An d when the ship began to move,
The captain said, Qua ck ! Quack !
Jack an d Jill went up t he hi ll , To fetch a pai l o f water ;
Jack fell down , an d br oke his crown ,
And Ji ll came tumbling aft er .
Li t tl e Bo - pe ep has l o st he r ‘ sheep,
And ca n ’ t te ll where to fin d them ;
Le ave them al one , an d they ’ 11 com e home ,
And bring thei r tai l s behind them .
Littl e Bo - peep fell fas t asl eep,
And dr eame d she heard them bl oating ;
But when she awoke , she found i t a joke ,
Fo r they wer e sti ll a- fl e e ti n g .
Then up she to ok he r littl e cr ook, Determined fo r to fin d them ;
She foun d them indeed, b ut i t made he r heart
bl eed,
Fo r they ’ d l e f t all thei r tai l s behin d ’ e m .
Littl e boy bl ue, come bl o w your hor n,
The sheep ’ s i n the meadow, t he co w ’ s i n the
corn
Wher e ’ s the li ttl e boy that tends the sheep
He ’ s under the haycock, fast asl eep .
GO wake him , go wake him. Oh, no, not I ;
Fo r if I awake him , he ’ ll certainly cry.
Litt le girl , littl e girl , wher e have yo u bee n
Gathering r oses to give to the qu een .
Littl e gir l , lit tl e gi rl , what ga ve she yo u
She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe .
Little Jack Horner sat in the cor ner ,
Eating a Chri s tma s pi e ;
He put in his thumb, an d he took o ut a pl um,
And said, What a good boy am I! ”
Littl e Johnny Pr i n gl e had a littl e pig;
I t w as very littl e, s o w as not very big.
As i t was pl aying beneath the shed, In half a minute poor Piggie was dead .
So Johnny Pringle he sat down an d cried, And Bet ty Pringl e she l ay down an d died .
Ther e is the history of one, t wo , a n d thr ee, Johnny Pringl e, Betty Pr ingl e, an d Piggi e
Wiggi e .
Littl e Miss Mui f e t
She sat on a t uffet,
Eati n g o f curds an d whe y ;
Ther e came a black spide r, And sat do wn beside he r , Which frighten ed Miss Mufiet
Ther e was a li ttl e man , And he had a little gun , his bul l ets wer e made of l e a d, l e ad, l ead ;
He went t o the br ook,
And he saw a littl e duck, shot i t thr ough the head, he ad, head.
He carried i t home
To his wife Joan, bade he r a fir e to make, make , make ,
To r oas t the litt l e duck,
He had shot in the br ook,
he ’ d go an d fetch the drake , dr ake ,
Li t tl e Tommy Tucke r
Sing fo r yo ur suppe r .
What shall I sing
White br ead an d butte r .
How shall I cut i t
Without an y kni fe