Children's Literature Part 15

133

TOM THE PIPER'S SON

Tom he was a piper's son, He learned to play when he was young, But all the tunes that he could play, Was "Over the hills and far away"; _Over the hills, and a great way off,_ _And the wind will blow my top-knot off._

Now Tom with his pipe made such a noise, That he pleased both the girls and boys, And they stopped to hear him play, "Over the hills and far away."

Tom with his pipe did play with such skill, That those who heard him could never keep still; Whenever they heard him they began to dance, Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.

As Dolly was milking her cow one day, Tom took out his pipe and began to play; So Doll and the cow danced "the Cheshire round,"

Till the pail was broke and the milk ran on the ground.

He met old dame Trot with a basket of eggs, He used his pipes and she used her legs; She danced about till the eggs were all broke, She began for to fret, but he laughed at the joke.

He saw a cross fellow was beating an a.s.s, Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and gla.s.s; He took out his pipe and played them a tune, And the jacka.s.s's load was lightened full soon.

134

WHEN I WAS A LITTLE BOY

When I was a little boy, I lived by myself, And all the bread and cheese I got, I put upon my shelf.

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

The streets were so broad, And the lanes were so narrow, I had to bring my wife home On a wheelbarrow.

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

135

THE BABES IN THE WOOD

My dear, you must know that 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.

_Poor babes in the wood, poor babes in the wood!_ _So hard was the fate of the babes in the wood._

And when it was night, so sad was their plight, The sun it went down, and the stars 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, the branches among, They sang to them softly, and this was their song: _Poor babes in the wood, poor babes in the wood!_ _So hard was the fate of the babes in the wood._

136

THE FOX AND HIS WIFE

The fox and his wife they had a great strife, They never ate mustard in all their whole life; They ate their meat without fork or knife, And loved to be picking a bone, e-oh!

The fox jumped up on a moonlight night; The stars they were shining, and all things bright; Oh, ho! said the fox, it's a very fine night For me to go through the town, e-oh!

The fox when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his ears and he listened awhile!

Oh, ho! said the fox, it's but a short mile From this unto yonder wee town, e-oh!

The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, Who should he see but the farmer's drake; I love you well for your master's sake, And long to be picking your bone, e-oh!

The gray goose she ran round the haystack, Oh, ho! said the fox, you are very fat; You'll grease my beard and ride on my back From this into yonder wee town, e-oh!

The farmer's wife she jumped out of bed, And out of the window she popped her head: Oh, husband! oh, husband! the geese are all dead, For the fox has been through the town, e-oh!

The farmer he loaded his pistol with lead, And shot the old rogue of a fox through the head; Ah, ha! said the farmer, I think you're quite dead; And no more you'll trouble the town, e-oh!

137

FOR WANT OF A NAIL

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 for the want of a horseshoe nail!

138

A MAN OF WORDS

A man of words and not of deeds Is like a garden full of weeds; And when the weeds begin to grow, It's like a garden full of snow; And when the snow begins to fall, It's like a bird upon the wall; And when the bird away does fly, It's like an eagle in the sky; And when the sky begins to roar, It's like a lion at the door; And when the door begins to crack, It's like a stick across your back; And when your back begins to smart, It's like a penknife in your heart; And when your heart begins to bleed, You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.

139

The first stanza of this jingle was long attributed to Longfellow as an impromptu made on one of his children. He took occasion to deny this, as well as the authorship of the almost equally famous "Mr. Finney had a turnip." The last two stanzas bear evidence of a more sophisticated origin than that of real nursery rhymes. Mr. Lucas, in his _Book of Verses for Children_, gives two different versions of these stanzas.

JEMIMA

There was a little girl, and she had a little curl, Right down the middle of her forehead, When she was good, she was very, very good, But when she was bad, she was horrid.