Aunt Kitty's Stories Part 6

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I had a little hen, the prettiest ever seen, She washed me the dishes, and kept the house clean: She went to the mill to fetch me some flour, She brought it home in less than an hour, She baked me my bread, she brewed me my ale, She sat by the fire, and told many a fine tale.

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Ride a c.o.c.k horse To Ban-bu-ry Cross, To see lit-tle Jen-ny Up-on a white horse.

Rings on her fin-gers, Bells on her toes, She shall have mu-sic Wher-ever she goes.

Pus-sy cat ate the dump-lings, the dump-lings; Pus-sy cat ate the dump-lings.

Mam-ma stood by, and cried, "Oh, fie!

Why did you eat the dump-lings?"

I have a lit-tle sister; they call her Peep, Peep.

She wades the wa-ter, deep, deep, deep; She climbs the moun-tains, high, high, high.

Poor lit-tle thing! she has but one eye.

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1. This lit-tle pig went to mar-ket.

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2. This lit-tle pig stay-ed at home.

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3. This lit-tle pig got roast beef.

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4. This lit-tle pig got none.

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5. This lit-tle pig cried wee, wee, all the way home.

One misty, moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, I chanced to meet an old man clothed all in leather.

He began to compliment, and I began to grin, How do you do, and how do you do?

And how do you do again?

Father Short came down the lane, Oh! I'm obliged to hammer and smite From four in the morning till eight at night, For a bad master and a worse dame.

There was an old woman had three sons, Jeffery, Jemmy and John; Jeffery was hung, and Jemmy was drowned, And Johnny was never more found: So there was an end to these three sons, Jeffery, Jemmy and John.

Hink, minx! the old witch winks, The fat begins to fry: There's n.o.body at home but jumping Joan, Father, mother, and I.

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CLIMBING ON BACKS OF CHAIRS.

What, climb on the back of a chair!

O Henry, how can you do so?

Sometime, if you do not take care, You will get a most terrible throw.

Suppose grand-mama had got up, Pray what had become of you then?

Indeed, my dear Henry, I hope You never will do so again.

Your poor little teeth may be broke, Or your face get some terrible bruise, Indeed, and indeed, 'tis no joke, And you must not do just as you choose.

For suppose there's no danger at all, 'Tis your duty to mind what I say; So I'll punish you, Henry, next time, You _dare_ my commands disobey.

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THE SQUIRREL.