The Real Mother Goose eBook

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

WEE WILLIE WINKIE

Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs, in his nightgown;
Rapping at the window, crying through the lock,
“Are the children in their beds?  Now it’s eight o’clock.”

ABOUT THE BUSH

About the bush, Willie,
    About the beehive,
About the bush, Willie,
    I’ll meet thee alive.

SEE-SAW

See-saw, Margery Daw,
Sold her bed and lay upon straw.

ROBIN-A-BOBBIN

Robin-a-Bobbin
Bent his bow,
Shot at a pigeon,
And killed a crow.

JOHN SMITH

Is John Smith within? 
Yes, that he is. 
Can he set a shoe? 
Ay, marry, two. 
Here a nail, there a nail,
Tick, tack, too.

SIMPLE SIMON

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;
All the water he could find
    Was in his mother’s pail!

Simple Simon went to look
    If plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much,
    Which made poor Simon whistle.

He went to catch a dicky bird,
    And thought he could not fail,
Because he had a little salt,
    To put upon its tail.

He went for water with a sieve,
    But soon it ran all through;
And now poor Simple Simon
    Bids you all adieu.

THREE BLIND MICE

Three blind mice!  See how they run! 
They all ran after the farmer’s wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife. 
Did you ever see such a thing in your life
As three blind mice?

FIVE TOES

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.”

A LITTLE MAN

There was a little man, and he had a little gun,
  And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;
He went to the brook, and saw a little duck,
  And shot it right through the head, head, head.

He carried it home to his old wife Joan,
  And bade her a fire to make, make, make. 
To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook,
  And he’d go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.

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