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52
A BOOK OF NURSERY RHYMES
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.
