The Little Boy
THE little boy,
He bought some oil,
But fell and spilled it
On the soil.
His mother said:
You careless lad,
I’ll box your ears,
Because
you’re
bad.
The Magician
BIG, dead snake is lying there,
It has no ears and it has no hair;
I breathe on it some magic air,
And it
lives
and is
running
everywhere.
Ride a Cock Horse
UP you go,
Down you see,
Granny’s come
To pour the tea;
The tea is sweet,
The wine is too;
There are eighteen camels
With clothes for you,
The clothes are heavy,
And the dragon-fly
Has spurted water
On your ankle-tie.
Sister, sister,
Stop your fuss,
To-morrow the cart
Will come for us;
What cart, you ask,
The cart, of course,
With large, red wheels,
And a big, white horse;
And in it a beautiful girl, I note,
With a squirrel cloak and an otter coat,
Her betel-nut bag is a needle-worked charm,
And the stem of her pipe is as long as your arm.