A Book of Nursery Rhymes/Part II
Ding, dong bell,
Pussy 's in the well!
Part II
ANIMALS AND THEIR DOINGS
MOTHER STORIES
Ding, dong bell,
Pussy's in the well!
Who put her in?
Little Tommy Lin.
Who pulled her out?
Little Johnny Stout.
What a naughty boy was that
To drown the poor, poor pussy-cat
Who never did him any harm
But killed the mice in his father's barn.
I like little pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don't hurt her she'll do me no
harm;
So I'll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But pussy and I very gently will play.
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"Bow, wow," |
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So, with sparrows and owls,
With rats and with dogs,
With ducks and with crows,
With cats and with hogs,
A fine song I have made,
To please you, my dear;
And if it's well sung,
'T will be charming to hear.
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A cat came fiddling |
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Pussy-cat Mew |
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And in her best petticoat burnt a great hole.
Poor pussy's weeping, she'll have no
more milk
Until her best petticoat's mended with silk,
Didley, diddledy, dumpty:
The cat ran up the plum-tree.
Half a crown
To fetch her down;
Diddledy, diddledy, dumpty.
Pussy-cat sits by the fire;
How can she be fair?
In walks the little dog;
Says, "Pussy! are you there?
How do you do, Mistress Pussy?
Mistress Pussy, how d'ye do?"
"I thank you kindly, little dog,
I fare as well as you!"
Hey! diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
While the dish ran after the spoon.
Dame Trot and her cat
Led a peaceable life,
When they were not troubled
With other folks' strife.
When Dame had her dinner
Near Pussy would wait,
And was sure to receive
A nice piece from her plate.
The two gray Kits
And the gray Kits' mother,
All went over
The bridge together.
The bridge broke down,
They all fell in,
May the rats go with you,
Says Tom Bolin.
Great A, little a,
Bouncing B!
The cat 's in the cupboard,
And she can't see.
A, B, C, tumble-down D,
The cat's in the cupboard and can't see me.
Feedum, fiddledum fee,
The cat's got into the tree.
Pussy, come down,
Or I'll crack your crown,
And toss you into the sea.
Two little dogs
Sat by the fire,
Over a fender of coal-dust;
Said one little dog
To the other little dog,
If you don't talk, why, I must.
Leg over leg,
As the dog went to Dover,
When he came to a stile,
Jump! he went over.
Bow-wow-wow!
Whose dog art thou?
Little Tom Tinker's dog,
Bow-wow-wow!
There were two birds sat on a stone,
Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;
One flew away, and then there was one,
Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;
The other flew after,
And then there was none,
Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;
And so the poor stone
Was left all alone,
Fa, la, la, la, lal, de.
Cock Robin got up early,
At the break of day,
And went to Jenny's window
To sing a roundelay.
He sang Cock Robin's love
To the pretty Jenny Wren,
And when he got unto the end,
Then he began again.
Pit, pat, well-a-day!
Little Robin flew away;
Where can little Robin be?
Gone into the cherry-tree.
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 snapt off her nose.
Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;
Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran;
Says little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if
you can."
Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a
wall,
Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost
got a fall;
Little Robin chirped and sang, and what
did pussy say?
Pussy-cat said "Mew," and Robin flew away.
Come hither, sweet Robin,
And not be afraid,
I would not hurt even a feather;
Come hither, sweet Robin,
And pick up some bread,
To feed you this very cold weather
I don't mean to frighten you,
Poor little thing,
And pussy-cat is not behind me;
So hop about pretty,
And drop down your wing,
And pick up some crumbs,
And don't mind me.
The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then,
Poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing,
Poor thing!
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen;
Sometimes nine, and sometimes ten,
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen!
The cock doth crow
To let you know,
If you be wise,
'T is time to rise.
Little Tom Twig bought a fine bow and arrow,
And what did he shoot? why, a poor little sparrow.
Oh, fie, little Tom! with your fine bow and arrow,
How cruel to shoot at a poor little sparrow!
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.
Mary had a pretty bird,
Feathers bright and yellow,
Slender legs; upon my word,
He was a pretty fellow.
The sweetest notes he always sung,
Which much delighted Mary;
And near the cage she'd often sit,
To hear her own Canary.
Cushy cow bonny, let down thy milk,
And I will give thee a gown of silk;
A gown of silk and a silver tee,
If thou wilt let down thy milk to me.
I had a little cow; Hey-diddle, ho-diddle!
I had a little cow, and it had a little calf;
Hey-diddle, ho-diddle; and there's my song half.
I had a little cow;
Hey-diddle, ho-diddle!
I had a little cow, and I drove it to the stall;
Hey-diddle, ho-diddle; and there's my song all!
John Hobbs, John Hobbs
he had a grey mare . . Ha, ha, ha!
Her back stood up, and her
bones were bare . . . Ha, ha, ha!
John Cook was riding up
Shuter's bank . . . . Ha, ha, ha!
And there his nag did kick
and prank . . . . . Ha, ha, ha!
John Cook was riding up
Shuter's hill . . . . Ha, ha, ha!
His mare fell down, and she
made her will . . . . Ha, ha, ha!
The bridle and saddle were
laid on the shelf . . . Ha, ha, ha!
If you want any more you
may sing it yourself . . Ha, ha, ha!
Up hill spare me,
Down hill 'ware me,
On level ground spare me not,
And in the stable forget me not.
Shoe the horse, and shoe the mare;
But let the little colt go bare.
SEE, see! what shall I see?
A horse's head where his tail should be.
I HAD a little pony,
His name was Dapple-gray,
I lent him to a lady,
To ride a mile away;
She whipped him, she slashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now
For all the lady's hire.
I LOST my mare in Lincoln Lane,
And couldn't tell where to find her,
Till she came home both lame and blind,
With never a tail behind her.
I HAD a little hobby-horse,
And it was dapple grey;
Its head was made of pea-straw,
Its tail was made of hay
I sold it to an old woman
For a copper groat;
And I'll not sing my song again
Without another coat.
SHOE the colt,
Shoe the colt;
Shoe the wild mare;
Here a nail,
There a nail,
Yet she goes bare.
UPON my word and honor,
As I went to Bonner,
I met a pig
Without a wig,
Upon my word and honor.
Betty Pringle had a little pig,
Not very little and not very big,
When he was alive he lived in clover,
But now he's dead, and that's all over.
So Billy Pringle he lay down and cried,
And Betty Pringle she lay down and died;
So there was an end of one, two, and three:
Billy Pringle he,
Betty Pringle she,
And the piggy wiggy.
Dickery, dickery, dare,
The pig flew up in the air;
The man in brown soon brought him down,
Dickery, dickery, dare.
A long-tailed pig, or a short-tailed pig,
Or a pig without e'er a tail,
A sow-pig, or a boar-pig,
Or a pig with a curly tail.
Little Bo-peep
Has 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 dreamt she heard them bleating;
But when she awoke she found it a joke,
For still they all were fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
For they'd left all their tails behind 'em!
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,
Hickory, dickory, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock;
The clock struck one,
And down he run,
Hickory, dickory, dock.
BAH, bah, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, marry, have I,
Three bags full:
One for my master,
And one for my dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives in the lane.
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Young lambs to sell!
Young lambs to sell!
If I'd as much money as I could tell,
I never would cry—Young lambs to sell
Some little mice sat in a barn to spin;
Pussy came by and popped his head in;
"Shall I come in, and cut your threads off?"
"Oh, no! kind sir, you will snap our heads off!"
SNAIL, snail, put out your horn,
Then I'll give you a barleycorn.
LADYBIRD, ladybird, fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children all gone,
All but one, and her name is Ann,
And she crept under the pudding-pan.
BURNIE bee, burnie bee,
Tell me when your wedding be?
If it be to-morrow day,
Take your wings and fly away.
FIDDLE-de-dee,
Fiddle-de-dee,
The fly shall marry the bumble-bee.
They went to the church and married was
she, —
The fly has married the bumble-bee.
FOUR-AND-TWENTY tailors
Went to kill a snail,
The best man among them
Durst not touch her tail;
She put out her horns
Like a little Kyloe cow,
Run, tailors, run! or
She'll kill you all e'en now.
THREE blind mice, see how they run!
They all ran after the farmer's wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving-knife;
Did you ever see such a thing in your life?
As three blind mice!
1, 2, 3, 4, 5!
I caught a hare alive;
6, 7, 8, 9, 10!
I let her go again.
Miss Jane had a bag, and a mouse was
in it,
She opened the bag, he was out in a
minute;
The cat saw him jump and run under the
table,
And the dog said, "Catch him, puss, as soon
as you're able."
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,
Where have you been?
I've been to London
To look at the Queen.
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,
What did you there?
I frightened a little mouse
Under the chair.
Sing, sing, what shall I sing?
Cat's run away with the pudding-string!
Do, do, what shall I do?
The cat has bitten it quite in two.
Three little kittens 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 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,
Oh, 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 soil'd our mittens."
"Soiled your mitten!
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 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!
Oh, 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!'
THERE was an owl lived in an oak,
Wisky, wasky, weedle;
And every word he ever spoke
Was "fiddle, faddle, feedle."
A gunner chanced to come that way,
Wisky, wasky, weedle;
Says he, "I'll shoot you, silly bird."
Fiddle, faddle, feedle.