Now this is the tale Columbus told, And most of the tale is true, How he crossed the seas, a sailor bold, In fourteen-ninety-two.
Haven't you heard of Terrible Tim! Well, don't you get in the way of him. He eats lions for breakfast And leopards for lunch, And gobbles them down With one terrible crunch. He could mix a whole city All up in a mess, He could drink up a sea Or an ocean, I guess. You'd better be watching for Terrible Tim, And run when you first get your peepers on him.
"What's the use," Said the goose, "To swim like a frog, When you go just as far If you float on a log?"
"Why should I," Said the fly, "Suck an old apple-core, When there's sugar and fruit In the grocery store?"
"It's but right," Said the kite, "That I follow the wind. What's a fellow to do If he hasn't a mind?"
"You'll allow," Said the cow, "That I'm really no thief, When I turn all the clover I steal, into beef."
"Come again," Said the hen, "On some other fine day. Don't think 'cause I cackle I always must lay."
ALL ABOARD FOR BOMBAY
All aboard for Bombay, All aboard for Rome! Leave your little sisters And your loving aunts at home.
Bring a bit of bailing wire, A pocketful of nails, And half a dozen wiener-wursts For every man that sails.
Tell Terry Tagg, when you go by, Be sure to bring his dog. All aboard for Bombay On a floating cedar log!
There's water in the rain barrel, And water in the well, There's lots of water in the pond Where Hannah Hawkins fell.
There's water in the ocean, And water in the skies, And when a fellow blubbers He gets water in his eyes.
But in the Barca desert Where the hippodoodles play, The water in the rivers Just dries up and blows away.
OLD MOLLY IS LOWING
Old Molly is lowing and lowing 'Way down in the old meadow lot. I've given her water and clover, And all of the apples I've got; But she won't eat a thing that I give her, And never drinks even a sup, For they've taken her baby to market And some one has eaten it up. I'd just like to go to the city And cut them all up into halves And feed them to sharks and to lions-- Those people that eat little calves.
The snowflakes are falling by ones and by twos; There's snow on my jacket, and snow on my shoes; There's snow on the bushes, and snow on the trees-- It's snowing on everything now, if you please.
DIPPY-DIPPY-DAVY
Dippy-Dippy-Davy, Half the Royal Navy In the dampness and the dark Was driving off a savage shark To Dippy-Dippy-Davy.
WHEN I'M AS RICH AS UNCLE CLAUS
When I'm as rich as Uncle Claus, With whiskers on my chin, I'm going to have a great big house To put my people in.
I'll never let them wander out Or ride with me to town; They'll come a-running when I shout And tremble when I frown.
I'll have some men in soldier tents, A pirate and his mate, And wildcats all around the fence, And mad dogs on the gate.
Rinky-tattle, rinky-tattle, Rinky-tattle--who? Little Tommy Taylor Is a rinky-tattle too.
TWENTY LITTLE SNOWFLAKES
Twenty little snowflakes climbing up a wire. "Now, listen," said their mother, "don't you climb up any higher. The sun will surely catch you, and scorch you with his fire." But the naughty little snowflakes didn't mind a word she said, Each tried to clamber faster than his fellow just ahead; They thought that they'd be back in time enough to go to bed. But they found out that their mother wasn't quite the dunce they thought her, The sun bobbed up--remember this, my little son and daughter-- And turned those twenty snowflakes into twenty drops of water.
Slippery Slim, a garter snake, Leaned against a garden rake And smiled a sentimental smile At Tilly Toad, on the gravel pile, Till that bashful miss was forced to hop And hide her face in a carrot-top.
Through fog and rain I run my train Wherever the track is laid, And over the road I carry a load Whenever the freight is paid.
A kaddy of tea For Genessee, For Troy an empty crate, A man in brown For Uniontown To help them celebrate.
No one at home in the hen-house, And no one at home in the barn, Old Brindle has gone to the neighbor's To borrow a skein of brown yarn, To borrow yarn for the darning Of socks for her wee spotted calf--
The little rollicking rascal Has never enough by half. And Speckle is down by the willow Washing her chicks in the lake, While old Daddy Cockle is lying Abed with a bad toothache.
PATTERS AND TATTERS
Patters had a gallant band, An army made of clay. But Tatters took the garden hose And washed them all away.
CROWN THE KING WITH CARROT TOPS
Crown the king with carrot tops, Dress him in sateen, Give him lots of licorice drops, With suckers in between.
For he's a king with lots of power And awful, awful fierce, He kills a pirate every hour And washes in his tears.
He rides a charger ten feet high, A dashing, dappled gray; Has ginger pop and lemon pie For breakfast every day.
