Page:A Book of Nursery Rhymes.djvu/119

"They say the balloon
Is gone up to the moon!"

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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.

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Evening red and morning gray
Sets the traveller on his way.

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When the wind is in the east,
'T is good for neither man nor beast;
When the wind is in the north,
The skilful fisher goes not forth;
When the wind is in the south,
It blows the bait in the fishes' mouth.
When the wind is in the west,
Then't is at the very best.