Pinafore Palace

Brow bender,

Eye peeper,

Nose smeller,

Mouth eater,

Chin chopper.

Knock at the door-peep in,

Lift up the latch-walk in.

Eye winker,

Tom Tinker,

Nose smeller,

Mouth eater,

Chin chopper,

Chin chopper.

Here sits the Lord Mayor,

Here sit his two men,

Here sits the cock,

And here sits the hen;

Here sit the chickens,

And here they go in,

Chippety, chippety, chippety chin.

Ring the bell!

Knock at the door!

Lift up the latch!

Walk in!

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man!

So I do, master, as fast as I can:

Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T,

Put it in the oven for Tommy and me.

Pease porridge hot,

Pease porridge cold,

Pease porridge in the pot,

Nine days old.

Some like it hot,

Some like it cold,

Some like it in the pot,

Nine days old.

Pat it, kiss it,

Stroke it, bless it;

Three days' sunshine, three days' rain,

Little hand all well again.

Warm, hands, warm, daddy's gone to plough;

If you want to warm hands, warm hands now.

Clap, clap handies,

Mammie's wee, wee ain;

Clap, clap handies,

Daddie's comin' hame;

Hame till his bonny wee bit laddie;

Clap, clap handies,

My wee, wee ain.

This little pig went to market;

This little pig stayed at home;

This little pig had roast beef;

This little pig had none;

This little pig said, "Wee, wee!

I can't find my way home."

Shoe the horse, and shoe the mare;

But let the little colt go bare.

Foot Soldiers

'Tis all the way to Toe-town,

Beyond the Knee-high hill,

That Baby has to travel down

To see the soldiers drill.

One, two, three, four, five, a-row-

A captain and his men-

And on the other side, you know,

Are six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

John B. Tabb.

How many days has my baby to play?

Saturday, Sunday, Monday,

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,

Saturday, Sunday, Monday.

Dance to your daddy,

My little babby;

Dance to your daddy,

My little lamb.

You shall have a fishy,

In a little dishy;

You shall have a fishy

When the boat comes in.

One, Two

One, two,

Buckle my shoe;

Three, four,

Knock at the door;

Five, six,

Pick up sticks;

Seven, eight,

Lay them straight;

Nine, ten,

A good fat hen;

Eleven, twelve,

Let them delve;

Thirteen, fourteen,

Maids a-courting;

Fifteen, sixteen,

Maids in the kitchen;

Seventeen, eighteen,

Maids a-waiting;

Nineteen, twenty,

My plate's empty.

Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring;

Merry was myself, and merry could I sing;

With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free,

And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!

Merry have we met, and merry have we been;

Merry let us part, and merry meet again;

With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free,

And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!

Bow-wow-wow!

Whose dog art thou?

Little Tom Tinker's dog,

Bow-wow-wow!

Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!

That the miller may grind his corn;

That the baker may take it,

And into rolls make it,

And send us some hot in the morn.

The Difference

Eight fingers,

Ten toes,

Two eyes,

And one nose.

Baby said

When she smelt the rose,

"Oh! what a pity

I've only one nose!"

Ten teeth

In even rows,

Three dimples,

And one nose.

Baby said

When she smelt the snuff,

"Deary me!

One nose is enough."

Laura E. Richards.

The Five Little Fairies

Finger-Play

Said this little fairy,

"I'm as thirsty as can be!"

Said this little fairy,

"I'm hungry, too! dear me!"

Said this little fairy,

"Who'll tell us where to go?"

Said this little fairy,

"I'm sure that I don't know!"

Said this little fairy,

"Let's brew some Dew-drop Tea!"

So they sipped it and ate honey

Beneath the maple tree.

Maud Burnham.

The Pigeons

Ten snowy white pigeons are standing in line,

On the roof of the barn in the warm sunshine.

Ten snowy white pigeons fly down to the ground,

To eat of the grain that is thrown all around.

Ten snowy white pigeons soon flutter aloof,

And sit in a line on the ridge of the roof.

Ten pigeons are saying politely, "Thank you!"

If you listen, you hear their gentle "Coo-roo!"

Maud Burnham.

The Barnyard

When the Farmer's day is done,

In the barnyard, ev'ry one,

Beast and bird politely say,

"Thank you for my food to-day."

The cow says, "Moo!"

The pigeon, "Coo!"

The sheep says, "Baa!"

The lamb says, "Maa!"

The hen, "Cluck! Cluck!"

"Quack!" says the duck;

The dog, "Bow Wow!"

The cat, "Meow!"

The horse says, "Neigh!

I love sweet hay!"

The pig near by,

Grunts in his sty.

When the barn is locked up tight,

Then the Farmer says, "Good-night!"

Thanks his animals, ev'ry one,

For the work that has been done.

Maud Burnham.

* * *

Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree-top,

When the wind blows the cradle will rock;

When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,

Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green;

Father's a nobleman, mother's a Queen;

Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring;

And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the King.

Bye, baby bunting,

Daddy's gone a-hunting,

To get a little rabbit-skin,

To wrap his baby bunting in.

Hush thee, my babby,

Lie still with thy daddy,

Thy mammy has gone to the mill,

To grind thee some wheat

To make thee some meat,

And so, my dear babby, lie still.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Thy father watches the sheep;

Thy mother is shaking the dream-land tree,

And down falls a little dream on thee:

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

The large stars are the sheep,

The wee stars are the lambs, I guess,

The fair moon is the shepherdess:

Sleep, baby, sleep!

From the German.

When little Birdie bye-bye goes,

Quiet as mice in churches,

He puts his head where no-one knows,

On one leg he perches.

When little Babie bye-bye goes,

On Mother's arm reposing,

Soon he lies beneath the clothes,

Safe in the cradle dozing.

When pretty Pussy goes to sleep,

Tail and nose together,

Then little mice around her creep,

Lightly as a feather.

When little Babie goes to sleep,

And he is very near us,

Then on tip-toe softly creep,

That Babie may not hear us.

Lullaby! Lullaby! Lulla, Lulla, Lullaby!

Unknown.

* * *

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,

To see an old lady upon a white horse,

Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes.

She shall have music wherever she goes.

This is the way the ladies ride;

Tri, tre, tre, tree,

Tri, tre, tre, tree!

This is the way the ladies ride,

Tri, tre, tre, tre, tri-tre-tre-tree!

This is the way the gentlemen ride;

Gallop-a-trot,

Gallop-a-trot!

This is the way the gentlemen ride,

Gallop-a-gallop-a-trot!

This is the way the farmers ride;

Hobbledy-hoy,

Hobbledy-hoy!

This is the way the farmers ride,

Hobbledy, hobbledy-hoy!

Ride, baby, ride,

Pretty baby shall ride,

And have a little puppy-dog tied to her side,

And a little pussy-cat tied to the other,

And away she shall ride

To see her grandmother,

To see her grandmother,

To see her grandmother in London town.

See-saw sacradown,

Which is the way to London town?

One foot up, the other foot down,

That is the way to London town.

To market, to market,

To buy a plum bun;

Home again, home again,

Market is done.

Dance, little baby, dance up high,

Never mind, baby, mother is by;

Crow and caper, caper and crow,

There, little baby, there you go;

Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,

Backwards and forwards, round and round;

Dance, little baby, and mother will sing,

With the merry chorus, ding, ding, ding!

A farmer went trotting

Upon his gray 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 the next day;

Bumpety, bumpety, bump!

Hey, my kitten, my kitten,

And hey, my kitten, my deary!

Such a sweet pet as this

Was neither far nor neary.

Here we go up, up, up,

And here we go down, down, downy;

And here we go backwards and forwards,

And here we go round, round, roundy.

Hey diddle, dinkety, poppety, pet,

The merchants of London they wear scarlet;

Silk in the collar and gold in the hem,

So merrily march the merchantmen.

Rhymes About a Little Woman

This is the way the ladies ride-

Saddle-a-side, saddle-a-side!

This is the way the gentlemen ride-

Sitting astride, sitting astride!

This is the way the grandmothers ride-

Bundled and tied, bundled and tied!

This is the way the babykins ride-

Snuggled inside, snuggled inside!

This is the way when they are late,

They all fly over a five-barred gate.

William Canton.

Every evening Baby goes

Trot, trot, to town-

Across the river, through the fields,

Up hill and down.

Trot, trot, the Baby goes,

Up hill and down,

To buy a feather for her hat,

To buy a woolen gown.

Trot, trot, the Baby goes;

The birds fly down, alack!

"You cannot have our feathers, dear,"

They say; "so please trot back."

Trot, trot, the Baby goes;

The lambs come bleating near.

"You cannot have our wool," they say;

"But we are sorry, dear."

Trot, trot, the Baby goes,

Trot, trot, to town.

She buys a red rose for her hat,

She buys a cotton gown.

Mary F. Butts.

* * *