Pounding Rice
POUND, pound,
Pound the rice,
The pestle goes up and down so nice,
Open the pot,
The fire is hot,
And if you don’t eat
I’ll feed
you rice.
Our Baby
MRS. Chang, Mrs. Lee,
Mama has a small baby;
Stands up firm,
Sits up straight,
Won’t eat milk,
But lives on cake.
Bean Sprouts
GOOD bean sprouts,
The water dropping out;
Where’s the wife that dares to drive her husband’s father out?
He’d take up a stick,
And hit her a lick,
And she could only shake her sleeve and run off quick.