Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Book- A canter! a canter! a canter! a canter! Here goes my young master-- Jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! jockey-hitch! Here goes my young miss-- An amble! an amble! an amble! an amble! The footman lags behind, And goes gallop, a gallop, a gallop, to make up his time. A FARMER WENT TROTTING 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; Lumpety, lumpety, lump! UP TO THE CEILING Up to the ceiling, down to the ground, Backward and forward, round and round; Dance, little baby, and mother will sing, With the merry chorus, ding, ding, ding! THE MESSENGER Here in the morning we're starting so soon, Give us a message, we'll ride to the moon, Straight through the meadows and hop o'er the stile, And we will but charge you a farthing a mile. A farthing a mile! a farthing a mile! We will but charge you a farthing a mile. CATCH HIM, CROW Catch him, crow! Carry him, kite! Take him away till the apples are ripe; When they are ripe and ready to fall, Home comes [Johnny], apples and all. RIDE A COCK-HORSE Ride a Cock-Horse to Charing Cross, To see a Young Lady jump on a White Horse, With Rings on her Fingers, and Bells on her Toes, She shall have Music wherever she goes. THIS IS THE WAY This is the way the ladies ride, Nin! Nin! Nin! This is the way the gentlemen ride, Trot! Trot! Trot! This is the way the farmers ride, Jogglety! Jogglety! Jogglety! Jog! RIDE AWAY, RIDE AWAY Ride away, ride away, Johnny shall ride, And he shall have pussy-cat Tied to one side; And he shall have little dog Tied to the other, And Johnny shall ride To see his grandmother. TO MARKET, TO MARKET To market, to market, To buy a plum bun; Home again, home again, My journey is done. TROT, TROT, THE BABY GOES BY MARY F. BUTTS Every evening Baby goes Trot, trot, to town-- Across the river, through the fields, Up hill and down. Trot, trot, the Baby goes, Up hill and down, To buy a feather for her hat, To buy a woolen gown. Trot, trot, the Baby goes; The birds fly down, alack! "You cannot have our feathers, dear," They say; "so please trot back." Trot, trot, the Baby goes; The lambs come bleating near. "You cannot have our wool," they say; "But we are sorry, dear." Trot, trot, the Baby goes, Trot, trot, to town. She buys a red rose for her hat, She buys a cotton gown. RIDE A COCK-HORSE Ride a cock-horse to Banbury-cross, To see what Tommy can buy; A penny white loaf, a penny white cake, And a two-penny apple pie. * * * Ride a cock-horse to Shrewsbury-cross, To buy little Johnny a galloping horse; It trots behind and it ambles before, And Johnny shall ride till he can ride no more. Here we go UP, UP, UP! Here we DOWN, DOWN, DOWN! Here we go BACKWARDS and FORWARDS! And here we go AROUND AND AROUND! #MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES# WHO ARE THESE? HERE ARE ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX STORY-BOOK PICTURES. ALL LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS KNOW THE SIX STORIES THAT THESE SIX PICTURES BELONG TO. TELL YOUR MAMA AND PAPA WHAT THE STORIES ARE. [Illustration: THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN FROM A DRAWING BY ANNE ANDERSON ] I SAW A SHIP A-SAILING I saw a ship a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea; And, oh! it was all laden With pretty things for thee! There were candies 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!" GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER Goosey, goosey, gander, where dost thou wander? Up stairs and down stairs, and in my lady's chamber; There I met an old man that would not say his prayers, I took him by his hind legs and threw him down stairs. THE WIND Arthur O'Bower has broken his band, He comes roaring up the land-- A King of Scots, with all his power, Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower. ONCE I SAW A LITTLE BIRD Once I saw a little bird Come hop, hop, hop, So I said, "Little bird, Will you stop, stop, stop?" I was going to the window To say, "How do you do?" But he shook his little tail And far away he flew. RING-A-RING-A-ROSES Ring-a-ring-a-roses, A pocket full of posies; Hush! hush! hush! hush! We're all tumbled down. CROSS PATCH Cross patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, And call your neighbors in. HAPPY LET US BE Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring; Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free, And a merry sing-song, happy let us be! Merry have we met, and merry have we been; Merry let us part, and merry meet again; With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free, And a merry ding-dong, happy let us be! THE OLD WOMAN IN THE BASKET There was an old woman tossed up in a basket, Nineteen times as high as the moon; Where she was going I couldn't but ask it For in her hand she carried a broom. "Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I, O whither, O whither, O whither so high?" "To brush the cobwebs off the sky!" "Shall I go with thee?" "Aye, by-and-by." [Illustration: _From a Drawing by Arthur Rackham_ "Where she was going I couldn't but ask it, For in her hand she carried a broom."] THE FOX AND THE OLD GRAY GOOSE The fox and his wife they had a great strife, They never ate mustard in all their whole life; They ate their meat without fork or knife, And loved to be picking a bone, e-ho! The fox jumped up on a moonlight night, The stars they were shining, and all things bright. Oh, ho! said the fox, it's a very fine night For me to go through the town, e-ho! The fox when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his lugs and he listened awhile; Oh, ho, said the fox, it's but a short mile From this unto yonder wee town, e-ho! The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, Who should he see but the farmer's drake; I love you well for your master's sake, And long to be picking your bone, e-ho! The gray goose she ran round the hay-stack. Oh, ho! said the fox, you are very fat; You'll grease my beard and ride on my back From this unto yonder wee town e-ho! Old Gammer Hipple-hopple hopped out of bed, She opened the casement, and popped out her head. Oh! husband, oh! husband, the gray goose is dead, And the fox is gone through the town, oh! Then the old man got up in his red cap, And swore he would catch the fox in a trap; But the fox was too cunning, and gave him the slip, And ran |