Rhymes: * * *...

Rhymes: *...

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Now what will pretty Polly do For milk and cream and butter too?

I WENT TO TOWN ON MONDAY

I went to town on Monday To buy myself a coat, But on the way I met a man Who traveled with a caravan, And bought a billy-goat.

I went to town on Tuesday And bought a fancy vest. I kept the pretty bucklestraps, Buttonholes and pocketflaps, And threw away the rest.

I went to town on Thursday To buy a loaf of bread, But when I got there, goodness sakes! The town was full of rattlesnakes-- The bakers all were dead.

I went to town on Saturday To get myself a wife, But when I saw the lady fair I gnashed my teeth and pulled my hair And scampered for my life.

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

Where are you going, sister Kate? I'm going to swing on the garden gate, And watch the fairy gypsies dance Their tim-tam-tum on the cabbage-plants-- The great big one with the purple nose, And the tiny tad with the pinky toes.

Where are you going, brother Ben? I'm going to build a tiger-pen. I'll get iron and steel and 'lectric wire And build it a hundred feet, or higher, And put ten tigers in it too, And a big wildcat, and--mebbe--you.

Where are you going, mother mine? I'm going to sit by the old grapevine, And watch the gliding swallow bring Clay for her nest from the meadow spring-- Clay and straw and a bit of thread To weave it into a baby's bed.

Where are you going, grandma dear? I'm going, love, where the skies are clear, And the light winds lift the poppy flowers And gather clouds for the summer showers, Where the old folks and the children play On the warm hillside through the livelong day.

CHRISTOPHER CRUMP

Christopher Crump, All in a lump, Sits like a toad on the top of a stump. He stretches and sighs, And blinks with his eyes, Bats at the beetles and fights off the flies.

PINKY, PINKY, PANG

A tortoise sat on a slippery limb And played his pinky pang For a dog-fish friend that called on him, And this is what he sang: "Oh, the skies are blue, And I wait for you To come where the willows hang, And dance all night By the white moonlight To my pinky, pinky, pang!"

Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Forty 'leven by the clock. Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Put your ear to Grandpa's ticker, Like a pancake, only thicker. Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Catch a squirrel in half a minute, Grab a sack and stick him in it. Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Mister Bunny feeds on honey, Tea, and taters--ain't it funny? Tick, tock! Tick, tock! When he goes to bed at night, Shoves his slippers out of sight; That is why Old Fox, the sinner, Had to go without his dinner. Tick, tock! Tick, tock! So says Grandpa's clock.

UNDER THE WILLOW

Put down your pillow under the willow, Hang up your hat in the sun, And lie down to snooze as long as you choose, For the plowing and sowing are done.

Pick up your pillow from under the willow, And clamber out into the sun. Get a fork and a rake for goodness' sake, For the harvest time has begun.

HIGH ON THE MANTEL

High on the mantel rose a moan-- It came from an idol carved in bone-- "Oh, it's so lonesome here alone, With no one near to love me!"

A cautious smile came over the face Of a pensive maid on a Grecian vase "Are you sure," she said, with charming grace, "There's no one near to love you?"

BOOTS, BOOTS, BOOTS

Buster's got a popper gun, A reg'lar one that shoots, And Teddy's got an engine With a whistler that toots. But I've got something finer yet-- A pair of rubber boots. Oh, it's boots, boots, boots, A pair of rubber boots! I could walk from here to China In a pair of rubber boots.

Butterfly, butterfly, Sit on my chin, Your wings are like tinsel, So yellow and thin.

Butterfly, butterfly, Give me a kiss; If you give me a dozen There's nothing amiss.

Butterfly, butterfly, Off to the flowers,-- Wee, soulless sprite Of the long summer hours.

BEELA BY THE SEA

Catch a floater, catch an eel, Catch a lazy whale, Catch an oyster by the heel And put him in a pail.

There's lots of work for Uncle Ike, Fatty Ford and me All day long and half the night At Beela by the sea.

A MATTER OF TASTE

"Thank you, dear," said the big black ant, "I'd like to go home with you now, but I can't. I have to hurry and milk my cows-- The aphid herds on the aster boughs." And the ladybug said: "No doubt it's fine, This milk you get from your curious kine, But you know quite well it's my belief Your cows are best when turned to beef."

"Tommy, my son," said the old tabby cat, "Go catch us some mice, and be sure that they're fat. There's one family lives in the carpenter's barn; They've made them a nest of the old lady's yarn. But the carpenter has a young cat of his own That is healthy and proud and almost full grown, And consider it, son, an eternal disgrace To come home at night with a scratch on your face."

OH, SAID THE WORM

"Oh," said the worm, "I'm awfully tired of sitting in the trees; I want to be a butterfly And chase the bumblebees."