Chapter 3

All the birds of the air Fell to sighing and sobbing When they heard the bell toll For poor Cock Robin.

My dear, do you know, How a long time ago, Two poor little children, Whose names I don't know, Were stolen away on a fine summer's day, And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.

And when it was night, So sad was their plight! The sun it went down, And the moon gave no light! They sobbed and they sighed, and they bitterly cried, And the poor little things, they lay down and died.

And when they were dead, The robins so red, Brought strawberry-leaves And over them spread; And all the day long, They sung them this song: "Poor babes in the wood! Poor babes in the wood! Oh don't you remember the babes in the wood?"

The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, All on a summer's day; The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts, And took them clean away.

The King of Hearts called for the tarts, And beat the Knave full sore; The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts, And vowed he'd steal no more.

A little boy and a little girl Lived in an alley; Said the little boy to the little girl, "Shall I, oh! shall I?"

Said the little girl to the little boy, "What will you do?" Said the little boy to the little girl, "I will kiss you."

When good King Arthur ruled this land, He was a goodly king; He stole three pecks of barley-meal, To make a bag-pudding.

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.

"Little maid, pretty maid, whither goest thou?" "Down in the meadow to milk my cow." "Shall I go with thee?" "No, not now; When I send for thee, then come thou."

Jack Sprat could eat no fat, His wife could eat no lean; And so, betwixt them both, you see, They licked the platter clean.

Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, Had a wife and couldn't keep her; He put her in a pumpkin shell And then he kept her very well.

The little priest of Felton, The little priest of Felton, He kill'd a mouse within his house, And ne'er a one to help him.

Ding, dong, bell, Pussy's in the well! Who put her in?-- Little Tommy Lin.

Who pulled her out?-- Big John Strout. What a naughty boy was that To drown poor pussy-cat, Who never did him any harm, But kill'd the mice in his father's barn.

When I was a bachelor I lived by myself; And all the bread and cheese I got I put upon the shelf.

The rats and the mice They made such a strife, I was forced to go to London To buy me a wife.

The streets were so bad, And the lanes were so narrow, I was forced to bring my wife home In a wheelbarrow.

The wheelbarrow broke, And my wife had a fall, Down came wheelbarrow, Little wife and all.

I had a little husband, No bigger than my thumb; I put him in a pint-pot, And there I bade him drum.

I bought a little horse, That galloped up and down; I bridled him, and saddled him, And sent him out of town.

I gave him little garters, To garter up his hose, And a little handkerchief, To wipe his little nose.

Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four-and-twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie;

When the pie was opened The birds began to sing; Was not that a dainty dish To set before the King?

The King was in his counting-house, Counting out his money; The Queen was in the parlour, Eating bread and honey;

The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes; When up came a blackbird, And nipped off her nose.

Little Bo-peep, she lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them; Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.

Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamed she heard them bleating; When she awoke she found it a joke, For they still were all fleeting.

Then up she took her little crook, Determined for to find them; She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, For they'd left their tails behind them!

It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray, Unto a meadow hard by-- There she espied their tails side by side, All hung on a tree to dry.

She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye, And over the hillocks she raced; And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should, That each tail should be properly placed.

There was a little man, And he had a little gun, And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He went to the brook, And he saw a little duck, And he shot it right through the head, head, head.

He carried it home, To his good wife Joan, And bid her make a fire for to bake, bake, bake, To roast the little duck He had shot in the brook, And he'd go fetch her next the drake, drake, drake.

The drake had gone to sail, With his nice curly tail, The little man made it his mark, mark, mark. But he let off his gun, And he fired too soon, So the drake flew away with a quack, quack, quack.

Three little kittens, they lost their mittens, And they began to cry, _O mother dear,_ _We very much fear,_ _That we have lost our mittens._ Lost your mittens! You naughty kittens! Then you shall have no pie. _Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow._ No, you shall have no pie. _Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow._

The three little kittens, they found their mittens, And they began to cry, _O mother dear,_ _See here, see here!_ _See! we have found our mittens._ Put on your mittens, You silly kittens, And you may have some pie. _Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r,_ _O let us have the pie._ _Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r._

The three little kittens put on their mittens, And soon ate up the pie; _O mother dear,_ _We greatly fear,_ _That we have soiled our mittens._ Soiled your mittens! You naughty kittens! Then they began to sigh, _Mee-ow; mee-ow, mee-ow._ Then they began to sigh, _Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow._

The three little kittens they washed their mittens, And hung them out to dry; _O mother dear,_ _Do you not hear,_ _That we have washed our mittens?_ Washed your mittens! O, you're good kittens. But I smell a rat close by: Hush! Hush! _mee-ow, mee-ow._ _We smell a rat close by,_ _Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow._

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.

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, 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.

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 in the house that Jack built.

This is the key of the kingdom. In that kingdom there is a city. In that city there is a town. In that town there is a street. In that street there is a lane. In that lane there is a yard. In that yard there is a house. In that house there is a room. In that room there is a bed. In that bed there is a basket. In that basket there are some flowers. Flowers in the basket, basket in the bed, bed in the room, etc., etc.

_Tree on the Hill_

On yonder hill there stands a tree; Tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the tree there was a branch; Branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the branch there was a nest; Nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And in the nest there was an egg; Egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And in the egg there was a bird; Bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the bird there was a feather; Feather on the bird, bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

John Ball shot them all.

John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all.

John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot; But John Ball shot them all.

John Brammer made the rammer, And John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot, But John Ball shot them all.

John Block made the stock, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot; But John Ball shot them all.

John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot; But John Ball shot them all.

John Puzzle made the muzzle, And John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot; But John Ball shot them all.

John Clint made the flint, And John Puzzle made the muzzle, And John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot; But John Ball shot them all.

John Patch made the match, And John Clint made the flint, And John Puzzle made the muzzle, And John Crowder made the powder, And John Block made the stock, And John Brammer made the rammer, And John Wiming made the priming, And John Scott made the shot; But John Ball shot them all.

VIII

GUESS-ME-QUICKS

Riddle me, riddle me, riddle me ree, Perhaps you can tell me what this may be.

In marble walls as white as milk, Lined with a skin as soft as silk; Within a fountain crystal clear, A golden apple doth appear. No doors there are to this stronghold, Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.

Thirty white horses upon a red hill, Now they tramp, now they champ, now they stand still.

Black within and red without; Four corners round about.

Little Nan Etticoat, In a white petticoat, And a red nose; The longer she stands, The shorter she grows.

As round as an apple, as deep as a cup, And all the King's horses can't pull it up.

Long legs, crooked thighs, Little head, and no eyes.

Higher than a house, higher than a tree, Oh, whatever can that be?

Down in a dark dungeon I saw a brave knight, All saddled, all bridled, all fit for the fight. Gilt was his saddle, and bent was his bow; Thrice I've told you his name, and yet you don't know.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; Not all the King's horses, nor all the King's men, Could set Humpty Dumpty up again.

Elizabeth, Elspeth, Betsy, and Bess, They all went together to seek a bird's nest. They found a bird's nest with five eggs in, They all took one, and left four in.

As soft as silk, as white as milk, As bitter as gall, a thick wall, And a green coat covers me all.

As I went through the garden gap, Whom should I meet but Dick Red-cap! A stick in his hand, a stone in his throat: If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a groat.

I went to the wood and got it; I sat me down and looked at it; The more I looked at it the less I liked it; And I brought it home because I couldn't help it.

There was a girl in our town, Silk an' satin was her gown, Silk an' satin, gold an' velvet, Guess her name, three times I've tell'd it.

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 going to St. Ives?

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 back one leg.

As I was going o'er Westminster bridge, I met with a Westminster scholar; He pulled off his cap, _an' drew_ off his glove, And wished me a very good morrow. What is his name?

Flour of England, fruit of Spain, Met together in a shower of rain; Put in a bag tied round with a string, If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a ring.

I had a little nut tree, nothing would it bear But a silver nutmeg, and a golden pear. The King of Spain's daughter came to visit me, And all was because of my little nut tree. I skipped over water, I danced over sea, And all the birds of the air, they couldn't catch me.

There is one that has a head without an eye, And there's one that has an eye without a head: You may find the answer if you try; And when all is said, Half the answer hangs upon a thread!

Christina G. Rossetti.

_Do You Guess it is I?_

I am a little thing; I am not very high; I laugh, dance and sing, And sometimes I cry.

I have a little head All covered o'er with hair, And I hear what is said With my two ears there.

On my two feet I walk; I run too with ease; With my little tongue I talk Just as much as I please.

I have ten fingers too, And just so many toes; Two eyes to see through, And but one little nose.

I've a mouth full of teeth, Where my bread and milk go in; And close by, underneath, Is my little round chin.

What is this little thing, Not very, very high, That can laugh, dance and sing? Do you guess it is I?

Eliza Lee Follen.

IX

GRANDMOTHER'S WISDOM

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.

Cock crows in the morn, To tell us to rise, And he who lies late Will never be wise. For early to bed, And early to rise, Is the way to be healthy And wealthy and wise.

A swarm of bees in May Is worth a load of hay; A swarm of bees in June Is worth a silver spoon; A swarm of bees in July Is not worth a fly.

As the days grow longer The storms grow stronger.

When the days begin to lengthen Then the cold begins to strengthen.

A sunshiny shower, Won't last half an hour.

March winds and April showers Bring forth May flowers.

Evening red and morning gray Set the traveller on his way, But evening gray and morning red, Bring the rain upon his head.

When Jacky's a very good boy, He shall have cakes and a custard; But when he does nothing but cry, He shall have nothing but mustard.

Rainbow at night Is the sailor's delight; Rainbow at morning, Sailors, take warning.

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.

For every ill beneath the sun There is a cure or there is none; If there be one, try to find it; If there be none, never mind it.

They that wash on Monday Have all the week to dry; They that wash on Tuesday Are not so much awry; They that wash on Wednesday Are not so much to blame; They that wash on Thursday Wash for very shame; They that wash on Friday Wash because of need; And they that wash on Saturday, Oh, they are lazy indeed!

Go to bed first, A golden purse;

Go to bed second, A golden pheasant;

Go to bed third, A golden bird.

If you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger; Sneeze on a Tuesday, kiss a stranger; Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter; Sneeze on a Thursday, something better; Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow; Sneeze on a Saturday, joy to-morrow.

When the wind is in the east, 'Tis good for neither man nor beast; When the wind is in the north, The skilful fisher goes not forth;

When the wind is in the south, It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth; When the wind is in the west, Then 'tis at the very best.

Hearts, like doors, will ope with ease To very, very little keys, And don't forget that two of these, Are "I thank you" and "If you please."

If wishes were horses, Beggars would ride; If turnips were watches, I'd wear one by my side.

Cross-patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, Then call your neighbors in.

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; For want of the shoe, the horse was lost; For want of the horse, the rider was lost; For want of the rider, the battle was lost; For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost; And all from the want of a horseshoe nail.

Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living, But the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind, Went round about the house to find A chink to set her foot in; She tried the keyhole 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 town was bothered; From it she raised such flame and smoke That many in great terror woke, And many more were smothered.

And thus when once, my little dears, A whisper reaches itching ears-- The same will come, you'll find: Take my advice, restrain the tongue, Remember what old nurse has sung Of busy Lady Wind.

_PART II_

LITTLE PRINCE AND PRINCESS

I

THE PALACE PLAYTIME

_Follow Me!_

Children go To and fro, In a merry, pretty row, Footsteps light, Faces bright; 'Tis a happy sight, Swiftly turning round and round, Never look upon the ground; Follow me, Full of glee, Singing merrily.

Work is done, Play's begun; Now we have our laugh and fun; Happy days, Pretty plays, And no naughty ways. Holding fast each other's hand, We're a happy little band; Follow me, Full of glee, Singing merrily.

Birds are free; So are we; And we live as happily. Work we do, Study too, For we learn "Twice two"; Then we laugh, and dance, and sing, Gay as larks upon the wing; Follow me, Full of glee, Singing merrily.

Eliza Lee Follen.

_The Baby's Birthday_

Come, Charles, blow the trumpet, And George, beat the drum, For this is the baby's birthday! Little Annie shall sing, And Jemmy shall dance, And father the jews-harp will play. Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

Come toss up the ball, And spin the hum top; We'll have a grand frolic to-day; Let's make some soap bubbles, And blow them up high, And see what the baby will say. Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

We'll play the grand Mufti; Let's all make a ring; The tallest the Mufti shall play; You must look in his face, And see what he does, And mind what the Mufti shall say. Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

And now we'll play soldiers; All hold up your heads! Don't you know 'tis the baby's birthday? You must turn out your toes, And toss your feet high; There! this, boys and girls, is the way. Rad-er-er too tan-da-ro te Rad-er-er tad-or-er tan do re.

Eliza Lee Follen.

_Counting Out_

Intery, mintery, cutery-corn, Apple seed and apple thorn; Wire, brier, limber-lock, Five geese in a flock, Sit and sing by a spring, O-u-t, and in again.

_A Tea-Party_

You see, merry Phillis, that dear little maid, Has invited Belinda to tea; Her nice little garden is shaded by trees,-- What pleasanter place could there be?

There's a cake full of plums, there are strawberries too, And the table is set on the green; I'm fond of a carpet all daisies and grass,-- Could a prettier picture be seen?

A blackbird (yes, blackbirds delight in warm weather,) Is flitting from yonder high spray; He sees the two little ones talking together,-- No wonder the blackbird is gay.

Kate Greenaway.

_Around the World_

In go-cart so tiny My sister I drew; And I've promised to draw her The wide world through.

We have not yet started-- I own it with sorrow-- Because our trip's always Put off till to-morrow.

Kate Greenaway.

_My Ship and I_[1]

O it's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship, Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond; And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about; But when I'm a little older, I shall find the secret out How to send my vessel sailing on beyond.