by Anonymous
The king of clubs He often drubs His loving queen and wife; The queen of clubs Returns him snubs, And all is noise and strife: The knave of clubs Gives winks and rubs, And swears he'll take her _part_; For when our kings Will do such things, They should be made to _smart_.
The diamond king I fain would sing, And likewise his fair queen, But that the knave, A haughty slave, Must needs step in between. "Good diamond king, With hempen string This haughty knave destroy, Then may your queen, With mind serene, Your royal love enjoy."
There was a little guinea-pig, Who, being little, was not big; He always walk'd upon his feet, And never fasted when he eat.
When from a place he ran away, He never at that place did stay; And while he ran, as I am told, He ne'er stood still for young or old.
He often squeak'd, was sometimes violent, And when he squeak'd he ne'er was silent: Though ne'er instructed by a cat, He knew a mouse was not a rat.
One day, as I am certified, He took a whim and fairly died; And, as I'm told by men of sense, He never has been living since.
The king of France, with twenty thousand men, March'd up the hill, and then--march'd back again.
When good King Arthur ruled this land, He was a goodly king; He stole three pecks of barley-meal, To make a bag-pudding.
A bag-pudding the king did make, And stuff'd it well with plums: And in it put great lumps of fat, As big as my two thumbs.
The king and queen did eat thereof, And noblemen beside; And what they could not eat at night, The queen next morning fried.
My dears, do you 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, so I've heard people say.
And when it was night, How sad was their plight! The sun it went down, And the moon gave no light! They sobb'd and they sigh'd, 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, They sung them this song, "Poor babes in the wood! poor babes in the wood! Ah! don't you remember the babes in the wood?"
When I was a bachelor, I lived by myself, And all the bread and cheese I got I put upon the shelf. But the rats and the mice They made such a strife, I was forced to go to London To get myself a wife: The roads were so bad, And the lanes were so narrow, I was forced to bring my wife home In a wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow broke, And my wife had a fall, Down came the wheelbarrow, My wife, and all.
Gay go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London town.
Oranges and lemons, Say the bells of St. Clement's.
Bull's eyes and targets, Say the bells of St. Marg'ret's.
Brickbats and tiles, Say the bells of St. Giles'.
Halfpence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's.
Pancakes and fritters, Say the bells of St. Peter's.
Two sticks and an apple, Say the bells of Whitechapel.
Pokers and tongs, Say the bells of St. John's.
Kettles and pans, Say the bells of St. Ann's.
Old Father Baldpate, Say the slow bells of Aldgate.
You owe me ten shillings, Say the bells of St. Helen's.
When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey.
When I grow rich, Say the bells of Shoreditch.
Pray when will that be? Say the bells of Stepney.
I do not know, Says the great bell of Bow.
Here comes a candle to light you to bed, And here comes a chopper to chop off your head.
We're all dry with drinking on't, We're all dry with drinking on't; The piper kiss'd the fiddler's wife, And I can't sleep for thinking on't.
I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep, She wades in the water, deep, deep, deep, She climbs up the mountains, high, high, high; My poor little sister--she has but one eye!
(A STAR.)
Old King Cole Was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe, And he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three. Every fiddler, he had a fiddle, And a very fine fiddle had he; Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers. Oh, there's none so rare, As can compare With King Cole and his fiddlers three!
Old Mother Goose, when She wanted to wander, Would ride through the air On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house, 'Twas built in a wood, Where an owl at the door For sentinel stood.
This is her son Jack, A plain-looking lad, He is not very good, Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market, A live goose he bought; "Here, mother," says he, "It will not go for nought."
Jack's goose and her gander Grew very fond, They'd both eat together, Or swim in one pond.
Jack found one morning, As I have been told, His goose had laid him An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother, The news for to tell; She call'd him a good boy, And said it was well.
Jack sold his gold egg To a rogue of a Jew, Who cheated him out of The half of his due.
Then Jack went a-courting A lady so gay, As fair as the lily And sweet as the May.
The Jew and the Squire Came close at his back, And began to belabour The sides of poor Jack.
They threw the gold egg In the midst of the sea; But Jack he jump'd in, And got it back presently.
The Jew got the goose, Which he vow'd he would kill, Resolving at once His pockets to fill.
Jack's mother came in, And caught the goose soon, And, mounting its back, Flew up to the moon.
HARRY'S LADDER TO LEARNING.
PART V.
HARRY'S SIMPLE STORIES.
_From Mrs. Barbauld's "Lessons for Children."_
SIMPLE STORIES.
Good morning, little boy; how do you do? Bring your little stool and sitdown by me, for I have a great deal to tell you.
I hope you have been a good boy, and read all the pretty words I wrotefor you before. You have, you say; you have read them till you aretired, and you want some more new lessons. Come, then, sit down. Now youand I will tell stories.
JANUARY.
It is very cold. It snows. It freezes. There are no leaves upon thetrees. The oil is frozen, and the milk is frozen, and the river isfrozen, and everything in the fields is frozen.
All the boys are sliding: you must learn to slide. There is a manskating. How fast he goes! You shall have a pair of skates. Take care!there is a hole in the ice. Come in. It is four o'clock. It is dark.Light the candles: and, Ralph! get some wood from the wood-house, andget some coals, and make a very good fire.
Now get the large picture-book, and let us look at the pretty pictures,and I will tell you stories about them.
FEBRUARY.
It is still very cold, but the days are longer, and there is the yellowcrocus coming up, and the mezereon tree is in blossom, and there aresome white snow-drops peeping up their little heads. Pretty whitesnow-drop, with a green stalk! May I gather it? Yes, you may; but youmust always ask leave before you gather a flower.
When spring comes again there will be green leaves and flowers, daisiesand pinks, and violets and roses; and there will be young lambs, andwarm weather. Come again, spring!
What a noise the rooks make! Caw! caw! caw! and how busy they are! Theyare going to build their nests. There is a man ploughing the field. In afew days the farmer will sow it with barley. Wheat is sown in theautumn. In some places oxen draw the plough instead of horses.
MARCH.
Now the wind blows. It will blow such a little fellow as you away,almost. There is a tree blown down. Which way does the wind blow? Takeout your
handkerchief. Throw it up. The wind blows it this way. The windcomes from the north. The wind is north. It is a cold wind. The windwas west yesterday: then it was warmer.
Here is a lady-bird upon a leaf. It is red, and has black spots. Ah! ithas wings: it has flown away. There is a black beetle. Catch it. Howfast it runs! Where is it gone? Into the ground. It makes a little holeand runs into the ground.
There are some young lambs. Poor things! how they creep under the hedge.What is this flower? A primrose. Where is Harry? He is sitting under atree.
APRIL.
Now the birds sing, and the trees are in blossom, and flowers are comingout, and butterflies, and the sun shines. Now it rains. It rains and thesun shines. There is a rainbow. Oh, what fine colours! Pretty brightrainbow! No, you cannot catch it; it is in the sky. It is going away.It fades. It is quite gone. I hear the cuckoo. He says, Cuckoo! cuckoo!He is come to tell us it is spring. Do you know the nursery rhyme aboutthe cuckoo?
The cuckoo's a bonny bird, He sings as he flies; He brings us good tidings, And tells us no lies. He sucks little birds' eggs To make his voice clear, And always sings "Cuckoo" When spring-time is near.
MAY.
Oh, pleasant May! Let us walk out in the fields. The hawthorn is inblossom. Let us go and get some out of the hedges. And here are daisies,and cowslips, and crow-flowers. We will make a nosegay. Smell, it isvery sweet! What has Harry got? He has got a nest of young birds. He hasbeen climbing a high tree for them. Poor little birds! they have nofeathers. Keep them warm. You must feed them with a quill. You must givethem bread and milk. They are young goldfinches. They will be verypretty when they have got their red head and yellow wings.
We will drink tea out of doors. Bring the tea-things. It is verypleasant. But here is no table. What must we do? Oh, here is a largeround stump of a tree! it will do very well for a table. But we have nochairs. Here is a seat of turf, and a bank almost covered with violets:we shall sit here, and Harry may lie on the soft grass carpet.
JUNE.
What noise is that? It is the mower in the field whetting his scythe. Heis going to cut down the grass. And will he cut down all the flowerstoo? Yes, everything. Now we must make hay. Where is your fork and rake?Spread the hay. Now make it up into cocks. Now tumble on the haycock.There, cover Harry up with hay. How sweet the hay smells! Oh, it is veryhot. No matter; you should make hay while the sun shines. You must workwell. See! all the lads and lasses are at work. They must have somebeer, and bread and cheese. Now put the hay in the cart. Will you ridein the cart? Huzza!
It is a pleasant evening. Come here, Harry: look at the sun. The sun isin the west. Yes, little boys say he is going to bed. How pretty the sunlooks! We can look at him now; he is not so bright as he was atdinner-time, when he was up high in the sky. And how beautiful theclouds are! There are crimson clouds, and purple and gold-colouredclouds. Now we can see only half of the sun. Now he is gone.
JULY.
It is very hot, indeed, now, and the grass and flowers are all burnt,for it has not rained a great while. You must water your garden, elsethe plants will die. Where is the watering-pot? Let us go under thetrees. It is shady there: it is not so hot. Come into the arbour. Thereis a bee upon the honey-suckle. He is getting honey. He will carry it tothe hive.
Will you go and bathe in the water? Here is the river. It is not deep.Pull off your clothes. Jump in. Do not be afraid. Pop your head in. Nowtry to swim. Do you see that little frog? You should swim just as thelittle frog swims.
Now you have been in the water long enough. Come out, and let me dry youwith this towel.
AUGUST.
Let us go into the corn-fields to see if the corn is almost ripe. Yes,it is quite brown; it is ripe. Farmer Diggory! you must bring a sharpsickle and cut down the corn; it is ripe. Now it must be tied up insheaves. Now put a great many sheaves together, and make a shock.
There is a poor old woman picking up some ears of corn; and a poorlittle girl with her. They are gleaning. Give them your handful, Harry.Take it, poor woman, it will help to make you a loaf.
Look, there are black clouds. How fast they move along! Now they havehid the sun. There is a little bit of blue sky still. Now it is allcovered with black clouds. It is very dark, like night. It will rainsoon. Now it begins. What large drops! The ducks are very glad, but thelittle birds are not glad; they go and shelter themselves under thetrees. Now the rain is over. It was only a shower. Now the flowers smellsweet, and the sun shines, and the little birds sing again, and it isnot so hot as it was before it rained.
SEPTEMBER.
Hark! somebody is letting off a gun! They are shooting the poor birds.Here is a bird dropped down just at your feet. It is all bloody. Poorthing! how it flutters! Its wing is broken. It cannot fly any further.It is going to die. What bird is it? It is a partridge. Are you notsorry, Harry? It was alive a little while ago.
Bring the ladder, and set it against the tree. Now bring a basket. Wemust gather apples. No, you cannot go up the ladder; you must have alittle basket, and pick up apples under the tree. Shake the tree. Downthey come. How many have you got? We will have an apple-dumpling. Come,you must help to carry the apples into the apple-chamber. Apples makecyder. You shall have some baked pears and bread for supper, and somecyder. Are these apples? No, they are quinces; they will make marmalade.Do not be in such haste, little boy; you shall have some cyder directly.You must not drink much.
The leaves are falling off the trees now, and the flowers are all gone.No, here is an African marigold, and a China-aster, and a Michaelmasdaisy. And here are a few roses left.
Will you have any nuts? Fetch the nut-crackers. Peel this walnut. I willmake you a little boat of the walnut-shell, and you can swim it in apan. We must get the grapes, or else the birds will eat them all. Hereis a bunch of black grapes. Here is a bunch of white ones. Which willyou have? Grapes make wine.
What bird have you got there? It is dead, but it is very pretty. It hasa scarlet eye, and red, and green, and purple feathers. It is verylarge. It is a pheasant. He is very good to eat. We will pull off hisfeathers, and tell Betty Cook to roast him. Here is a hare too. Poorpuss! the hounds did catch her.
NOVEMBER.
How dark and dismal it is! No more flowers! no more pleasant sunshine!no more haymaking! The sky is very black: the rain pours down. Well,never mind it; we will sit by the fire, and read, and tell stories, andlook at pictures. I wonder what poor little boys do that have no fire togo to, and no shoes and stockings to keep them warm, and no victuals toeat? Here is a halfpenny, Harry, and when you see one of those poorboys you shall give it to him. He will say, "Thank you, you are verygood!" and then he will buy a roll.
Where are Billy, and Harry, and Betsy? Now tell me who can spell best.Good boy! Now you shall all have some cake. That is right, Jane, shutthe cupboard door.
DECEMBER.
Christmas is coming, and Betty is very busy. What is she doing? She isparing apples, and chopping meat, and beating spice. What for, I wonder?It is to make mince-pies. Do you love mince-pies? Oh, they are verygood!
Look! a pretty little robin is flying against the window. Open thewindow. Well, what do you want, little robin? Only a few crumbs ofbread. Give him some crumbs, and he will hop, hop about the parlour, andsit upon the top of the screen, and sing--oh, he will sing all daylong! Now pray do not let that wicked cat take him. No, puss! you mustgo and catch mice; you shall not eat poor robin.
Little boys come from school at Christmas. Pray wrap them up warm, forit is very cold. Well, spring will come again some time.
THE IDLE BOY.
There was a little boy; he was not a big boy, for if he had been a bigboy I suppose he would have been wiser; but this was a little boy, nothigher than the table, and his papa and mamma sent him to school. It wasa very pleasant morning; the sun shone, and the birds sung on the trees.Now this little boy did not much love his book, for he was but a sillylittle boy, as I told you; and he had a great mind to play instead ofgoing to sch
ool. And he saw a
bee flying about, first upon one flower, and then upon another; so hesaid, "Pretty bee! will you come and play with me?" But the bee said,"No, I must not be idle; I must go and gather honey." Then the littleboy met a dog, and he said, "Dog! will you play with me?" But the dogsaid, "No, I must not be idle; I am going to catch a hare for mymaster's dinner: I must make haste and catch it." Then the little boywent by a hay-rick, and he saw a bird pulling some hay out of thehay-rick, and he said, "Bird! will you come and play with me?" But thebird said, "No, I must not be idle; I must get some hay to build my nestwith, and some moss, and some wool." So the bird flew away. Then thelittle boy saw a horse, and he said, "Horse! will you play with me?" Butthe horse said, "No, I must not be idle; I must go and plough, or elsethere will be no corn to make bread of." Then the little boy thoughtwith himself, "What! is nobody idle? then little boys must not be idleneither." So he made haste, and went to school, and learned his lessonvery well, and the master said he was a good boy.