Tom Tinker had a dog.

It said, “Bow-wow!”

Jack Sprat had a cat.

It said, “Meow! Meow!”

Betty Pringle had a pig.

It said, “Ough! Ough!”

The Little Red Hen

  had some chicks.

They said, “Peep! Peep!”

Tom Tinker said,

  “I had a dog

  And a dog loved me,

  And I fed my dog

  Under a hollow tree.

My dog went,

  ‘Bow-wow-wow!’ ”

Jack Sprat said,

  “I had a cat

  And a cat loved me,

  And I fed my cat

  Under a hollow tree.

My cat went,

  ‘Meow! Meow! Meow!’ ”

Betty Pringle said,

  “I had a pig

  And a pig loved me,

  And I fed my pig

  Under a hollow tree.

My pig went,

  ‘Ough! Ough! Ough!’ ”

The Little Red Hen said,

  “I had some chicks

  And my chicks loved me,

  And I fed my chicks

  Under a hollow tree.

My chicks went,

  ‘Peep! Peep! Peep!’ ”

  Daffy-Down-Dilly

Has come up to town,

In a yellow petticoat,

  And a green gown.

The Little Red Hen

 found some wheat.

    She called the cat.

    She called the dog.

    She called the pig.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Who will help me plant the wheat?”

    “Not I,” said the cat.

    “Not I,” said the dog.

    “Not I,” said the pig.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Then I will plant the wheat.”

     And she did.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Who will help me cut the wheat?”

    “Not I,” said the cat.

    “Not I,” said the dog.

    “Not I,” said the pig.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Then I will cut the wheat.”

    And she did.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Who will help me grind the wheat?”

    “Not I,” said the cat.

    “Not I,” said the dog.

    “Not I,” said the pig.

“Then I will grind the wheat,”

  said the Little Red Hen.

    And she did.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Who will help me make the bread?”

    “Not I,” said the cat.

    “Not I,” said the dog.

    “Not I,” said the pig.

“Then I will make the bread,”

  said the Little Red Hen.

    And she did.

“Who will help me bake the bread?”

  said the Little Red Hen.

    “Not I,” said the cat.

    “Not I,” said the dog.

    “Not I,” said the pig.

“Then I will bake it myself,”

  said the Little Red Hen.

    And she did.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “Who will help me eat the bread?”

    “Meow! Meow! Meow!”

    “I will,” said the cat.

    “Bow-wow-wow!”

    “I will,” said the dog.

    “Ough! Ough! Ough!”

    “I will,” said the pig.

The Little Red Hen said,

  “You would not plant the wheat.

  You would not cut the wheat.

  You would not grind the wheat.

  You would not make the bread.

  You shall not eat the bread.

My little chicks shall eat the bread.”

  And they did.

Jack and Jill

  Went up the hill,

To get a pail of water.

  Jack fell down

And broke his crown,

  And Jill came tumbling after.

“Who will help me

  set the table?”

    said Mother Goose.

“I will help you,” said Bo-Peep.

“I will help, too,” said Boy Blue.

“I will get the chairs,”

    said Jack Horner.

“Thank you, children,”

    said Mother Goose.

Jill called:

  “Mother Goose! Oh, Mother Goose!

    Please come to Jack.

    Please come with me.

  Jack and I had a pail of water.

  Jack tumbled down the hill.

    He broke his crown.

  Will you help him, Mother Goose?”

“I will come with you,”

              said Mother Goose.

When Mother Goose came back,

    the children ran to her.

“Did Jack and Jill come with you,

  Mother Goose?” said the children.

“Jack and Jill went back

        to get the pail of water.

They will come soon,”

                  said Mother Goose.

“Is the table set, Boy Blue?

Please get the bread,

                  Miss Muffet.

Please bring in the cake,

                  Jack Horner.”

“Here is a flower, Mother Goose.”

                          said Polly.

“I like to see a flower

                  on the table.”

“Thank you,” said Mother Goose.

Jack and Jill came in

    with the pail of water.

“Here is the water,” said Jack.

“I fell down and broke my crown.

Jill came tumbling after me.

The pail came tumbling down, too.

Mother Goose helped me up.

Jill and I went back

      to get the water.”

“Who will make the tea?”

    said Mother Goose.

“I will,” said Jack Horner.

“I will,” said Boy Blue.

“I will,” said Tom Tinker.

“No, I will make the tea,” said Polly.

      They all sang:

Polly, put the kettle on,

Polly, put the kettle on,

Polly, put the kettle on,

  We’ll all take tea.

Soon the kettle sang.

“Come to tea, come to tea,”

    called Polly.

“Oh, see the pretty flowers!

And the little cakes!

    Oh! Oh! Oh!”

  Mother Goose sat in the big chair.

After tea, Miss Muffet said,

    “Thank you, Mother Goose.”

All the children said,

    “Thank you,” and

Boy Blue said, “I would like

    to have a party, too.”

Hi, diddle, diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon.

The little dog laughed

To see such sport,

And the dish ran away

    with the spoon.

Pussy-Cat was fast asleep.

The moon looked in

    at the open door.

“Oh, ho!” she said,

    “I shall have some fun.

Jump up, Pussy-Cat, jump up.”

Pussy-Cat jumped up.

“Will you sing to me Pussy?”

    said the moon.

“Yes, I will sing if you

will play the fiddle,” said Pussy.

“I cannot play,” said the moon.

“Then I must,” said Pussy.

      “Hi, diddle, diddle,

      Hi, diddle, diddle,”

          she sang.

The moon laughed and laughed,

Pussy-Cat was so funny.

“Oh, look,” said the moon,

    “here comes the cow.”

“Can the cow sing?”

               said the moon.

  “Hi, diddle, diddle,

  Hi, diddle, diddle,”

      sang the cow,

  as she ran after the cat.

The cow ran up and down.

She jumped over a box.

She upset the table

    with the dish on it.

Then she saw the moon

    laughing at her.

“I shall jump over you, too,”

    said the cow,

    and over she went.

The dish jumped up

    and ran away with the spoon.

The little dog laughed so much

  that he could not run.

He laughed so much

  that he could not jump.

“Oh, what sport!”, he said.

“Yes,” said the moon,

  “You and I have fun

    when the children

      are fast asleep.”

Bow-wow-wow,

Whose dog art thou?

Little Tom Tinker’s dog,

  Bow-wow-wow.

Tom Tinker’s dog went up the hill.

A little pig came down the hill.

“Bow-wow-wow,” said the dog,

“Whose little pig are you?”

“I am Betty Pringle’s pig;

I am not very little.”

“You are not very big,”

      said the dog.

“I am as big as you are,”

      said the pig.

“Where are you going, little dog?”

“I am running away,”

      said Tom Tinker’s dog.

“Why are you running away?”

    said the pig.

“The children had a party.

I was not at it,

      so I am running away.”

“I shall run away, too,”

      said the pig.

And they ran away over the hill.

Little Betty Pringle,

She had a little pig,

It was not very little

  And not very big.

Little Betty Blue

Lost her holiday shoe.

What can little Betty do?

Give her another

To match the other,

And then she will walk in two.

“Mother Goose, may we go up the hill

      and get some flowers?”

        said Polly.

“Yes, Polly, I will come too,”

        said Mother Goose.

“I shall bring my dog,”

        said Tom Tinker.

Polly ran on to get the flowers.

She met Betty Blue.

“Oh Polly,” said Betty,

“I have lost my shoe.

Will you help me find it, Polly?”

“Yes, Betty, after I tell

  Mother Goose.”

“Betty lost her shoe, Mother Goose.

She had her holiday shoes on.

She lost one on the hill.

She has looked and looked,

  but she cannot find it.”

“Poor Betty!” said Mother Goose.

“Go and help her to find it.”

Boy Blue said,

  “Let us go up the hill

  and help Betty to find her shoe.”

“Come, Betty, take my hand.”

          March! March!

          Two by two,

          My little sister

          Lost her shoe.

“Come, Jack and Jill.

Come, Polly and Miss Muffet.

Come, Tom and Jack Horner.

Good-bye, Mother Goose.”

“Where can that shoe be?”

        said Miss Muffet.

“I have looked and looked.

I cannot find it.”

“Where can my dog be?”

        said Tom Tinker.

“I have looked and looked

  but I cannot see him.”

“Oh, Tom Tinker, Look! Look!”

        said Polly.

“Here comes your dog!”

Tom Tinker ran to meet him.

“Good little dog! Good little dog!”

        he said.

“Come to me, Come: Good dog!”

“Oh, Betty, Betty!” called Tom Tinker.

“My little dog has your shoe.

I will bring it to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Tom Tinker.”

  “Now I have another

  To match the other.”

The children ran to tell Mother Goose.

“I have found my shoe,”

        said Betty.

“And I have found my dog,”

        said Tom Tinker.

Little Bo-Peep

Has 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.

  “Where is Bo-Peep, children?”

          said Mother Goose.

“She went to bring the sheep home,”

          said Miss Muffet.

“Did she go alone?”

          said Mother Goose.

“Yes,” said the children;

“Shall we go to help her?”

The children ran to find Bo-Peep.

“There she is on the hill,”

          said Jack Horner.

“There are no sheep with her,”

          said Polly.

“She has not found them,”

          said Boy Blue.

“She sees us!

She is coming down!

Where are your sheep, Bo-Peep?”

“I cannot find them.

I have looked and looked.

Where can they be?

Oh, where can they be?”

“They are eating grass

  where we cannot see them,”

        said Boy Blue.

“Leave them alone,

  and they’ll come home.

Tom Tinker’s dog came home,”

        said Polly.

Bo-Peep and Polly went over the hill.

They came back with the sheep.

“I found them,” said Bo-Peep.

“They were coming home.”

Little Boy Blue, come,

  blow up your horn,

The sheep’s in the meadow,

  the cow’s in the corn;

But where is the little boy

  tending the sheep?

He’s under the haycock fast asleep.

  Boy Blue was blowing his horn.

  Farmer Brown called him and said,

“I am going to town. Will you

look after the cows and the sheep

until I come back?”

  “Oh yes,” said Boy Blue,

    “I will look after them.”

  “Keep the gate shut,”

        said Farmer Brown.

  “Oh yes,” said Boy Blue,

      “I will keep it shut.”

  The hay in the meadow

      looked good to eat.

“Baa! Baa! I do not like this grass.”

“I shall jump into the meadow

and eat hay,” said the sheep.

  The sheep jumped and jumped.

She did not get in.

  “Moo-oo,” said the cow.

“How green that corn looks.

I shall jump over and eat it.”

  The cow jumped and jumped.

She did not get in.

  Boy Blue went to play

in the meadow. He had great fun

tumbling in the hay.

  The day was very hot. Boy Blue

lay down beside a haycock

and soon was fast asleep.

  “Baa! Baa!” said the old sheep,

“Boy Blue has left the gate open.

Now I can get into the meadow.”

  “Moo-oo!,” said the cow. “Now

I can get into the cornfield.”

  Farmer Brown came home and

found the gate open.

He found the sheep in the meadow.

  He found the cow in the corn.

  He found Boy Blue fast asleep

under the haycock.

  Farmer Brown laughed.

“Boy Blue is asleep,” he said.

“He is too little to look after

                      the sheep.”

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet

Eating of curds and whey.

Along came a spider

And sat down beside her

And frightened Miss Muffet away.

  Boy Blue took Miss Muffet

for a walk.

  “Come and see the house

Farmer Brown built for the pigs,”

said Boy Blue.

  “I do not like pigs,”

          said Miss Muffet.

  In the meadow the cow looked at her

and said, “Moo-oo-oo.”

  Miss Muffet was frightened.

“I do not like cows,” said she.

  “What do you like?” said Boy Blue.

  “I like little chicks,” said she.

  Boy Blue and Miss Muffet

went to feed the hens. Miss Muffet

gave them some wheat.

  The old cock jumped up on a box

and crowed “Cock-a-doodle-doo.”

He frightened Miss Muffet so much

that she ran away.

  Mother Goose called them.

“Come children. Come to tea.”

  She gave Miss Muffet a dish

of curds and whey.

  Boy Blue did not like curds

and whey, so Mother Goose

gave him bread and milk.

  Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet,

and Boy Blue sat on a chair.

A spider came behind Miss Muffet.

It came up on the tuffet

beside her. She jumped up

and ran away.

  Mother Goose laughed

when Miss Muffet ran away

from the little spider.

  Boy Blue laughed, too, and said,

      “The cow frightened her.

      The pigs frightened her.

      The cock frightened her.

Now, the spider has frightened her.”

Mother Goose called,

“Come back, Miss Muffet,

You have frightened the spider

        away.”

There are roses

  that grow on a vine,

There are roses

  that grow on a tree,

But my little Rose

  grows on ten little toes,

And she is the rose for me.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G,

H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P,

Q, R, S, T, U, V,

W, X, Y, Z.

I have said my A, B, C.

a, b, c, d, e, f, g,

h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, p,

q, r, s, t, u, v,

w, x, y, z.

Land of our Birth,

  We pledge to thee

Our love and toil

  In the years to be;

When we are grown

  And take our place

As men and women

  With our race.

Once there was

    a little old woman and

    a little old man.

They lived in a little old house.

The little old woman made cakes

    in a little old pan

    in a little old oven.

She made a Gingerbread Boy

  and put it in the oven to bake.

When she opened the oven,

  out jumped the Gingerbread Boy

  and ran away down the road.

“Stop, stop, Little Gingerbread Boy,”

  said the little old man.

The Gingerbread Boy called back:

    “Run! Run! as fast as you can.

    You can’t catch me.

    I’m the Gingerbread Man.”

They ran after him,

    but they could not catch him.

The Gingerbread Boy ran on.

Soon he met a cat.

“Stop, Gingerbread Boy,”

                said the cat.

The Gingerbread Boy said,

  “I ran away

    from a little old woman

    and a little old man.

  I can run away from you,

    I can, I can.”

The cat ran after him.

The Gingerbread Boy called back,

    “Run! Run! as fast as you can!

    You can’t catch me,

    I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

The cat could not catch him.

The Gingerbread Boy ran on.

Soon he met a pig.

“Stop, Gingerbread Boy,”

                said the pig.

The Gingerbread Boy said,

  “I ran away

    from a little old woman,

    a little old man,

    and a big black cat.

  I can run away from you.”

The pig ran after him.

The Gingerbread Boy called back,

    “Run! Run! as fast as you can!

    You can’t catch me.

    I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

The pig could not catch him.

  The Gingerbread Boy ran on until

he met a dog.

  He called out to the dog,

  “I have run away

    from a little old woman,

    a little old man,

    a big black cat,

    and a little fat pig.

I can run away from you,

    I can, I can!

Run! Run! as fast as you can!

You can’t catch me,

I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

  “Oh, indeed!” said the dog.

“We will see about that.

You look good to eat.”

  The Gingerbread Boy ran

just as fast as he could.

  But the dog could run faster.

They came to a stream.

The Gingerbread Boy jumped in.

The dog jumped in after him.

The Gingerbread Boy could not swim.

“Get on my head,” said the dog.

The Gingerbread Boy got on his head.

“Get on my nose,” said the dog.

The Gingerbread Boy got on his nose.

Snap! went the dog’s teeth,

and that was the end

    of the Gingerbread Boy.

A little boy was dreaming

  Upon his mother’s lap,

That the pins fell out

        of all the stars,

  And the stars fell into his cap.

So when his dream was over,

  What did that little boy do?

He went and looked inside his cap,

  And found it was not true.

  Chicken Little was in the garden.

A leaf fell on her head.

  “What is that?” said Chicken

    Little.

She looked up and saw the blue sky.

  “I will go to tell the king

that the sky is falling.

A piece of it fell on my head.”

  Chicken Little ran down the road

until she met Henny Penny.

  “Where are you going?”

said Henny Penny.

  “I am going to tell the king

that the sky is falling,”

said Chicken Little.

  “I will go with you,”

said Henny Penny.

  They ran down the road

until they met Cocky Locky.

  “Where are you going?”

said Cocky Locky.

  “I am going to tell the king

that the sky is falling.”

  “I will go with you,”

said Cocky Locky.

  So they ran down the road

until they met Ducky Lucky.

  “Where are you going?”

said Ducky Lucky.

  “I am going to tell the king

that the sky is falling.

A piece of it fell on my head,”

said Chicken Little.

  “I will go with you,”

said Ducky Lucky.

  So they ran down the road

until they met Goosey Loosey.

  “Where are you going?”

said Goosey Loosey.

  “I am going to tell the king

that the sky is falling,”

said Chicken Little.

“A piece of it fell on my head.”

  So they ran down the road

until they met Turkey Lurkey.

  “Where are you going?”

said Turkey Lurkey.

  “I am going to tell the king

that the sky is falling,”

said Chicken Little.

  “I will go with you,”

said Turkey Lurkey.

  So they ran down the road

until they met Foxy Loxy.

  “Where are you going?”

said Foxy Loxy.

  “We are going to tell the king

that the sky is falling.

  A piece of it fell on my head,”

said Chicken Little.

  “Come with me,” said Foxy Loxy.

“I will take you to the king.”

  But they said, “Oh, no, Foxy Loxy,

we know you. We will not go

with you.”

  So they ran and ran, but they

never found the king’s house.

  And the king never knew

that the sky was falling.

What does the bee do?

  Bring home honey.

What does Father do?

  Bring home money.

What does Mother do?

  Lay out the money.

What does Baby do?

  Eat up the honey.

  A rose tree grew in the garden.

A lovely rose was on the tree.

  A bee came to the rose tree.

It saw the lovely rose. It wanted

some honey, so it went

into the rose to get it.

  A little boy came to the garden.

He saw the lovely rose, too.

  “I want that rose” he said,

so he broke it off. He did not see

the bee but he felt it.

  “The rose is hot,” he said

as he threw it on the ground.

“It burnt my hand,” and he ran home

to tell his mother.

Bees don’t care about the snow;

I can tell you why that’s so.

Once I caught a little bee

Who was much too warm for me.

There were three Billy Goats Gruff.

  There was Little Billy Goat Gruff.

  There was Middle Billy Goat Gruff.

  There was Big Billy Goat Gruff.

They liked to eat grass; the grass

  on the other side of the river

  was very green.

“Let us go over and eat grass,”

    said Little Billy Goat Gruff.

“You go first,” said the other goats.

Under the bridge lived a Troll.

If the sun shone on him,

              he would burst.

So he had to stay

              in the shade.

Little Billy Goat Gruff began

        to go over the bridge.

“Who is trip-tripping on my bridge?”

        said the Troll.

“I am,” said Little Billy Goat Gruff.

“Where are you going?”

“I am going over to eat grass.”

“No, you are not. I am going

  to eat you.”

“Oh, no! don’t eat me.

Eat Middle Billy Goat Gruff,

        he is much bigger.”

“Then be off,” said the Troll.

Middle Billy Goat Gruff came next.

“Trip, trap,” said the bridge.

“Who is trip-trapping on my bridge?”

        said the Troll.

“I am,” said Middle Billy Goat Gruff.

“Where are you going?”

“I am going over the bridge

        to eat grass.”

“No, you are not. I am going

  to eat you.”

“Oh, don’t eat me. Eat Big Billy Goat

  Gruff. He is bigger than I am.”

“Then be off,” said the Troll.

Big Billy Goat Gruff came next.

“Trip, trop, trip, trop,”

  said the bridge.

“Who is trip-tropping on my bridge?”

        said the Troll.

“I am,” said Big Billy Goat Gruff.

“Where are you going?”

“I am going over the bridge

        to eat grass.”

“No, you are not. I am coming out

    to eat you,” shouted the Troll.

Out he came. Big Billy Goat Gruff

    ran at him and knocked him

        heels over head.

The sun shone on him and——

        Pop! Bang! off he went,

  and that was the last of the Troll.

The three goats found all the grass

they could eat. They grew fat.

But they never went back

        to their old home.

Three little kittens

      lost their mittens,

And they began to cry,

      “Oh, Mother, dear,

      We very much fear,

      That we have lost our mittens.”

“What! lost your mittens!

You naughty kittens!

Then you shall have no pie.”

    “Meow, Meow, Meow.”

  “No, you shall have no pie.”

The three little kittens

      found their mittens,

And they began to cry,

    “Oh, Mother, dear,

    See here, see here!

  See! we have found our mittens.”

  “Put on your mittens,

  You silly kittens,

  And you may have some pie.”

  “Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r,

  Oh, let us have some pie.”

The three little kittens

        put on their mittens,

And soon ate up the pie;

      “Oh, Mother, dear,

      We greatly fear,

  That we have soiled our mittens.”

  “What! soiled your mittens!

  You naughty kittens!”

Then they began to sigh,

  “Meow, Meow, Meow.”

The three little kittens

        washed their mittens,

And hung them out to dry;

      “Oh, Mother, dear,

      Do you not hear,

  That we have washed our mittens?”

“What! washed your mittens!

Then you’re good kittens.

But I smell a rat close by.

Hush! Hush!”

      “Meow, Meow,

      We smell a rat close by,

      Meow, Meow, Meow.”

A jolly little fir tree sang

in the woods:

      “I want to be

      A Christmas tree.

      I want to be

      A Christmas tree.”

  The snow came down

in big white flakes.

The little tree looked very pretty.

  A man came to the wood

with an axe in his hand.

  “This will make

a good Christmas tree,” he said,

as he cut a tall one.

  The wind blew the little tree

and it sang:

      “O dear, O dear!

      I am too small.

      Will no one come

      For me at all?”

  Molly and her father came

for a tree. He said, “I like

this big one. Shall we take it?”

  “Oh no, Daddy, not that one,”

said Molly. “Take this little tree

with the snow on it.

Mother wants one for the table.

We must have this tree.”

  And all the time Molly’s father

was cutting it, the little tree sang:

      “I am to be

      A Christmas tree.

      I am to be

      A Christmas tree.”

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 cock

    that crowed in the morn,

    that waked 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.

  There was once a boy

who had three goats.

  All day long the three goats ran

and played in the meadow. At night

the boy drove them home.

  One night the frisky goats jumped

into a turnip field. The boy tried

to get them out, but he could not.

  Then he sat down and cried.

  A hare came along and asked,

  “Why do you cry?”

  “I cry because I cannot

get the goats out of the field,”

said the boy.

  “Let me try,” said the hare.

  So he tried, but the goats

would not come out.

  Then the hare, too, sat down

and cried.

  Along came a fox.

  “Why do you cry?” asked the fox.

  “I am crying because the boy cries,”

said the hare.

  “The boy cries because he cannot

get the goats out of the field.”

  “Let me try,” said the fox.

  So the fox tried to get them out

of the field. But the goats

would not come out.

  Then the fox, too, began to cry.

  Soon after a wolf came along.

  “Why do you cry?” asked the wolf.

  “I cry because the hare cries,”

said the fox.

  “The hare cries because the boy

cries.”

  “The boy cries because he cannot

get the goats out of the field.”

  “Let me try,” said the wolf.

  He tried, but the goats

would not come out of the field.

  So he sat down with the others

and began to cry, too.

  After a little, a bee flew over

and saw them all crying.

  “Why do you cry?” said the bee

to the wolf.

  “I am crying because the fox cries.

The fox cries because the hare cries.

The hare cries because the boy cries.

The boy cries because he cannot

get the goats out of the field.”

  “I’ll do it,” said the bee.

  Then the big animals and the boy

stopped crying a moment

to laugh at the tiny bee.

  But the bee flew into the field

and lit upon the big goat.

  She stung him on his ears.

  She stung him on his legs.

  She stung him on his tail.

“Baa-baa-baa!” cried the big goat

and away he ran out of the field,

and all the goats ran after him.

Little Wind blow on the hill-top,

Little Wind blow on the plain,

Little Wind blow up the sunshine,

Little Wind blow off the rain.

  Once there was a great big bear,

a middle-sized bear, and a wee bear.

  These bears lived in a house

in the woods.

  The great big bear was Father Bear.

The middle-sized bear was

Mother Bear.

The wee wee bear was Baby Bear.

  One day Mother Bear made soup

for dinner—three bowls of soup;

a big black bowl for Father Bear,

a small white bowl for Mother Bear,

a little blue bowl for Baby Bear.

  Then the three bears went out

for a short morning walk.

They did not see a little girl

playing near their house.

  She did not see the bears,

but she saw the little house.

She came slowly over to the door.

  “What a dear wee house!” she said.

“I shall see who lives here.”

  Silverlocks knocked. No one came.

She lifted the latch and went in.

She saw the bowls of soup.

  She tasted Father Bear’s soup.

It was very hot with pepper.

  She tasted Mother Bear’s soup.

It was too salty.

  She tasted Baby Bear’s soup.

It was just right and had bread in it.

  She saw three chairs in the house—

a big oak chair for Father Bear,

a rocking chair for Mother Bear,

a wee cane chair for Baby Bear.

  She sat in the big chair.

It was too hard.

  She sat in the rocking chair.

It was too high.

  She sat in the cane chair.

It was just right.

  She ate all of Baby Bear’s soup.

  As she stood on the chair

to put the bowl on the table,

the bottom fell out of the chair.

  She went upstairs.

She saw three beds there—

a great big bed for Father Bear,

a middle-sized bed for Mother Bear,

a wee wee bed for Baby Bear.

  She tried each bed.

The great big bed was too hard.

The middle-sized bed was too soft.

The wee wee bed was just right,

and she was soon asleep in it.

  “The soup will be cool now,”

said Mother Bear.

  “Let us go home,” said Father Bear.

  “I am so hungry,” said Baby Bear.

    The three bears came home.

    They looked at their soup.

  Father Bear had a great big voice.

“Who has been tasting my soup?”

he growled.

  Mother Bear, in a middle-sized

voice, said,

“Who has been tasting my soup?”

  Baby Bear had a wee wee voice.

“Who has eaten all my soup?”

he cried.

  “Who has been sitting in my chair?”

growled Father Bear.

  “Who has been sitting in my chair?”

said Mother Bear.

  “Who has been sitting in my chair

and has broken it?” cried Baby Bear.

  Then they rushed upstairs.

  “Who has been lying in my bed?”

growled Father Bear.

  “Who has been lying in my bed?”

said Mother Bear.

  “Who has been lying in my bed?

Oh, here she is; oh, here she is!”

cried Baby Bear.

  Silverlocks awoke.

  She slid off the bed.

  She jumped out of the open window.

  She flew away home

as fast as she could.

  Now, she does not meddle

with things that do not belong to her.

When I was down beside the sea

A wooden spade they gave to me

  To dig the sandy shore.

My holes were empty like a cup.

In every hole the sea came up,

  Till it could come no more.

  Mother took Bobby and Betty

to the seashore to play.

  They each had a pail

and a wooden spade.

  “I shall build a house,”

said Bobby, and he began

to pile up sand with his spade.

Then he found a little piece

of wood and cut the wet sand

to make the walls look right.

  Betty was digging holes

near the water.

“Oh! Oh!” she cried, “the water

splashed right up in my eyes.”

  Bobby ran to her.

“I think it was a clam,” he said.

“Let me dig for it.”

  Bobby dug and dug. “Here he is,”

he said, “the naughty little clam

that threw water in your eyes.”

  Then both children dug for clams.

They dug a great many holes, but

they did not find another clam.

  “Come and see my house,”

said Bobby.

  “That is a funny looking house,

Bobby. It is so high. I never

saw a house like that.”

  “Yes, Betty, we saw one

when we went up the coast

with Daddy in the big boat.

It was white and it was

on a big rock.”

  “I know! I know!” cried Betty.

“It was a lighthouse. Yours looks

like that one. Let us ask Mother

to stay till dark and

we’ll put a light in it.”

  The children ran to tell her

about the lighthouse

and to ask her to stay.

  “We will stay a little longer,”

she said. “The tide is coming in;

do you wish to wade?”

  “Oh yes,” they both said,

and off came their shoes.

  “Stay near the shore, children,

and don’t get your clothes wet,”

said Mother.

  They had great fun

wading in the sea.

  “See the little boats,” said Betty.

“I want to ride in a boat.”

  “Would you like the red one Betty?

I will wade out and get it.”

  This made Betty laugh.

“I can wade out too,” she said.

  Just then a little crab

took a nibble at Betty’s toe.

  There was a cry, a splash,

and then Betty stood up, dripping.

  Mother came running. “Oh Mother,

I did not mean to fall,” said Betty.

  Mother took off the wet clothes

and put her coat round Betty.

  “Lie down on the warm sand

and I will pile it on you,”

said Bobby.

  When the clothes were dry,

they took Mother to see

Bobby’s lighthouse.

  They found the water

coming up very fast.

The spades were afloat,

and Bobby had to run

into the water to get the pails.

  Then a great high wave came

and, as it went back,

it took the lighthouse with it.

  “Another great loss at sea!”

said Mother, “A lighthouse

swept away.”

  An old hen sat on some eggs.

  Three round fluffy chickens came

out. They had bright black eyes.

  The next chick was a little one.

He had only one eye, one wing, and

one leg. So his mother called him

little “Half-chick.”

  Little Half-chick was very quick.

He would hoppety-kick across the

yard as fast as the other chicks ran.

  One day he said, “I am tired

of living in this yard. I am going

to Madrid to see the King.”

  “No! no!” said his mother, “You

are too young to go alone so far.”

  “I shall go to Madrid,” said the

little Half-chick; “I shall go to-day,”

and off he went hoppety-kick.

  Little Half-chick came to a stream.

The water had grass and weeds in it.

It could not run.

  “Please help me, little Half-chick,”

said the stream. “The weeds will not

let me run.”

  “I have no time to help you,” said

little Half-chick. “I am going

to Madrid to see the King.”

  Hoppety-kick, hoppety-kick, went

little Half-chick along the road.

  He came to a fire that was almost

out.

  “Please stop and help me, little

Half-chick,” said the fire. “I am

almost gone. Fan me with your wing.”

  “I have no time to help you,” said

little Half-chick. “I am going

to Madrid to see the King.”

  Hoppety-kick, hoppety-kick, went

little Half-chick along the road.

  He came to a large pine tree.

It had many leaves.

The wind was caught in the leaves.

  “Please help me,” said the wind.

“I cannot get free. I cannot blow.”

  “I have no time to help you,” said

little Half-chick. “I am going

to Madrid to see the King. I begin

to see houses,” and hoppety-kick,

on went the little Half-chick.

  Then he came to the King’s house.

As he went past the house, the cook

saw him. “That is just what I want

for the King’s dinner—chicken soup,”

she said.

  She caught Half-chick and put him

in a pot of water over the fire.

  “O, Water, please help me; do not

drown me,” said the little Half-chick.

  “When I was in trouble with

the weeds you did not help me,”

said the water.

  The water began to boil.

  “O, Fire, do not make the water

boil so fast,” said the little Half-chick.

“It burns me.”

  “Once when I was almost dead,

you did not help me,” said the fire.

  Just then the cook took the lid off

the pot. “This chicken is no good,”

she said, and threw it out

of the window.

  The wind caught the Half-chick

and tossed him up into the air.

  “O, Wind, please do not blow me

round so fast,” said Little Half-chick.

  “When I was caught in the leaves

of the tree and could not get free,

you did not help me,” said the wind.

  The wind blew faster and faster.

  Up, up, up, went the little Half-chick

to the top of the roof.

  There he is to-day, turning round

and round when the wind blows.

  Once there were three little pigs.

Their mother said one morning,

    “You must go out

    And make your own houses.”

Next day they all went out.

  A man came along the road

with a load of hay.

  “Please, Man, give me some hay.

I want to make a house,”

said the first pig. So the man

gave him the hay.

  The pig made his house and

when night came, he went to bed.

  By and by a wolf came and

knocked at the door and said,

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.”

  “No, no, by the hair of my chinny,

chin, chin,” said the pig, “I won’t

let you in.”

  “If you don’t let me in,

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll

blow your house in,” said the wolf.

  The pig did not let him in.

  Then he huffed and he puffed

and he blew the house in

and ate up the poor little pig.

  The second pig met a man

with a load of wood.

  “Please, Man, give me some wood.

I want to make a house.”

The man gave him the wood.

  The pig made a house of wood and,

when night came, he went to bed.

  Again the wolf came and knocked

at the door and said, “Little pig,

little pig, let me in.”

  “No, no, by the hair of my chinny,

chin, chin,” said the pig, “I won’t

let you in.”

  “If you don’t let me in,

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll

blow your house in,” said the wolf.

  Then he huffed and puffed

and he blew the house in

and ate up the poor little pig.

  The third pig met a man

with a load of bricks.

  He said, “Please, Man, give me

some bricks to make a house.”

The man gave him the bricks.

  The pig made a strong brick house

and, when night came, he went to bed.

  By and by the wolf came and

knocked at the door and said,

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.”

  “No, no, by the hair of my chinny,

chin, chin,” said the pig, “I won’t

let you in.”

  “If you don’t let me in,

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll

blow your house in.”

  Then he huffed and he puffed,

and he puffed and he huffed, but

he did not blow the house in.

  Then the wolf said, “Little pig,

I know where there are nice apples.

Come with me and I will show you.

Be ready at five o’clock

to-morrow morning.”

  “Yes,” said the pig, “I’ll be ready.”

But he got up at four o’clock

and went for the apples.

He filled his basket.

  The wolf came at five o’clock.

He said, “Are you ready, little pig?”

  “I found the apple tree,”

said the little pig.

“I got a big basket of apples.”

  The wolf was very angry and growled

“I’ll eat you yet. I’ll go up

on the roof and come down

the chimney and eat you.”

  Now the pig had a big pot

of hot water on the fire.

  When the wolf began

to come down the chimney,

the pig took the lid off the pot.

  Down came the wolf “Splash”

into the big pot of hot water.

  And that was the end

      of the big, bad wolf.

      Sleep, baby, sleep!

  Thy father’s watching the sheep,

Thy mother’s shaking the dreamland tree,

And down drops a little dream for thee.

      Sleep, baby, sleep.

      Sleep, baby, sleep!

  The large stars are the sheep;

The little stars are the lambs, I guess,

The bright moon is the shepherdess.

      Sleep, baby, sleep.

  A little boy and his mother lived

in a little house on an old farm.

  A little stream of water ran

across the farm. Little trees and

bushes grew beside the stream.

  One summer day the little boy

went out of the little house

to take a little walk.

  He opened the gate and went out

into the fields.

  When he came to the little stream,

he sat down by it to rest

under the shade of a little tree.

  As he looked up into the tree,

he saw a little bird on its nest.

The little bird was afraid

and flew away.

  “Now,” said the boy, “I will peep

into that nest, just one peep.”

He did and saw three blue eggs

in it. They were very pretty eggs.

He said, “I’ll take one, just one.

The bird will not miss it.”

  He took the egg home and put it

in a little box in the window.

He did not tell his mother.

  He was tired and lay down

upon his bed. He fell asleep.

  Was he dreaming? He heard a tap

on the window, and a voice said,

“Bring back my little blue egg.”

  He was ashamed and hid his head

under the clothes. He fell asleep.

  Again he heard a tap on the window,

but louder, and the voice said,

“Bring back my little blue egg.”

  He was more ashamed and hid his

head farther under the clothes.

Again he fell asleep.

  Once more he heard the tap, tap,

on the window. The voice seemed

very loud as it said,

          “BRING BACK

      MY LITTLE BLUE EGG”

  The little boy was so ashamed

that he jumped out of the bed,

took the egg and ran, as fast

as he could, to the tree.

  The bird was sitting on the nest,

She flew up and lit on a limb.

  The boy put the egg in the nest.

He said, “Here is your little egg.

I am very, very sorry I took it.

I am ashamed.”

  The bird said, “Peep! Peep! Peep!”

A snowdrop lay in the sweet, dark

                ground,

“Come out,” said the Sun, “come out.”

But she lay quite still and she

        heard no sound;

“Asleep,” said the Sun, “no doubt.”

The snowdrop heard, for she raised

        her head,

“Look spry,” said the Sun, “look

        spry!”

“It’s warm,” said the Snowdrop, “here

        in bed.”

“Oh, fie!” said the sun, “oh, fie!”

“You call too soon, Mr. Sun, you do!”

“No, no,” said the Sun, “oh, no!”

“There’s something above and I can’t

        see through.”

“It’s snow,” said the Sun, “just snow.”

“But I say, Mr. Sun, are the Robins

        here?”

“Maybe,” said the Sun, “maybe.”

“There wasn’t a bird when you called

        last year.”

“Come out,” said the Sun, “and see.”

The Snowdrop sighed, for she liked

        her nap,

And there wasn’t a bird in sight,

But she popped out of bed in her

        white night-cap;

“That’s right,” said the Sun, “that’s

        right!”

And, soon as that small night-cap

        was seen,

A Robin began to sing,

The air grew warm, and the grass

        turned green.

“ ’Tis Spring!” laughed the Sun,

        “ ’tis Spring!”