The Nursery Rhymes of England Part 6

Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed; but he could _not_ get the house down. When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he said, "Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips." "Where?" said the little pig. "Oh, in Mr. Smith's Home-field, and if you will be ready to-morrow morning I will call for you, and we will go together, and get some for dinner." "Very well,"

said the little pig, "I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?"

"Oh, at six o'clock." Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the wolf came--(which he did about six)--and who said, "Little pig, are you ready?" The little pig said, "Ready! I have been, and come back again, and got a nice pot-full for dinner." The wolf felt very angry at this, but thought that he would be _up to_ the little pig somehow or other, so he said, "Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple-tree." "Where?" said the pig. "Down at Merry-garden," replied the wolf, "and if you will not deceive me I will come for you, at five o'clock to-morrow, and we will go together and get some apples." Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four o'clock, and went off for the apples, hoping to get back before the wolf came; but he had further to go, and had to climb the tree, so that just as he was coming down from it, he saw the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him very much. When the wolf came up he said, "Little pig, what! are you here before me? Are they nice apples?" "Yes, very," said the little pig. "I will throw you down one;" and he threw it so far, that, while the wolf was gone to pick it up, the little pig jumped down and ran home. The next day the wolf came again, and said to the little pig, "Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon, will you go?" "Oh yes," said the pig, "I will go; what time shall you be ready?" "At three," said the wolf.

So the little pig went off before the time as usual, and got to the fair, and bought a b.u.t.ter-churn, which he was going home with, when he saw the wolf coming. Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the churn to hide, and by so doing turned it round, and it rolled down the hill with the pig in it, which frightened the wolf so much, that he ran home without going to the fair. He went to the little pig's house, and told him how frightened he had been by a great round thing which came down the hill past him. Then the little pig said, "Hah, I frightened you then. I had been to the fair and bought a b.u.t.ter-churn, and when I saw you, I got into it, and rolled down the hill." Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he _would_ eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the chimney after him. When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and, just as the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the wolf; so the little pig put on the cover again in an instant, boiled him up, and eat him for supper, and lived happy ever afterwards.

LVI.

Little Tommy t.i.ttlemouse Lived in a little house; He caught fishes In other men's ditches.

LVII.

Little King Boggen he built a fine hall.

Pye-crust, and pastry-crust, that was the wall; The windows were made of black-puddings and white, And slated with pancakes--you ne'er saw the like.

LVIII.

The lion and the unicorn Were fighting for the crown; The lion beat the unicorn All round about the town.

Some gave them white bread, And some gave them brown; Some gave them plum-cake, And sent them out of town.

LIX.

There was a jolly miller Lived on the river Dee, He look'd upon his pillow, And there he saw a flee.

Oh! Mr. Flea, You have been biting me, And you must die: So he crack'd his bones Upon the stones, And there he let him lie.

LX.

Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig, and away he run!

The pig was eat, and Tom was beat, And Tom went roaring down the street.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LXI.

In Arthur's court Tom Thumb[*] did live, A man of mickle might; The best of all the table round, And eke a doughty knight.

His stature but an inch in height, Or quarter of a span; Then think you not this little knight Was proved a valiant man?

His father was a ploughman plain, His mother milk'd the cow, Yet how that they might have a son They knew not what to do:

Until such time this good old man To learned Merlin goes, And there to him his deep desires In secret manner shows.

How in his heart he wish'd to have A child, in time to come, To be his heir, though it might be No bigger than his thumb.

Of which old Merlin thus foretold, That he his wish should have, And so this son of stature small The charmer to him gave.

No blood nor bones in him should be, In shape, and being such That men should hear him speak, but not His wandering shadow touch.

But so unseen to go or come,-- Whereas it pleas'd him still; Begot and born in half an hour, To fit his father's will.

And in four minutes grew so fast That he became so tall As was the ploughman's thumb in height, And so they did him call--

TOM THUMB, the which the fairy queen There gave him to his name, Who, with her train of goblins grim, Unto his christening came.

Whereas she cloth'd him richly brave, In garments fine and fair, Which lasted him for many years In seemly sort to wear.

His hat made of an oaken leaf, His s.h.i.+rt a spider's web, Both light and soft for those his limbs That were so smally bred.

His hose and doublet thistle-down, Together weaved full fine; His stockings of an apple green, Made of the outward rind;

His garters were two little hairs Pull'd from his mother's eye; His boots and shoes, a mouse's skin, Were tann'd most curiously

Thus like a l.u.s.ty gallant, he Adventured forth to go, With other children in the streets, His pretty tricks to show.

Where he for counters, pins, and points, And cherry-stones did play, Till he amongst those gamesters young Had lost his stock away.

Yet could he soon renew the same, Whereas most nimbly he Would dive into their cherry-bags, And their partaker be,

Unseen or felt by any one, Until this scholar shut This nimble youth into a box, Wherein his pins he put.

Of whom to be reveng'd, he took, In mirth and pleasant game, Black pots and gla.s.ses, which he hung Upon a bright sun-beam.

The other boys to do the like, In pieces broke them quite; For which they were most soundly whipt; Whereat he laughed outright.

And so Tom Thumb restrained was, From these his sports and play; And by his mother after that, Compell'd at home to stay.

Until such time his mother went A-milking of her kine; Where Tom unto a thistle fast She linked with a twine.

A thread that held him to the same, For fear the bl.u.s.tering wind Should blow him hence,--that so she might Her son in safety find.

But mark the hap! a cow came by, And up the thistle eat; Poor Tom withal, that, as a dock, Was made the red cow's meat.

Who, being miss'd, his mother went Him calling everywhere; Where art thou, Tom? Where art thou, Tom?

Quoth he, here, mother, here!

Within the red cow's stomach here, Your son is swallowed up: The which into her fearful heart, Most careful dolours put.

Meanwhile the cow was troubled much, And soon releas'd Tom Thumb; No rest she had till out her mouth, In bad plight he did come.

Now after this, in sowing time, His father would him have Into the field to drive his plough, And thereupon him gave--

A whip made of a barley-straw, To drive the cattle on; Where, in a furrow'd land new sown, Poor Tom was lost and gone.

Now by a raven of great strength, Away he thence was borne, And carried in the carrion's beak, Even like a grain of corn,