I was sitting in the twilight,
With my Charlie on my knee,—
Little two-year-old, forever
Teasing, “Talk a ’tory p’ease to me.”
“Now,” I said, “talk _me_ a ’tory.”
“Well,” all smiles,—“now, I will ’mence.
Mamma, I did see a kitty,—
Great—big—kitty,—on the fence.”
Mamma smiles. Five little fingers
Cover up her laughing lips.
“Is ’oo laughing?” “Yes,” I tell him,
But I kiss the finger-tips;
And I beg him tell another.
“Well,” reflectively, “I’ll ’mence.
Mamma, I did see a doggie,—
Great—big—doggie,—on the fence.”
“Rather similar,—your stories,—
Aren’t they, dear?” A sober look
Swept across the pretty forehead;
Then he sudden courage took.
“But I know a nice, new ’tory,—
’Plendid mamma! Hear me ’mence.
Mamma, I did see a elfunt,—
Great—big—elfunt,—on a fence.”
—_Kate Upson Clark._
_Old King Cole._
[Illustration]
Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
[Illustration]
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
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!
[Illustration]
_Rub-a-Dub-Dub._
Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick-maker;
Turn ’em out, knaves all three!
_There Was a Little Man._
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 saw a little duck,
And shot it through the head, head, head.
He carried it home to his old wife Joan,
And bade her a fire to make, make, make,
To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook,
And he’d go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.
_Fiddle-de-dee._
Fiddle-de-dee, fiddle-de-dee,
The fly shall marry the humble-bee,
They went to the church, and married was she,
The fly has married the humble-bee.