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axe to reap barn gillie berries bite kid bonnie bush burn staff butter to feet cat to hunt cloth gilt Coloured Plates Cow the nettle deer to swim dog to run eating my share fcap feet of dog fell ox frog gae sing gilt edges GUNPOWDER PLOT Home Chat Humble-dum hunt mouse keep my house kneading wife lay on Meenachug little boy Little Folks little Indian lolly MOORACHUG AND MEENACHUG mouse to scrape ower Pictures pull my bonnie put out fire reap rod Richard to John Robin to Bobbin Robinson Crusoe rod to lay run deer says John says Richard says Robin scrape butter share of fruit smooth axe Song of Numbers stone to smooth Stories strike dog swim water Taffy thee thou gettest Thou wilt THREE WISE MEN thy news to-day Twas a sign Tweed Voorachai water to wet wean wet stone What's thy
Page 32 - I'll tell thee, Little Lamb, I'll tell thee, He is called by thy name, For he calls himself a Lamb.
Page 72 - Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
Page 64 - FOR every evil under the sun, There is a remedy, or there is none. If there be one, try and find it; If there be none, never mind it.
Page 38 - Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them; Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.
Page 62 - I saw a peacock with a fiery tail, I saw a blazing comet...
Page 59 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me : — ' Pipe a song about a lamb : ' So I piped with merry cheer. ' Piper, pipe that song again : ' So I piped ; he wept to hear.
Page 51 - The Blossom MERRY Merry Sparrow, Under leaves so green, A happy Blossom Sees you swift as arrow Seek your cradle narrow Near my Bosom. Pretty Pretty Robin, Under leaves so green, A happy Blossom Hears you sobbing, sobbing, Pretty Pretty Robin Near my Bosom. The Chimney Sweeper WHEN my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry ' weep, weep, weep, weep,' So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.
Page 9 - The Queen of Hearts She made some tarts, All on a summer's day; The Knave of Hearts He stole those tarts, And took them clean away. The King of Hearts Called for the tarts, And beat the Knave full sore; The Knave of Hearts Brought back the tarts, And vowed he'd steal no more.