woman, and startled the horse,
That they galloped full speed back to Banbury Cross.

Long legs, crooked thighs,
Little head and no eyes. (a pair of tongs)

[Pg 36]

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man!
Make me a cake, as fast as you can:

Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T,
Put it in the oven for Tommy and me.

ABBIT, Rabbit, Rabbit Pie!
Come, my ladies, come and buy;
Else your babies they will cry.

[Pg 37]

The man in the wilderness

HE man in the wilderness asked me,
How many strawberries grew in the sea?
I answered him, as I thought good,
As many as red herrings grew in the wood.

One old Oxford ox

NE old Oxford ox opening oysters;
Two tee-totums totally tired of trying to trot to Tedsbury;
Three thick thumping tigers tickling trout;
Four fat friars fanning fainting flies;
Five frippy Frenchmen foolishly fishing for flies;
Six sportsmen shooting snipes;
Seven Severn salmons swallowing shrimps;
Eight Englishmen eagerly examining Europe;
Nine nimble noblemen nibbling nonpareils;
[Pg 38] Ten tinkers tinkling upon ten tin tinder-boxes with ten tenpenny tacks;
Eleven elephants elegantly equipt;
Twelve typographical topographers typically translating types.

I like little pussy

I like little pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don't hurt her she'll do me no harm;
So I'll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But pussy and I very gently will play.

[Pg 39]

There Was a Man of Newington

There was a man of Newington,
And he was wond'rous wise,
He jump'd into a quickset hedge,
And scratch'd out both his eyes:
But when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main
He jump'd into another hedge,
And scratch'd 'em in again.

[Pg 40]

There was a little Guinea-pig

HERE was a little Guinea-pig,
Who, being little, was not big;
He always walked upon his feet
And never fasted when he eat.
When from a place he ran away,
He never at that place did stay;
And while he ran, as I am told,
He ne'er stood still for young or old.
He often squeak'd and sometimes vi'lent,
And when he squeak'd he ne'er was silent;
Though ne'er instructed by a cat,
He knew a mouse was not a rat.
One day, as I am certified,
He took a whim and fairly died;
And, as I'm told by men of sense,
He never has been living since.

[Pg 41]

Little Miss Muffet

ITTLE Miss Muffet,
She sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey;

There came a spider,
And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

[Pg 42]

The house that Jack built

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

[Pg 44]

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
[Pg 45] That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

[Pg 46]

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay the house that Jack built.

Handy-Spandy

ANDY-SPANDY, Jack-a-dandy,
Loves plum-cake and sugar-candy.
He bought some at a grocer's shop,
And pleased, away he went, hop, hop, hop.

[Pg 47]

Doctor Foster

Doctor Foster went to Glo'ster,
In a shower of rain;

He stepped in a puddle, up to his middle,
And never went there again.

[Pg 48]

"HE'S UNDER THE HAY-COCK FAST ASLEEP."

Little Boy Blue

ITTLE Boy Blue, come blow up your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn;
Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep?
He's under the hay-cock fast asleep.
Will you wake him? No, not I;
For if I do, he'll be sure to cry.

As I was going to St. Ives

As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives,
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits:
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
How many were there going to St. Ives?

[Pg 51]

Cushy cow bonny

Cushy cow bonny,
Let down thy milk,
And I will give thee a gown of silk;
A gown of silk and a silver tee,
If thou wilt let down thy milk to me.

A carrion crow

A carrion crow sat on an oak,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do,
Watching a tailor shape his coat;
Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow,
[Pg 52] Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do.
Wife, bring me my old bent bow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do,
That I may shoot yon carrion crow;
Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do.

The tailor he shot and missed his mark,
[Pg 53] Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do,
And shot his own sow quite through the heart;
Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do.

Jack Sprat

Jack Sprat could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean;

And so, betwixt them both, [you see]
They licked the platter clean.

[Pg 54]

The Cuckoo

HE cuckoo's a fine bird,
He sings as he flies;
He brings us good tidings.
He tells us no lies.

He sucks little birds' eggs,
To make his voice clear;
And when he sings "cuckoo!"
The summer is near.

Five toes

1. "Let us go to the wood," says this pig;
2. "What to do there?" says that pig;
3. "To look for mother," says this pig;
4. "What to do with her?" says that pig;
5. "To kiss her, to kiss her," says this pig.

[Pg 55]

One misty moisty

One misty moisty morning
When cloudy was the weather,

There I met an old man
Clothed all in leather;
[Pg 56] Clothed all in leather,
With cap under his chin,—
How do you do, and how do you do,
And how do you do again!

My father he died

Y father he died, but I can't tell you how,
He left me six horses to drive in my plough:
With my wing wang waddle oh,
Jack sing saddle oh,
Blowsey boys buble oh,
Under the broom,
I sold my six horses and I bought me a cow,
I'd fain have made a fortune but did not know how:
[Pg 57] With my wing wang waddle oh,
Jack sing saddle oh,
Blowsey boys buble oh,
Under the broom.
I sold my cow, and I bought me a calf;
I'd fain have made a fortune, but lost the best half;
With my wing wang waddle oh,
Jack sing saddle oh,
Blowsey boys buble oh,
Under the broom.
I sold my calf, and I bought me a cat;
A pretty thing she was, in my chimney corner sat:
With my wing wang waddle oh,
Jack sing saddle oh,
Blowsey boys buble oh,
Under the broom.
[Pg 58]
I sold my cat, and bought me a mouse;
He carried fire in his tail, and burnt down my house:
With my wing wang waddle oh,
Jack sing saddle oh,
Blowsey boys buble oh,
Under the broom.

For every evil under the sun

For every evil under the sun,
There is a remedy, or there is none.
If there be one, seek till you find it;
If there be none, never mind it.

[Pg 59]

Where Have You Been All The Day?

"Where have you been all the day,
My boy Tammy?"
"I've been all the day,
Courting of a lady gay:
But oh! she's too young
To be taken from her mammy."
[Pg 60] "What Work can she do,
My boy Tammy?
Can she bake and can she brew,
My boy Tammy?"
"She can brew and she can bake,
And she can make our wedding cake;
But oh! she's too young
To be taken from her mammy."
"What age may she be?
What age may she be?
My boy Tammy?"
"Twice two, twice seven,
Twice ten, twice eleven:
But oh! she's too young
To be taken from her mammy."

[Pg 61]

Girls and boys, come out to play

Girls and boys, come out to play,
The moon doth shine as bright as day;
Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
And come with your playfellows into the street.
Come with a whoop, come with a call,
Come with a good will or not at all.
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A halfpenny roll will serve us all.
You find milk, and I'll find flour,
And we'll have a pudding in half-an-hour.

[Pg 62]

A man of words and not of deeds