And he hopped and he skipped, and he skipped and he hopped, Until he came down to the sh.o.r.e.
And there on the rocks sat the little mermaid, And still she was singing so free, "Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won"t you come out to me?"
Little John Bottlejohn made a bow, And the mermaid, she made one too, And she said, "Oh! I never saw any one half So perfectly sweet as you!
In my lovely home "neath the ocean foam, How happy we both might be!
Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won"t you come down with me?"
Little John Bottlejohn said, "Oh yes!
I"ll willingly go with you.
And I never shall quail at the sight of your tail, For perhaps I may grow one too."
So he took her hand, and he left the land, And plunged in the foaming main.
And little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Never was seen again.
JEMIMA BROWN.
I.
Bring her here, my little Alice, Poor Jemima Brown!
Make the little cradle ready!
Softly lay her down!
Once she lived in ease and comfort, Slept on couch of down; Now upon the floor she"s lying, Poor Jemima Brown!
II.
Once she was a lovely dolly, Rosy-cheeked and fair, With her eyes of brightest azure And her golden hair; Now, alas! no hair"s remaining On her poor old crown; And the crown itself is broken, Poor Jemima Brown!
III.
Once her legs were smooth and comely, And her nose was straight; And that arm, now hanging lonely, Had, methinks, a mate.
And she was as finely dressed as Any doll in town.
Now she"s old, forlorn, and ragged, Poor Jemima Brown!
IV.
Yet be kind to her, my Alice; "Tis no fault of hers If her wilful little mistress Other dolls prefers.
Did _she_ pull her pretty hair out?
Did _she_ break her crown?
Did _she_ pull her arms and legs off, Poor Jemima Brown?
V.
Little hands that did the mischief, You must do your best Now to give the poor old dolly Comfortable rest.
So we"ll make the cradle ready, And we"ll lay her down; And we"ll ask Papa to mend her, Poor Jemima Brown!
ALICE"S SUPPER.
Far down in the meadow the wheat grows green, And the reapers are whetting their sickles so keen; And this is the song that I hear them sing, While cheery and loud their voices ring: ""Tis the finest wheat that ever did grow!
And it is for Alice"s supper, ho! ho!"
Far down in the valley the old mill stands, And the miller is rubbing his dusty white hands; And these are the words of the miller"s lay, As he watches the millstones a-grinding away: ""Tis the finest flour that money can buy, And it is for Alice"s supper, hi! hi!"
Downstairs in the kitchen the fire doth glow, And Maggie is kneading the soft white dough, And this is the song that she"s singing to-day, While merry and busy she"s working away: ""Tis the finest dough, by near or by far, And it is for Alice"s supper, ha! ha!"
And now to the nursery comes Nannie at last, And what in her hand is she bringing so fast?
"Tis a plate full of something all yellow and white, And she sings as she comes with her smile so bright: ""Tis the best bread-and-b.u.t.ter I ever did see!
And it is for Alice"s supper, he! he!"
TODDLEKINS.
b.u.t.terfly, Flutter by, Through the summer air; Roses bloom, Sweet perfume Shedding everywhere; Robins sing, Bluebells ring Greeting to my dear, When her sweet Tiny feet Bring her toddling here.
Pitapat!
Little fat Funny baby toes!
Do not stumble, Or she"ll tumble On her baby nose.
Closer cling, Little thing, To your mother"s side, Baby mine, Fair and fine, Mother"s joy and pride.
BOBBILY BOO AND WOLLYPOTUMP.
Bobbily Boo, the king so free, He used to drink the Mango tea.
Mango tea and coffee, too, He drank them both till his nose turned blue.
Wollypotump, the queen so high, She used to eat the Gumbo pie.
Gumbo pie and Gumbo cake, She ate them both till her teeth did break.
Bobbily Boo and Wollypotump, Each called the other a greedy frump.
And when these terrible words were said, They sat and cried till they both were dead.