The Real Mother Goose eBook

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

THE HOBBY-HORSE

I had a little hobby-horse,
    And it was dapple gray;
Its head was made of pea-straw,
    Its tail was made of hay.

I sold it to an old woman
    For a copper groat;
And I’ll not sing my song again
    Without another coat.

THE MULBERRY BUSH

Here we go round the mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush,
Here we go round the mulberry bush. 
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we wash our hands,
Wash our hands, wash our hands,
This is the way we wash our hands,
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we wash our clothes. 
Wash our clothes, wash our clothes,
This is the way we wash our clothes,
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we go to school,
Go to school, go to school,
This is the way we go to school,
On a cold and frosty morning.

This is the way we come out of school,
Come out of school, come out of school,
This is the way we come out of school,
On a cold and frosty morning.

YOUNG LAMBS TO SELL

If I’d as much money as I could tell,
I never would cry young lambs to sell;
Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell;
I never would cry young lambs to sell.

BOY AND THE SPARROW

A little cock-sparrow sat on a green tree,
And he chirruped, he chirruped, so merry was he;
A naughty boy came with his wee bow and arrow,
Determined to shoot this little cock-sparrow.

“This little cock-sparrow shall make me a stew,
And his giblets shall make me a little pie, too.” 
“Oh, no,” says the sparrow “I won’t make a stew.” 
So he flapped his wings and away he flew.

OLD WOMAN, OLD WOMAN

There was an old woman tossed in a basket,
  Seventeen times as high as the moon;
But where she was going no mortal could tell,
  For under her arm she carried a broom.

“Old woman, old woman, old woman,” said I,
  “Whither, oh whither, oh whither so high?”
“To sweep the cobwebs from the sky;
  And I’ll be with you by-and-by.”

THE FIRST OF MAY

The fair maid who, the first of May,
Goes to the fields at break of day,
And washes in dew from the hawthorn-tree,
Will ever after handsome be.

SULKY SUE

Here’s Sulky Sue,
What shall we do? 
Turn her face to the wall
Till she comes to.

THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

This is the house that Jack built. 
This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

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