ut,
My little dame is not at home;
I'll saddle my goose and bridle my hen,
And fetch my little dame home again;
Home she came, tritty trot;
And asked for the porridge she left in the pot.

All in the Dumps

We're all in the dumps,
For diamonds are trumps;
The kittens are gone to St. Paul's!
The babies are bit,
The moon's in a fit,
And the houses are built without walls.

Hot Rolls

Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!
That the miller may grind his corn;
That the baker may take it,
And into rolls make it,
And send us some hot in the morn.
Rosemary green,
And lavender blue,
Thyme and sweet marjoram,
Hyssop and rue.

Bed Time

Come, let's to bed, says Sleepy-head
Tarry a while says Slow;
Put on the pot, says Greedy-Jock,
Let's sup before we go.

Go to Bed First

Go to bed first,
A golden purse;
Go to bed second,
A golden Pheasant;
Go to bed third,
A golden bird.

[Page 10--Girl Land]

[Illustration: The three Cry-Babies.]

Cry-Baby Belle

Cry-baby Belle
Is always in tears
Nothing you can give her can ease her!
Sugar and spice,
And everything nice,
Kisses and cakes will not please her.

She'll cry if she happens
To get a slight fall,
She'll cry if the naughty boys tease her;
She'll cry for a spoon,
And she'll cry for the moon;
So there's no use in trying to please her.

If the food set before her
Don't happen to suit--
Oh, then just as loud as she's able,
This cry-baby Belle
Will set up a yell,
And scare all the folks at the table.

If she wants to go out
In the street she will cry;
If she wants to come in how she screeches!
For nothing at all
She will set up and bawl,
Unmindful of comforting speeches,

She screams in the morning
Because she's not dress'd;
And at night when they want to undress her
More loudly she'll roar,
And roll over the floor
As if she had pains to distress her.

She cries when she's sick,
And she cries when she's well,
And often cries when she's sleeping,
So that heavy and red,
And most out of her head
Are her eyes, on account of such weeping.

She always is fretful,
Unhappy, and cross,
No matter what she may be doing,
And cry-baby Belle
Pleases nobody well
Because of her constant boo-hooi