Chapter II: Introduction (1)

Since this series of books is intended for all young people from one to one hundred, it opens with about eighty of the old MOTHER GOOSE RHYMES. Nothing better was ever invented to tell to little folks who are young enough for lullabies. Their rhythm, their humor, and their pith will always cause us to prize them as the Babies' Classics.

Next come a score of the most famous NURSERY TALES, the kind that children cry for and love to hear fifty times over. And since, just as soon as little folks like stories they love to hear them in rhyme, here are forty CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS.

What would young life be without "Puss in Boots" and "Little Red Riding Hood" and "The Sleeping Beauty"? Our TREASURY would indeed be poor without them, so these FAVORITE STORIES come next, yoked with some OLD-FASHIONED POEMS in story-form, as "The Night before Christmas," "The Wonderful World," and "Little Orphant Annie." All who love pets and animals have always liked FABLES, so here are the noted parables of Æsop, and the lesser-known but even more jolly tales from East Indian sources.

The fairy-tale age is supposed to come from four to nine, but the editors are sure it lasts much longer than that. However this may be, the better half of our first volume is given up to FAIRY TALES AND LAUGHTER STORIES from all over the world.

It ends with TALES FOR TINY TOTS, the kind that mother reads beside the fire at bedtime, some of them old, like the "Little Red Hen" and "Peter Rabbit," and some of them newer, like "The Greedy Brownie" and "The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen."

WILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH.

CONTENTS

General Introduction to Young Folks' Treasury vii Introduction xi

NURSERY RHYMES

Hush-a-bye, Baby, on the Tree-top; Rock-a-bye, Baby
thy Cradle is Green; Bye, Baby Bunting; Hush
Thee, my Babby; Sleep, Baby, Sleep; This Little
Pig Went to Market; etc., etc. 1-31

NURSERY TALES

The Three Bears 32 Cinderella 35 The Three Brothers 41 The Wren and the Bear 42 Chicken-Licken 45 The Fox and the Cat 47 The Rats and their Son-in-Law 48 The Mouse and the Sausage 50 Johnny and the Golden Goose 51 Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse 56 Teeny Tiny 58 The Spider and the Flea 60 The Little Shepherd Boy 61 The Three Spinners 62 The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership 65 The Sweet Soup 68 The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean 68 Why the Bear Has a Stumpy Tail 70 The Three Little Pigs 71

CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS

The Three Children 75 The Owl and the Pussy-Cat--_Edward Lear_ 75 Kindness to Animals 77 How Doth the Little Busy Bee--_Isaac Watts_ 77 Suppose--_Phoebe Cary_ 78 Twinkle, Twinkle 79 Pretty Cow--_Jane Taylor_ 80 The Three Little Kittens--_Eliza Lee Follen_ 80 The Land of Counterpane--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 82 There was a Little Girl--_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 82 The Boy who never Told a Lie 83 Foreign Children--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 84 The Unseen Playmate--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 84 I saw Three Ships 85 A Was an Ant--_Edward Lear_ 86 The Table and the Chair--_Edward Lear_ 91 Precocious Piggy--_Thomas Hood_ 93 A Boy's Song--_James Hogg_ 94 Buttercups and Daisies--_Mary Howitt_ 95 The Violet--_Jane Taylor_ 96 If ever I See--_Lydia Maria Child_ 97 The Little Land--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 97 A Lobster Quadrille--_Lewis Carroll_ 99 Where Go the Boats--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 100 The Wind and the Moon--_George Macdonald_ 101 Where are you Going my Pretty Maid 103 The Lost Doll--_Charles Kingsley_ 104 Foreign Lands--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 104 Bed in Summer--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 105 Try Again 106 A Good Play--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 106 Good Night and Good Morning--_Richard Monckton Milnes_ 107 The Wind--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 108 The Spider and the Fly--_Mary Howitt_ 109 Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite--_Isaac Watts_ 110 Child's Evening Hymn--_Sabine Baring-Gould_ 111

CHILDREN'S FAVORITE STORIES

Hansel and Gretel 113 The Fair Catherine and Pif-Paf Poltrie 120 The Wolf and the Fox 122 Descreet Hans 123 Puss in Boots 126 The Elves and the Shoemaker 131 Hans in Luck 133 Master of All Masters 138 Belling the Cat 139 Little Red Riding-Hood 140 The Nail 144 Jack and the Beanstalk 145 How to Tell a True Princess 149 The Sleeping Beauty 150

OLD FASHIONED POEMS

The Man in the Moon--_James Whitcombe Riley_ 158 Sage Counsel--_Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch_ 160 Limericks--_Edward Lear_ 161 More Limericks--_Rudyard Kipling_ and _Anonymous_ 162 The Dead Doll--_Margaret Vandergrift_ 163 Little Things--_Ascribed to Julia A. F. Carney_ 165 The Golden Rule--_Unknown_ 165 Do the Best You Can--_Unknown_ 165 The Voice of Spring 166 The Lark and the Rook--_Unknown_ 166 Thanksgiving Day--_Lydia Maria Child_ 168 The Magpie's Nest--_Unknown_ 169 The Fairies of Caldon Low--_Mary Howitt_ 169 The Land of Story Books--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 172 A Visit From St. Nicholas--_Clement Clarke Moore_ 173 Little Orphant Annie--_James Whitcombe Riley_ 175 The Chatterbox--_Ann Taylor_ 177 The Voice of Spring--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 178 The History Lesson--_Anonymous_ 179 Song of Life--_Charles Mackay_ 180 The Good Time Coming--_Charles Mackay_ 181 Windy Nights--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 183 The Wonderful World--_William Brighty Rands_ 184 Hark! Hark! The Lark--_William Shakespeare_ 185 Jog On, Jog On--_William Shakespeare_ 185 Sweet Story of Old--_Jemima Luke_ 186 My Shadow--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 186 By Cool Siloam's Shady Rill--_Reginald Heber_ 187 The Wind in a Frolic--_William Howitt_ 188 The Graves of a Household--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 189 We Are Seven--_William Wordsworth_ 190 The Better Land--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 193 The Juvenile Orator--_David Everett_ 194 The Fox and the Crow--_Little B. (Taylor?)_ 195 The Use of Flowers--_Mary Howitt_ 196 Contented John--_Jane Taylor_ 197 The Old Man's Comforts, and How He Gained Them--_Robert Southey_ 198 The Frost--_Hannah Flagg Gould_ 199 The Battle of Blenheim--_Robert Southey_ 200 The Chameleon--_James Merrick_ (_from M. de Lamotte_) 202 The Blackberry Girl--_Unknown_ 205 Mabel on Midsummer Day--_Mary Howitt_ 207 Llewellyn and his Dog--_Willim Robert Spencer_ 214 The Snowbird's Song--_Francis C. Woodworth_ 217 For A' That and A' That--_Robert Burns_ 218

FABLES

FABLES FROM ÆSOP

The Goose that Laid Golden Eggs 220 The Boys and the Frogs 220 The Lion and the Mouse 220 The Fox and the Grapes 221 The Frog and the Ox 221 The Cat, the Monkey, and the Chestnuts 221 The Country Maid and Her Milkpail 222 The Ass in the Lion's Skin 222 The Tortoise and the Hare 223 The Vain Jackdaw 223 The Fox Without a Tail 224 The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 224 The Crow and the Pitcher 225 The Man, his Son, and his Ass 225

FABLES OF INDIA

_Adapted by P. V. Ramaswami Raju_

The Camel and the Pig 226 The Man and his Piece of Cloth 227 The Sea, the Fox, and the Wolf 227 The Birds and the Lime 228 The Raven and the Cattle 228 Tinsel and Lightning 229 The Ass and the Watchdog 229 The Lark and its Young Ones 230 The Two Gems 230

FAIRY TALES AND LAUGHTER STORIES

SCANDINAVIAN STORIES

The Hardy Tin Soldier--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 232 The Fir Tree--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 236 The Darning-Needle--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 245 Thumbelina--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 248 The Tinder-Box--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 258 Boots and his Brothers--_George Webbe Dasent_ 268 The Husband who was to Mind the House _George Webbe Dasent_ 273 Buttercup--_George Webbe Dasent_ 275

GERMAN STORIES

Seven at One Blow--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 279 One Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 286 The Musicians of Bremen--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 293 The Fisherman and his Wife--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 296 Little Snow-White--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 304 The Goose Girl--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 313 The Golden Bird--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 318

FRENCH STORIES

Beauty and the Beast--_Adapted by E. Nesbit_ 326 The White Cat--_The Comtesse d'Aulnoy_ 335 The Story of Pretty Goldilocks 341 Toads and Diamonds 346

ENGLISH STORIES

The History of Tom-Thumb--_Adapted by Ernest Rhys_ 349 Jack the Giant Killer--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 356 The Three Sillies--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 366

CELTIC STORIES

King O'Toole and his Goose--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 370 The Haughty Princess--_Adapted by Patrick Kennedy_ 373 Jack and his Master--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 376 Hudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary _Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 383 Connla of the Golden Hair and the Fairy Maiden _Adapted by Patrick Weston Joyce_ 389

ITALIAN STORIES

Pinocchio's Adventures in Wonderland--_Carlo Lorenzini_ 394

JAPANESE STORIES

The Story of the Man who did not wish to Die _Adapted by Yei Theodora Ozaki_ 420 The Accomplished and Lucky Teakettle _Adapted by A. B. Mitford_ 427 The Tongue-cut Sparrow 428 Battle of the Monkey and the Crab 429 Momotaro, or Little Peachling 431 Uraschina Taro and the Turtle 432

EAST INDIAN STORIES

The Son of Seven Queens--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 436 Who Killed the Otter's Babies--_Adapted by Walter Skeat_ 444 The Alligator and the Jackal--_Adapted by M. Frere_ 446 The Farmer and the Money Lender 450 Tit for Tat--_Adapted by M. Frere_ 452 Singh Rajah and the Cunning Little Jackals _Adapted by M. Frere_ 454

AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES

The White Stone Canoe--_Adapted by H. R. Schoolcraft_ 456 The Maiden who Loved a Fish 459 The Star Wife 462

ARABIAN STORIES

The Story of Caliph Stork 468 Persevere and Prosper--_Adapted by A. R. Montalba_ 473

CHINESE STORIES

The Most Frugal of Men 476 The Moon-Cake 477 The Ladle that Fell from the Moon 478 The Young Head of the Family 480 A Dreadful Boar 484

RUSSIAN STORIES

King Kojata 487 The Story of King Frost 492

TALES FOR TINY TOTS

Tell Us a Tale--_Edward Shirley_ 496 Little Red Hen 497 In Search of a Baby--_F. Tapsell_ 498 Jock and I and the Others 500 Dolly Dimple--_F. Tapsell_ 502 The Tale of Peter Rabbit--_Beatrix Potter_ 503 The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass 506 The Visit to Santa Claus Land 507 The Greedy Brownie 511 The Fairies' Passage--_James Clarence Mangan_ 513 The World 515

FANCIFUL STORIES

White Magic 516 The Brownies--_Juliana Horatia Ewing_ 517 The Story of Peter Pan 522 Sir Lark and King Sun--_George MacDonald_ 525 The Imps in the Heavenly Meadow--_Kate E. Bunce_ 526 The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen--_Hapgood Moore_ 531

ILLUSTRATIONS

Thumbelina Came to Live with the Field-Mouse (_color_) Frontispiece Simple Simon Went a-Fishing Facing Page 6 There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe 8 Little Miss Muffet 8 Old Mother Hubbard 18 The Death of Cock-Robin 26 "Who Has Been Tasting My Soup?" 34 It Was Her Fairy Godmother! 38 I Was the Giant Great and Still, that Sits Upon the Pillow Hill 82 I Found My Poor Little Doll 104 A Fair Little Girl Sat Under a Tree 108 Hansel and Gretel 118 Do Not Grieve, Dear Master 126 Little Red Riding-Hood 140 Red Riding-Hood and the Wolf 142 Prince Florimond Finds the Sleeping Beauty 150 The Tortoise and the Hare 222 The Fox without a Tail 222 A Voice Said Aloud, "The Tin Soldier!" 234 Two-Eyes, the Goat, and the 'Magic Table 286 Little Snow-White and the Peddler-Woman 306 The Prince Starts Homeward with His Treasure 322 The Castle of the White Cat 336 She Was Happy All Day Long in Fairyland 340 This is the Valiant Cornishman Who Slew the Giant Cormoran 358 Connla and the Fairy Maiden 390 A Pheasant Also Came Flying and Said: "Give Me a Dumpling" 434

_(Many of the illustrations in this volume are reproduced by special permission of E. P. Dutton & Company, owners of the American rights.)_

CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITES

AND

FAIRY STORIES

* * * * *

NURSERY RHYMES

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!

* * * * *

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."

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

Pat it, kiss it,
Stroke it, bless it;
Three days' sunshine, three days' rain,
Little hand all well again.

* * * * *

Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, marry, have I,
Three bags full:

One for my master,
One for my dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives in the lane.

* * * * *

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 her chair.

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea,
Silver buckles on his knee;
He'll come back and marry me,
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

Bobby Shaftoe's fat and fair,
Combing down his yellow hair;
He's my love for evermair,
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

* * * * *

Tom, he was a piper's son,
He learned to play when he was young,
And all the tune that he could play
Was, "Over the hills and far away,"
Over the hills, and a great way off,
The wind will blow my top-knot off.

Now, Tom with his pipe made such a noise
That he well pleased both the girls and boys,
And they always stopped to hear him play
"Over the hills and far away."

* * * * *

Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home,
Thy house is on fire, thy children all gone:
All but one whose name is Ann,
And she crept under the pudding-pan.

* * * * *

The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the robin do then,
Poor thing?

He'll sit in a barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing,
Poor thing!

* * * * *

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 lashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now
For all the lady's hire.

* * * * *

I had a little doggy that used to sit and beg;
But Doggy tumbled down the stairs and broke his little leg.
Oh! Doggy, I will nurse you, and try to make you well,
And you shall have a collar with a little silver bell.

* * * * *

Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Let me taste your ware."

Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
"Show me first your penny."
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Indeed I have not any."

Simple Simon went a-fishing
For to catch a whale;
But all the water he could find
Was in his mother's pail!

* * * * *

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down, and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.

Up Jack got and home did trot
As fast as he could caper;
Went to bed to mend his head
With vinegar and brown paper.

Jill came in and she did grin,
To see his paper plaster,
Mother, vexed, did whip her next,
For causing Jack's disaster.

* * * * *

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
Where's the boy that looks after the sheep?
He's under the haycock, fast asleep.

* * * * *

Old Mother Goose, when
She wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.

Mother Goose had a house,
'T was built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For sentinel stood.

She had a son Jack,
A plain-looking lad;
He was 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 called him a good boy,
And said it was well.

* * * * *

Goosey, goosey, gander,
Where shall I wander?
Upstairs, downstairs,
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who would not say his prayers;
I took him by the left leg,
And threw him downstairs.

* * * * *

I'll tell you a story
About Mary Morey,
And now my story's begun,
I'll tell you another
About her brother,
And now my story's done.

* * * * *

Three wise men of Gotham,
Went to sea in a bowl;
If the bowl had been stronger,
My song had been longer.

* * * * *

There was a crooked man,
And he went a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence
Upon a crooked stile:
He bought a crooked cat,
That caught a crooked mouse--
And they all lived together
In a little crooked house.

* * * * *

There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise,
He jumped into a bramble bush,
And scratched out both his eyes;
But when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main,
He jumped into another bush,
And scratched 'em in again.

* * * * *

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 away with the spoon.

* * * * *

Hickory, dickory, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock;
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.

* * * * *

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread,
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

* * * * *

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a great spider,
And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

* * * * *

If all the seas were one sea,
What a _great_ sea that would be!
And if all the trees were one tree,
What a _great_ tree that would be!
And if all the axes were one axe,
What a _great_ axe that would be!
And if all the men were one man,
What a _great_ man he would be!
And if the _great_ man took the _great_ axe,
And cut down the _great_ tree,
And let it fall into the _great_ sea,
What a splish splash _that_ would be!

* * * * *

There was an old man,
And he had a calf,
And that's half;

He took him out of the stall,
And tied him to the wall,
And that's all.

* * * * *

The man in the wilderness asked me,
How many strawberries grew in the sea?
I answered him as I thought good,
As many as red herrings grew in the wood

* * * * *

If all the world were apple-pie,
And all the sea were ink,
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What should we have for drink?

* * * * *

I saw a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea;
And it was full of pretty things
For baby and for me.

There were sweetmeats in the cabin,
And apples in the hold;
The sails were made of silk,
And the masts were made of gold.

The four-and-twenty sailors
That stood between the decks,
Were four-and-twenty white mice.
With chains about their necks.

The captain was a duck,
With a packet on his back;
And when the ship began to move,
The captain cried, "Quack, quack!"

* * * * *

My dear, do you know,
How 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, as I've heard people say.

And when it was night,
So sad was their plight!
The sun it went down,
And the moon gave no light!
They sobbed and they sighed, 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!
Oh don't you remember the babes in the wood?"

* * * * *

The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts
All on a summer's day;
The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts,
And took them clean away.

The King of Hearts called for the tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore;
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.

* * * * *

I had a little husband,
No bigger than my thumb;
I put him in a pint-pot,
And there I bade him drum.

I bought a little horse,
That galloped up and down;
I bridled him, and saddled
And sent him out of town.

I gave him little garters,
To garter up his hose,
And a little handkerchief,
To wipe his little nose.

* * * * *

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 parlor,
Eating bread and honey;

The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes;
When up came a blackbird,
And nipped off her nose.

* * * * *

Little Bo-peep, she 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 dreamed she heard them bleating;
When she awoke she found it a joke,
For they still were all fleeting.

Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they'd left their tails behind them!

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,
That each tail should be properly placed.

* * * * *

What are little boys made of, made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails;
And that's what little boys are made of, made of.

What are little girls made of, made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice, and all that's nice;
And that's what little girls are made of, made of.

* * * * *

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!

* * * * *

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!

* * * * *

WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY?

What does little birdie say,
In her nest at peep of day?
"Let me fly," says little birdie,
"Mother, let me fly away."

Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.

What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
"Let me rise and fly away."

Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby, too, shall fly away.

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

* * * * *

GOOD NIGHT

Little baby, lay your head
On your pretty cradle-bed;
Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
And the light are gone away;
All the clothes are tucked in tight;
Little baby dear, good night.

Yes, my darling, well I know
How the bitter wind doth blow;
And the winter's snow and rain
Patter on the window-pane:
But they cannot come in here,
To my little baby dear;

For the window shutteth fast,
Till the stormy night is past;
And the curtains warm are spread
Round about her cradle-bed:
So till morning shineth bright,
Little baby dear, good night.

JANE TAYLOR

* * * * *

SWEET AND LOW

Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me:
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

* * * * *

BABY-LAND

Which is the way to Baby-Land?
Any one can tell;
Up one flight,
To your right;
Please to ring the bell.

What can you see in Baby-Land?
Little folks in white,
Downy heads,
Cradle-beds,
Faces pure and bright.

What do they do in Baby-Land?
Dream and wake and play,
Laugh and crow,
Shout and grow,
Jolly times have they.

What do they say in Baby-Land?
Why, the oddest things;
Might as well
Try to tell
What a birdie sings.

Who is the Queen of Baby-Land?
Mother kind and sweet;
And her love,
Born above,
Guides the little feet.

GEORGE COOPER

* * * * *

Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard,
To get her poor dog a bone.
When she got there, the cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker's to buy him some bread,
But when she came back the poor dog was dead.

She went to the undertaker's to buy him a coffin,
And when she came back the dog was laughing.

She went to the draper's to buy him some linen,
And when she came back the good dog was spinning.

She went to the hosier's to buy him some hose,
And when she came back he was dressed in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsy, the dog made a bow,
The dame said "your servant," the dog said "Bow-wow."

She went to the hatter's to buy him a hat,
And when she came back he was feeding the cat.

She went to the tailor's to buy him a coat,
And when she came back he was riding the goat.

She went to the barber's to buy him a wig,
And when she came back he was dancing a jig.

She went to the butcher's to get him some tripe,
And when she came back he was smoking a pipe.

She went to the fish-shop to buy him some fish,
And when she came back he was washing the dish.

She went to the tavern for white wine and red,
And when she came back the dog stood on his head.

* * * * *

As I was going to St. Ives
I met a man with seven wives;
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits.
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?

* * * * *

POLLY

Brown eyes, straight nose;
Dirt pies, rumpled clothes.

Torn books, spoilt toys:
Arch looks, unlike a boy's;

Little rages, obvious arts;
(Three her age is), cakes, tarts;

Falling down off chairs;
Breaking crown down stairs;

Catching flies on the pane;
Deep sighs--cause not plain;

Bribing you with kisses
For a few farthing blisses.

Wide-a-wake; as you hear,
"Mercy's sake, quiet, dear!"

New shoes, new frock;
Vague views of what's o'clock

When it's time to go to bed,
And scorn sublime for what is said

Folded hands, saying prayers,
Understands not nor cares--

Thinks it odd, smiles away;
Yet may God hear her pray!

Bed gown white, kiss Dolly;
Good night!--that's Polly,

Fast asleep, as you see,
Heaven keep my girl for me!

WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS

* * * * *

CRADLE HYMN

Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care, or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.

How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven He descended,
And became a child like thee!

Soft and easy is thy cradle;
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When His birthplace was a stable,
And His softest bed was hay.

See the kindly shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
When they sought Him, there they found Him,
With his Virgin-Mother by.

See the lovely babe a-dressing;
Lovely infant, how He smiled!
When He wept, the mother's blessing
Soothed and hushed the holy child.

Lo, He slumbers in His manger,
Where the honest oxen fed;
--Peace, my darling! here's no danger!
Here's no ox a-near thy bed!

Mayst thou live to know and fear Him,
Trust and love Him all thy days;
Then go dwell forever near Him,
See His face, and sing His praise!

I could give thee thousand kisses,
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire.

ISAAC WATTS

* * * * *

I LIKE LITTLE PUSSY

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;
She shall sit by my side,
And I'll give her some food;
And she'll love me because
I am gentle and good.

I'll pat little Pussy,
And then she will purr,
And thus show her thanks
For my kindness to her;
I'll not pinch her ears,
Nor tread on her paw,
Lest I should provoke her
To use her sharp claw;
I never will vex her,
Nor make her displeased,
For Pussy can't bear
To be worried or teased.

JANE TAYLOR

* * * * *

THE GRAVEL PATH

Baby mustn't frown,
When she tumbles down;
If the wind should change--Ah me,
What a face her face would be!

Rub away the dirt,
Say she wasn't hurt;
What a world 'twould be--O my,
If all who fell began to cry!

LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA

* * * * *

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;
Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran;
Said 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 naught but "Mew," and Robin flew away.

* * * * *

SLEEP, MY TREASURE

Sleep, sleep, my treasure,
The long day's pleasure
Has tired the birds, to their nests they creep;
The garden still is
Alight with lilies,
But all the daisies are fast asleep.

Sleep, sleep, my darling,
Dawn wakes the starling,
The sparrow stirs when he sees day break;
But all the meadow
Is wrapped in shadow,
And you must sleep till the daisies wake!

E. NESBIT

* * * * *

LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF

Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,
Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;
The woods and the glens from the tower which we see,
They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.

Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.

Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

SIR WALTER SCOTT

* * * * *

THE ORPHAN'S SONG

I had a little bird,
I took it from the nest;
I prest it and blest it,
And nurst it in my breast.

I set it on the ground,
Danced round and round,
And sang about it so cheerly,
With "Hey, my little bird,
And ho! my little bird,
And oh! but I love thee dearly!"

I make a little feast
Of food soft and sweet,
I hold it in my breast,
And coax it to eat;

I pit, and I pat,
I call this and that,
And I sing about so cheerly,
With "Hey, my little bird,
And ho! my little bird,
And oh! but I love thee dearly!"

SYDNEY DOBELL

* * * * *

THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF COCK ROBIN

Who killed Cock Robin?
"I," said the Sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin."

Who saw him die?
"I," said the Fly,
"With my little eye,
I saw him die."

Who caught his blood?
"I," said the Fish,
"With my little dish,
I caught his blood."

Who'll make his shroud?
"I," said the Beetle,
"With my thread and needle,
I'll make his shroud."

Who'll bear the torch?
"I," said the Linnet,
"I'll come in a minute,
I'll bear the torch."

Who'll be the clerk?
"I," said the Lark,
"I'll say Amen in the dark;
I'll be the clerk."

Who'll dig his grave?
"I," said the Owl,
"With my spade and trowel,
I'll dig his grave."

Who'll be the parson?
"I," said the Rook,
"With my little book,
I'll be the parson."

Who'll be chief mourner?
"I," said the Dove,
"I mourn for my love;
I'll be chief mourner."

Who'll sing his dirge?
"I," said the Thrush,
"As I sing in a bush,
I'll sing his dirge."

* * * * *

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARS?

Do you know how many stars
There are shining in the skies?
Do you know how many clouds
Ev'ry day go floating by?
God in heaven has counted all,
He would miss one should it fall.

Do you know how many children
Go to little beds at night,
And without a care or sorrow,
Wake up in the morning light?
God in heaven each name can tell,
Loves you, too, and loves you well.

* * * * *

WHERE DO ALL THE DAISIES GO?

Where do all the daisies go?
I know, I know!
Underneath the snow they creep,
Nod their little heads and sleep,
In the springtime out they peep;
That is where they go!

Where do all the birdies go?
I know, I know!
Far away from winter snow
To the fair, warm South they go;
There they stay till daisies blow,
That is where they go!

Where do all the babies go?
I know, I know!
In the glancing firelight warm,
Safely sheltered from all harm,
Soft they lie on mother's arm,
That is where they go!

UNKNOWN

* * * * *

Cock crows in the morn,
To tell us to rise,
And he who lies late
Will never be wise.
For early to bed,
And early to rise,
Is the way to be healthy
And wealthy and wise.

* * * * *

THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

* * * * *

TREE ON THE HILL

On yonder hill there stands a tree;
Tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the tree there was a branch;
Branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill
stood still.

And on the branch there was a nest;
Nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on
the hill, and the hill stood still.

And in the nest there was an egg;
Egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on
the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood
still.

And in the egg there was a bird;
Bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the
branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill,
and the hill stood still.

And on the bird there was a feather;
Feather on the bird, bird in the egg, egg in the
nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree,
tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

* * * * *

A LITTLE BOY'S POCKET

Do you know what's in my pottet?
Such a lot of treasures in it!
Listen now while I bedin it:
Such a lot of sings it holds,
And everysin dats in my pottet,
And when, and where, and how I dot it.
First of all, here's in my pottet
A beauty shell, I pit'd it up:
And here's the handle of a tup
That somebody has broked at tea;
The shell's a hole in it, you see:
Nobody knows dat I dot it,
I teep it safe here in my pottet.
And here's my ball too in my pottet,
And here's my pennies, one, two, free,
That Aunty Mary dave to me,
To-morrow day I'll buy a spade,
When I'm out walking with the maid;
I tant put that in here my pottet!
But I can use it when I've dot it.
Here's some more sings in my pottet,
Here's my lead, and here's my string;
And once I had an iron ring,
But through a hole it lost one day,
And this is what I always say--
A hole's the worst sing in a pottet,
Be sure and mend it when you've dot it.

UNKNOWN

* * * * *

NURSERY TALES

* * * * *

THE THREE BEARS

Little Goldilocks was a pretty girl who lived once upon a time in a far-off country.

One day she was sitting on the hearthrug playing with her two kittens, and you would have thought she was as happy as a queen, and quite contented to stay where she was instead of wanting to run about the world meddling with other people's property. But it happened that she was rather a mischievous little maid, and could not resist teasing her pets, so one of them scratched her, and then she would play with them no longer.

She got up and trotted away into the wood behind her mother's house, and it was such a warm, pleasant day that she wandered on and on until she came into a part of the wood where she had never been before.

Now, in this wood there lived a family of three Bears. The first was a GREAT BIG BEAR, the second was a MIDDLING-SIZED BEAR, and the third was a LITTLE TEENY TINY BEAR, and they all lived together in a funny little house, and very happy they were.

Goldilocks stopped when she came to the Bears' house, and began to wonder who lived there.

"I'll just look in and see," she said, and so she did; but there was no one there, for the Bears had all gone out for a morning walk, whilst the soup they were going to have for dinner cooled upon the table.

Goldilocks was rather hungry after her walk, and the soup smelt so good that she began to wish the people of the house would come home and invite her to have some. But although she looked everywhere, under the table and into the cupboards, she could find no one, and at last she could resist no longer, but made up her mind to take just a little sip to see how the soup tasted. The soup had been put into three bowls--a Great Big Bowl for the Great Big Bear, a Middling-sized Bowl for the Middling-sized Bear, and a Teeny Tiny Bowl for the Teeny Tiny Bear; beside each bowl lay a spoon, and Goldilocks took one and helped herself to a spoonful of soup from the Great Big Bowl.

Ugh! how it burnt her mouth; it was so hot with pepper that she did not like it at all; still, she was very hungry, so she thought she would try again.

This time she took a sip of the Middling-sized Bear's soup, but she liked that no better, for it was too salt. But when she tasted the Teeny Tiny Bear's soup it was just as she liked it; so she ate it up every drop, without thinking twice about it.

When she had finished her dinner she noticed three chairs standing by the wall. One was a Great Big Chair, and she climbed upon that and sat down. Oh, dear! how hard it was! She was sure she could not sit there for long, so she climbed up on the next, which was only a Middling-sized Chair, but that was too soft for her taste; so she went on to the last, which was a Teeny Tiny Chair and suited her exactly.

It was so comfortable that she sat on and on until, if you'll believe it, she actually sat the bottom out. Then, of course, she was comfortable no longer, so she got up and began to wonder what she should do next.

There was a staircase in the Bears' house, and Goldilocks thought she would go up it and see where it led to. So up she went, and when she reached the top she laughed outright, for the Bears' bedroom was the funniest she had ever seen. In the middle of the room stood a Great Big Bed, on one side of it there was a Middling-sized Bed, and on the other side there was a Teeny Tiny Bed.

Goldilocks was sleepy, so she thought she would lie down and have a little nap. First she got upon the Great Big Bed, but it was just as hard as the Great Big Chair had been; so she jumped off and tried the Middling-sized Bed, but it was so soft that she sank right down into the feather cushions and was nearly smothered.

"I will try the Teeny Tiny Bed," she said, and so she did, and it was so comfortable that she soon fell fast asleep.

Whilst she lay there, dreaming of all sorts of pleasant things, the three Bears came home from their walk very hungry and quite ready for their dinners.

But, oh! dear me! how cross the Great Big Bear looked when he saw his spoon had been used and thrown under the table.

"WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MY SOUP?" he cried, in a Great Big Voice.

"AND WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE?" cried the Middling-sized Bear, in a Middling-sized Voice.

"BUT WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE AND TASTED IT ALL UP?" cried the poor little Teeny Tiny Bear in a Teeny Tiny Voice, with the tears running down his Teeny Tiny Face.

When the Great Big Bear went to sit down in his Great Big Chair, he cried out in his Great Big Voice:

"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR?"

And the Middling-sized Bear cried, in a Middling-sized Voice:

"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR?"

But the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out in a Teeny Tiny Voice of anger:

"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR, AND SAT THE BOTTOM OUT?"

By this time the Bears were sure that someone had been in their house quite lately; so they looked about to see if someone were not there still.

There was certainly no one downstairs, so they went up the staircase to their bedroom.

As soon as the Great Big Bear looked at his bed, he cried out, in his Great Big Voice:

"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED?"

And the Middling-sized Bear, seeing that the coverlet was all rumpled, cried out, in a Middling-sized Voice:

"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED?"

But the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out, in a Teeny Tiny Voice of astonishment:

"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED AND LIES THERE STILL?"

Now, when the Great Big Bear began to speak, Goldilocks dreamt that there was a bee buzzing in the room, and when the Middling-sized Bear began to speak, she dreamt that it was flying out of the window; but when the Teeny Tiny Bear began to speak, she dreamt that the bee had come back and stung her on the ear, and up she jumped. Oh! how frightened she was when she saw the three Bears standing beside her.

She hopped out of bed and in a second was out through the open window. Never stopping to wonder if the fall had hurt her, she got up and ran and ran and ran until she could go no farther, always thinking that the Bears were close behind her. And when at length she fell down in a heap on the ground, because she was too tired to run any more, it was her own mother who picked her up, because in her fright she had run straight home without knowing it.

* * * * *

CINDERELLA

Once upon a time there lived a noble gentleman who had one dear little daughter. Poor child! her own kind mother was dead, and her father, who loved her very dearly, was afraid that his little girl was sometimes lonely. So he married a grand lady who had two daughters of her own, and who, he thought, would be kind and good to his little one. But no sooner did the stepmother enter her new home than she began to show her true character. Her stepdaughter was so much prettier and sweeter than her own children, that she was jealous of her, and gave her all the hard work of the house to do, whilst the two proud sisters spent their time at pleasant parties and entertainments.

The only pleasure the poor child had was to spend her evenings sitting in the chimney-corner, resting her weary limbs, and for this reason her sisters mockingly nicknamed her "Cinderella." The sisters' fine clothes made Cinderella feel very shabby; but, in her little torn frock and ragged shoes, she was a thousand times more lovely than they.

Now, it chanced that the King's son gave a grand ball, to which he invited all the lords and ladies in the country, and, amongst the rest, Cinderella's two sisters were asked. How pleased and excited they were when the invitation arrived! For days they could talk of nothing but the clothes they should wear and the grand folk they hoped to meet.

When at last the great day arrived, Cinderella was kept running about from early till late, decking the sisters, and dressing their hair.

"Don't you wish you were going to the ball?" said one of them.

"Indeed I do," sighed the poor little maid. The sisters burst out laughing. "A pretty spectacle _you_ would be," they said rudely. "Go back to your cinders--they are fit company for rags." Then, stepping carefully into their carriage so that they might not crush their fine clothes, they drove away to the ball.

Cinderella went back to her chimney-corner, and tried not to feel envious, but the tears _would_ gather in the pretty eyes, and trickle down the sorrowful little face.

"What are you crying for, child?" cried a silvery voice.

Cinderella started, and raised her eyes. Who could it be? Then in a moment she knew--it was her fairy Godmother!

"I do so want----" began Cinderella; then her sobs stopped her.

"To go to the ball," finished the Godmother. Cinderella nodded. "Well, leave off crying--be a good girl, and you shall go. Run quickly into the garden, and bring the largest pumpkin you can find."

Cinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to go to the ball, but her only thought was to obey her Godmother. In a few moments she was back again, with a splendid pumpkin. Her Godmother scooped out the inside--one touch of the wand, and the pumpkin was a golden coach, lined with white satin.

"Now, godchild, quick--the mouse-trap from the pantry!"

"Here it is, Godmother," said Cinderella breathlessly.

One by one six fat sleek mice passed through the trap door. As each appeared, a touch of the wand transformed it into a cream-colored horse, fit for a queen.

"Now, Cinderella, can you find a coachman?"

"There is a large gray rat in the rat-trap--would he do, Godmother?"

"Run and fetch him, child, and then I can judge," So Cinderella ran to fetch the rat, and her Godmother said he was just made for a coachman; and I think you would have agreed with her had you seen him a moment later, with his powdered wig and silk stockings.

Six lizards from behind the pumpkin-frame became six footmen in splendid liveries--you would have thought they had been footmen all their lives. Cinderella was so excited that she could scarcely speak.

"Oh! Godmother," she cried, "it is all so lovely!" Then suddenly she thought of her shabby frock. "There is my white muslin," she said wistfully, "if--do you think----"