Chapter 2
Simple Simon went a-fishing, For to catch a whale; All the water he had got, Was in his mother's pail.
Simple Simon went to look If plums grew on a thistle, He pricked his fingers very much, Which made poor Simon whistle.
Then Simple Simon went a-hunting, For to catch a hare; He rode on a goat about the street, But could not find one there.
He went for water in a sieve But soon it all run through; And now poor Simple Simon Bids you all adieu!
I had a little hobby horse, And it was dapple grey, Its head was made of pea-straw, Its tail was made of hay. I sold it to an old woman For a copper groat; And I'll not sing my song again Without a new coat.
He that would thrive, Must rise at five; He that hath thriven, May lie till seven; And he that by the plough would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig and away he run; The pig was eat, And Tom was beat, And Tom ran crying down the street.
A Farmer went trotting upon his grey mare, Bumpety bumpety bump, With his daughter behind him so rosy and fair, Lumpety lumpety lump.
A raven cried croak, and they all tumbled down Bumpety bumpety bump; The mare broke her knees and the farmer his crown, Lumpety lumpety lump.
The mischievous raven flew laughing away, Bumpety bumpety bump, And vowed he would serve them the same next day, Lumpety lumpety lump.
Old woman, old woman, shall we go a-shearing? Speak a little louder, sir, I am very thick o' hearing. Old woman, old woman, shall I kiss you dearly? Thank you, kind sir, I hear very clearly.
Little Tommy Tittlemouse Lived in a little house; He caught fishes In other men's ditches.
Little Miss Muffett She sat on a tuffett, Eating of curds and whey; There came a little spider Who sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffett away.
Eggs, butter, cheese, bread, Stick, stock, stone, dead, Stick him up, stick him down, Stick him in the old man's crown.
Rain, rain, Go away, Come again April day; Little Johnny Wants to play.
Tom he was a Pi-per's son, He learned to play when he was young; But all the tunes that he could play, Was "O-ver the hills and far away."
Now, Tom with his pipe made such a noise, That he pleas-ed both the girls and boys, And they all stop-ped to hear him play, "O-ver the hills and far a-way."
Tom with his pipe did play with such skill, That those who heard him could ne-ver stand still; When-e-ver they heard him they be-gan to dance, Even pigs on their hind-legs would after him prance.
He met old Dame Trott with a basket of eggs, He u-sed his pipe and she u-sed her legs; She danc-ed a-bout till the eggs were all broke, She be-gan to fret, but he laugh-ed at the joke.
He saw a cross fel-low was beat-ing an ass, Hea-vy la-den with pots, pans, dish-es, and glass; He took out his pipe and play-ed them a tune, And the Jack-ass's load was light-en-ed full soon.
I had a little dog, they called him Buff, I sent him to the shop for a three cents worth of snuff: But he lost the bag, and spilt the snuff, So take that cuff, and that's enough.
Molly, my sister, and I fell out, And what do you think it was about? She loved coffee, and I loved tea, And that was the reason we couldn't agree.
Solomon Grundy, Born on a Monday, Christened on Tuesday, Married on Wednesday, Very ill on Thursday, Worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday, This is the end Of Solomon Grundy.
Handy Spandy, Jack a-dandy, Loves plum-cake and sugar-candy; He bought some at a grocer's shop, And out he came, hop-hop-hop.
Go to bed Tom, go to bed Tom-- Merry or sober, go to bed Tom.
Mary had a pretty bird, Feathers bright and yellow, Slender legs, upon my word He was a pretty fellow. The sweetest notes he always sung, Which much delighted Mary, And often where the cage was hung, She stood to hear Canary.
Lit-tle boy blue, come blow your horn; The sheep's in the mea-dow, the cow's in the corn. Where's the lit-tle boy that looks af-ter the sheep? He's un-der the hay-cock fast a-sleep.
I had a lit-tle po-ny; They call-ed him dap-ple grey. I lent him to a lady, To ride a mile a-way. She whip-ped him, she slash-ed him, She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my po-ny now, For all the lady's hire.
Pe-ter White Will ne'er go right, Would you know the rea-son why? He fol-lows his nose, Wher-ever he goes, And that stands all aw-ry.
See, see. What shall I see? A horse's head where his tail should be.
I had a little hen, the prettiest ever seen, She washed me the dishes, and kept the house clean: She went to the mill to fetch me some flour, She brought it home in less than an hour, She baked me my bread, she brewed me my ale, She sat by the fire, and told many a fine tale.
Ride a cock horse To Ban-bu-ry Cross, To see lit-tle Jen-ny Up-on a white horse. Rings on her fin-gers, Bells on her toes, She shall have mu-sic Wher-ever she goes.
Pus-sy cat ate the dump-lings, the dump-lings; Pus-sy cat ate the dump-lings. Mam-ma stood by, and cried, "Oh, fie! Why did you eat the dump-lings?"
I have a lit-tle sister; they call her Peep, Peep. She wades the wa-ter, deep, deep, deep; She climbs the moun-tains, high, high, high. Poor lit-tle thing! she has but one eye.
1. This lit-tle pig went to mar-ket.
2. This lit-tle pig stay-ed at home.
3. This lit-tle pig got roast beef.
4. This lit-tle pig got none.
5. This lit-tle pig cried wee, wee, all the way home.
One misty, moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, I chanced to meet an old man clothed all in leather. He began to compliment, and I began to grin, How do you do, and how do you do? And how do you do again?
Father Short came down the lane, Oh! I'm obliged to hammer and smite From four in the morning till eight at night, For a bad master and a worse dame.
There was an old woman had three sons, Jeffery, Jemmy and John; Jeffery was hung, and Jemmy was drowned, And Johnny was never more found: So there was an end to these three sons, Jeffery, Jemmy and John.
Hink, minx! the old witch winks, The fat begins to fry: There's nobody at home but jumping Joan, Father, mother, and I.
CLIMBING ON BACKS OF CHAIRS.
What, climb on the back of a chair! O Henry, how can you do so? Sometime, if you do not take care, You will get a most terrible throw.
Suppose grand-mama had got up, Pray what had become of you then? Indeed, my dear Henry, I hope You never will do so again.
Your poor little teeth may be broke, Or your face get some terrible bruise, Indeed, and indeed, 'tis no joke, And you must not do just as you choose.
For suppose there's no danger at all, 'Tis your duty to mind what I say; So I'll punish you, Henry, next time, You _dare_ my commands disobey.
THE SQUIRREL.
"The Squirrel is happy, the Squirrel is gay," Little Mary once said to her brother; "He has nothing to do, or think of but play, And to jump from one bough to another."
The Squirrel, dear Mary, is merry and wise, For true wisdom and joy go together; He lays up in Summer his Winter supplies, And then he don't mind the cold weather.
THE SHEEP.
Lazy Sheep, pray tell me why In the pleasant fields you lie, Eating grass and daisies white, From the morning till the night? Every thing can something do, But what kind of use are you?
Nay, my little master, nay, Do not serve me so, I pray; Don't you see the wool that grows On my back, to make your clothes? Cold, and very cold you'd get, If I did not give you it.
True, it seems a pleasant thing To nip the daisies in the spring, But many chilly nights I pass On the cold and dewy grass, Or pick a scanty dinner where All the common's brown and bare.
Then the farmer comes at last, When the merry spring is past, And cuts my woolly coat away, To warm you in the winter's day; Little master, this is why In the pleasant fields I lie.
A PRESENT FOR ALFRED.
Dear Alfred, I've a gift for you, A present from your Aunt; A prayer-book. Can you read it through? Said Alfred--No, I can't.
But if I teach you, will you try To learn, and sit quite still? And with your utmost power apply? Said Alfred--Yes, I will.
THE FAIRING.
Oh dear! what a beautiful Doll My sister has bought at the fair! She says I must call it "Miss Poll," And make it a bonnet to wear.
O pretty new Doll! it looks fine; Its cheeks are all cover'd with red; But, pray, will it always be mine? And, pray, may I take it to bed?
How kind was my sister to buy This Dolly, with hair that will curl! Perhaps, if you want to know why, She'll tell you I've been a good girl.
THE GOOD BOY.
When Philip's good mama was ill, The servant begg'd he would be still. Because the doctor and the nurse Had said that noise would make her worse.
At night, when Philip went to bed, He kiss'd mama, and whisp'ring said, "My dear mama, I never will Make any noise when you are ill."
MISS SOPHIA.
Miss Sophy, one fine sunny day, Left her work and ran away: When soon she reach'd the garden gate, Which finding lock'd, she would not wait, But tried to climb and scramble o'er A gate as high as any door.
Now little girls should never climb, And Sophy won't another time, For when upon the highest rail Her frock was caught upon a nail, She lost her hold, and, sad to tell, Was hurt and bruis'd--for down she fell.
PRETTY PUSS.
Come, pretty Cat! Come here to me! I want to pat You on my knee.
Go, naughty Tray! By barking thus, You'll drive away, My pretty Puss.
POLITENESS.
Good little boys should never say, _I will_, and, _Give me these_; O no! that never is the way, But, _Mother, if you please_.
And, _if you please_, to sister Ann, Good boys to say are ready; And, _Yes, Sir_, to a gentleman, And, _Yes, Ma'am_, to a lady.
MAMA, HOW HAPPY I CAN BE.
Mama, how happy I can be, Whilst sitting face to face with thee, I hear you gently speak, and see Your needle quickly fly!
'Tis then you teach my little heart That virtue is the fairest part, And thinking on how good thou art, To be as good I try.
Then speaking of God's awful power, His care and kindness every hour, I learn to love and to adore This Father in the sky.
And, taught no bad or idle ways, I try to gain your love and praise, And wonder whilst on you I gaze, Why any fear to die.
Since God's indulgent care is shown, In calling each good child his own, We'll happy be before his throne, When called up on high.
And there, mama, may I and you Love God's commands as here we do, And love each other ever too, Together in the sky.
A FINE THING.
Who am I, with noble face, Shining in a clear blue place? If to look at me you try, I shall blind your little eye.
When my noble face I show Over yonder mountain blue, All the clouds away do ride, And the dusky night beside.
Then the clear wet dews I dry, With the look of my bright eye; And the little birds awake, Many a merry tune to make.
Cowslips then, and harebells blue, And lily-cups their lips undo, For they shut themselves up tight, All the dark and foggy night.
Then the busy people go, Every one his work unto; Little girl, when your's is done, Guess if I am not the Sun.
SLEEPY TOM.
Get up, little boy, You are sleeping too long; Your brother is dressed, He is singing a song, And Tom must be wakened, O, fie!
Come, open the curtains, And let in the light; For children should only Be sleepy at night, When stars may be seen In the sky.
SANDY.
Wee Sandy in the corner, Sits crying on a stool; And deep the laddie rues Playing truant from the school.
So you'll learn from silly Sandy, He's gotten such a fright; To do nothing through the day, That may cause you tears at night.
Those who will not be advised, Are sure to rue ere long; And many pains it costs them To do the thing that's wrong.
THE CARE OF BIRDS.
Who gave the bird its feathers bright, Its pretty breast to warm; In winter's cold to keep it quite Preserved from every harm?
Who taught the bird to build its nest Of wool, and hay, and moss; Who taught it how to weave it best, And lay the twigs across?
'Twas God who taught it all the way, And gave it power and skill; And teaches children when they pray, To do His holy will.
WILLIE WINKIE.
Hey! Willie Winkie, Are you coming then? The cat's singing gay tunes To the sleeping hen.
The dog is lying on the floor, And does not even peep; But here's a wakeful laddie, That will not fall asleep.
Anything but sleep, you rogue, Glowing like the moon; Rattling in a stone jug, With an iron spoon.
Rumbling, tumbling all about Crowing like a cock; Screaming like I don't know what Waking sleeping folks.
Hey! Willie Winkie! Can't you keep him still, Wriggling off a body's knee Like a very eel.
That has with sleep a battle, Before he's done with play, A wee, wee, dumpy, toddling lad That runs the livelong day.
COME WHEN YOU ARE CALLED.
Where's Susan, and Kitty, and Jane? Where's Billy, and Sammy, and Jack? O, there they are down in the lane; Go, Betty, and bring them all back.
But Billy is rude and won't come, And Sammy is running too fast; Come, dear little children come home, And Billy is coming at last.
I'm glad he remembers what's right, For though he likes sliding on ice, He should not be long out of sight, And never want sending for twice.
DOG POMPEY.
Come hither little Dog to play, And do not go so far away, But stand and beg for food; And if your tail I chance to touch, You must not snarl so very much, Pray Pompey don't be rude.
The Dog can eat and drink and sleep, And help to bring the Cows and Sheep, O, hear how Pompey barks: Hark! hark! he says, "Bow Wow! bow wow!" Then run away good Pompey now, You'll tire us with your noise.
MISS PEGGY.
As Peggy was crying aloud for a cake, Which her mother had said she was going to make, A gentleman knock'd at the door! He enter'd the parlor and show'd much surprise, That it really was Peggy who made all the noise, For he never had heard her before.
Miss Peggy asham'd, and to hide her disgrace, Took hold of her frock, and quite cover'd her face, For she knew she was naughty just then And, instantly wiping the tears from her eyes, She promis'd her mother to make no more noise, And kiss'd her again and again.
THE BIRD.
Look, what a pretty Bird I've got! In yonder island field 'twas caught; Just see its breast and painted wings, And listen, John, how sweet it sings.
Do let me keep it, I'll engage To mind it safely in this cage; And not a moment will I ask To idle from my school or task.
I'll feed you well, my pretty Bird, With worms and crumbs of bread and seed, And no ill-natured cat is here To fill your little breast with fear.
Said kind Mama, O do not so, But haste, Maria, let it go And then among the feathered throng, 'Twill treat you with its pretty song.
THE SETTING SUN.
Papa, the Sun is setting now I see him in the west, And all this weary world below May now retire to rest:
Whilst in those countries far beyond, The day begins to break, A many a child, and many a bird, Doth now begin to wake.
And when the morning dawns again, The Sun comes to our east, Then evening will begin with them, And _they_ to bed will haste.
How very good of God it is, To make the Sun to go About this great round world of ours, To light each country so.
GOOD MAMA.
Love, come and sit upon my knee, And give me kisses, one, two, three, And tell me whether you love me, My baby.
For this I'm sure, that I love you, And many, many things I do, And all day long I sit and sew For baby.
And then at night I lay awake, Thinking of things that I can make, And trouble that I mean to take For baby.
And when you're good and do not cry Nor into wicked passion fly, You can't think how papa and I Love baby.
But, if my little girl should grow To be a naughty child, I know 'Twould grieve mama to serve her so, My baby.
And when you saw me pale and thin, By grieving for my baby's sin, I think, you'd wish that you had been A better baby.
Good Little Fred.
When little Fred was call'd to bed He always acted right; He kiss'd Mama, and then Papa, And wish'd them both good night.
He made no noise, like naughty boys But quietly up stairs Directly went, when he was sent, And always said his prayers.
THE DIZZY GIRL.
As Frances was playing, and turning around, Her head grew so giddy, she fell to the ground; 'Twas well that she was not much hurt: But, O what a pity! her frock was so soiled, That had you beheld the unfortunate child, You had seen her all covered with dirt.
Her mother was sorry, and said, Do not cry, And Mary shall wash you, and make you quite dry, If you'll promise to turn round no more. What, not in the parlor? the little girl said: No, not in the parlor; for lately I read, Of a girl who was hurt with the door.
She was playing and turning, until her poor head Fell against the hard door, and it very much bled, And I heard Dr. Camomile tell, That he put on a plaster, and covered it up, Then he gave her some tea, that was bitter to sup, Or perhaps it had never been well.
NEAT LITTLE CLARA.
Little Clara, come away, Little Clara, come and play; Leave your work, Maria's here, So come and play with me, my dear.
I will come, and very soon, For I always play at noon, But must put my work away, Ere with you I come and play.
First my bodkin I must place With my needle in their case; I like to put them by with care And then I always find them there.
There's my cotton, there's my thread, Thimble in its little bed; All is safe--my box I lock, Now I come--'tis twelve o'clock.
HINTY, MINTY.
Hinty, Minty, Irish maid, Picks roses sweet in briar's shade; On higher briar, by the rock, Are ten Sparrows in a flock, That sit and sing By cooling spring, When shoot one! shoot two! Comes sportsman Tom in jacket blue.
O, U, T--out!--away they go on nimble wings, Over the hills, And through the dells, Where Minty dwells, With many pretty things. Yet strike one! strike two! From out the flock, eight only flew, And two are now but game.
O, cruel Tom, let birdies be, And blithely sing from bush and tree.
Come here, my bonnie, Come here to me; Rosy cheeked apples You shall have three-- All full of honey, They dropped from the tree, Like your bonny self-- All the sweeter that they're wee.
CARELESS MARIA.
Maria was a careless child, And grieved her friends by this: Where'er she went, Her clothes were rent, Her hat and bonnet spoiled, A careless little miss.
Her gloves and mits were often lost, Her tippet sadly soiled; You might have seen Where she had been, For toys all round were tossed, O what a careless child.
One day her uncle bought a toy, That round and round would twirl, But when he found The littered ground, He said, I don't tee-totums buy For such a careless girl.
THE PARROT.
Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries, Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies And calls aloud for sack. She next instructs him in the kiss, 'Tis now a little one, like Miss,-- And now a hearty smack!
WHY EMMA IS LOVED.
Little Mary call'd Emma, who was just skipping by, And she said, little cousin, can you tell me why You are loved so much better by people than I?
My face is as clean, and my hair shines like gold, And my walk and my dress are as nice to behold, Yet nobody likes me for that, I am told.
Ah, Mary, she said, this is all very true, But if half as much mischief were I to do, Indeed people would love me no better than you.
Your face _is_ as clean, and your hair is as bright, Your frock is as tidy, your hands are as white, But there's one thing, dear Mary--you seldom do right.
If Mama bids less noise to be made when we play, Or desires you be still whilst your lessons you say, You never do try these commands to obey.
And when people are talking, you never care how You interrupt what they're saying, which is ill-bred, you know, And papa has so oft bid us not to do so.
You take grand-mama's pies, you climb on her chair, You lay hold of the gowns as you go up the stair, And you gather the flowers that on the beds are.
Now I am no taller, nor bigger, you see, Yet nobody here is angry with me, Because I have learnt so obedient to be.
I mind what mama says, whatever it is, And when people are busy take care not to tease, But endeavor, as much as I'm able, to please.
Then said Mary to Emma, O now do I see Why you are more loved, and more happy than me; And we're like mama's tale of the Wasp and the Bee.
I remember it said, little children beware, Because like the Wasp if you ill behaved are, You will never be loved, if you're ever so fair.
THE GOOD SCHOLAR.
Joseph West had been told, That if, when he grew old, He had not learnt rightly to spell, Though his writings were good, 'Twould be not understood: And Joe said, I will learn my task well.
And he made it a rule To be silent at school, And what do you think came to pass? Why he learnt it so fast, That from being the last, He soon was the first in the class.
NAUGHTY SAM.
Tom and Charles once took a walk, To see a pretty lamb; And, as they went, began to talk Of little naughty Sam.
Who beat his youngest brother, Bill, And threw him in the dirt; And when his poor mama was ill, He teas'd her for a squirt.
And I, said Tom, won't play with Sam Although he has a top: But here the pretty little lamb To talking put a stop.
Two legs sat upon three legs, With one leg in his lap; In comes four legs, And runs away with one leg; Up jumps two legs, Catches up three legs, Throws it after four legs, And makes him bring one leg back.
As I was going up primrose Hill Primrose Hill was dirty; There I met a pretty Miss, And she dropped me a curtsy.
Little Miss, pretty Miss, Blessings light upon you, If I had half a crown a day, I'd spend it all upon you.
There was an old man of Tobago, Who lived on rice, gruel, and sago, Till, much to his bliss, His physician said this, To a leg, sir, of mutton you may go.
Pease pudding hot, Pease pudding cold, Pease pudding in the pot, Nine days old.
Some like it hot, Some like it cold, Some like it in the pot, Nine days old.
When I was a ba-che-lor, I liv-ed by my-self. And all the meat I got I put upon a shelf; The rats and the mice did lead me such a life, That I went to Lon-don, to get my-self a wife.
The streets were so broad, and the lanes were so nar-row, I could not get my wife home with-out a wheel-bar-row. The wheel-bar-row broke, my wife got a fall, Down tum-bled wheel-bar-row, lit-tle wife, and all.