[Illustration]
Once there was a little boy,
With curly hair and pleasant eye—
A boy who always told the truth,
And never, never told a lie.
And when he trotted off to school,
The children all about would cry,
“There goes the curly-headed boy—
The boy that never tells a lie.”
And everybody loved him so,
Because he always told the truth,
That every day, as he grew up,
’Twas said, “There goes the honest youth.”
—_Anonymous._
_Saw, Sacradown._
See, saw, sacradown,
Which is the way to London town?
One foot up, the other foot down,
And that is the way to London town.
_Little Boy Blue._
Little 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 tends the sheep?
He’s under the haycock, fast asleep.
Go wake him, go wake him. Oh! no, not I;
For if I wake him, he’ll certainly cry.
_Once I Saw a Little Bird._
Once I saw a little bird
Come hop, hop, hop;
So I cried, “Little bird,
Will you stop, stop, stop?”
And was going to the window
To say, “How do you do?”
But he shook his little tail,
And far away he flew.
[Illustration]
See, see, what shall I see?
A horse’s head where his tail should be?
_Jack and Jill._
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down, and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.
_Dame, Get Up, and Bake Your Pies._
Dame, get up and bake your pies,
Bake your pies, bake your pies,
Dame, get up and bake your pies,
On Christmas-day in the morning.
Dame, what makes your maidens lie,
Maidens lie, maidens lie;
Dame, what makes your maidens lie,
On Christmas-day in the morning?
Dame, what makes your ducks to die,
Ducks to die, ducks to die;
Dame, what makes your ducks to die,
On Christmas-day in the morning?
Their wings are cut, and they cannot fly,
Cannot fly, cannot fly;
Their wings are cut, and they cannot fly,
On Christmas-day in the morning.
[Illustration]
_Willy, Willy Wilkin._
Willy, Willy Wilkin
Kissed the maids a-milking,
Fa, la, la!
And with his merry daffing,
He set them all a-laughing,
Ha, ha, ha!
_Thirty Days Hath September._
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.
_Come, Dance a Jig._
Come, dance a jig
To my granny’s pig,
With a raudy, rowdy, dowdy;
Come, dance a jig
To my granny’s pig,
And pussy-cat shall crowdy.
_March Winds._
March winds and April showers
Bring forth many flowers.
[Illustration: IT TAKES TWO TO MAKE A QUARREL]