Little Polly Flinders
Little Polly Flinders
Sat among the cinders
Warming her pretty little toes.
Her mother came and caught her
And smacked her little daughter
For spoiling her nice new clothes.
The North Wind Does Blow
The North Wind does blow
And we shall have snow;
And what will the Robin do then, poor thing?
He’ll sit in the barn
To keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!