The Real Mother Goose eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 48 pages of information about The Real Mother Goose.

THE CLEVER HEN

I had a little hen, the prettiest ever seen,
She washed me the dishes and kept the house clean;
She went to the mill to fetch me some flour,
She brought it home in less than an hour;
She baked me my bread, she brewed me my ale,
She sat by the fire and told many a fine tale.

TWO BIRDS

There were two birds sat on a stone,
    Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;
One flew away, and then there was one,
    Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;
The other bird flew after,
And then there was none,
    Fa, la, la, la, lal, de;
And so the stone
Was left alone,
    Fa, la, la, la, lal, de.

LEG OVER LEG

Leg over leg,
As the dog went to Dover;
When he came to a stile,
Jump, he went over.

LUCY LOCKET

Lucy Locket lost her pocket,
Kitty Fisher found it;
Nothing in it, nothing in it,
But the binding round it.

WHEN JENNY WREN WAS YOUNG

’Twas once upon a time, when Jenny Wren was young,
So daintily she danced and so prettily she sung,
Robin Redbreast lost his heart, for he was a gallant bird. 
So he doffed his hat to Jenny Wren, requesting to be heard.

“Oh, dearest Jenny Wren, if you will but be mine,
You shall feed on cherry pie and drink new currant wine,
I’ll dress you like a goldfinch or any peacock gay,
So, dearest Jen, if you’ll be mine, let us appoint the day.”

Jenny blushed behind her fan and thus declared her mind: 
“Since, dearest Bob, I love you well, I’ll take your offer kind. 
Cherry pie is very nice and so is currant wine,
But I must wear my plain brown gown and never go too fine.”

BARBER

Barber, barber, shave a pig. 
How many hairs will make a wig? 
Four and twenty; that’s enough. 
Give the barber a pinch of snuff.

THE FLYING PIG

Dickory, dickory, dare,
The pig flew up in the air;
The man in brown soon brought
      him down,
          Dickory,
            dickory,
              dare.

SOLOMON GRUNDY

Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday. 
This is the end
Of Solomon Grundy.

HUSH-A-BYE

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.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Real Mother Goose from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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