Tommy Trot, a man of law, Sold his bed and lay upon straw; Sold the straw and slept on grass; To buy his wife a looking-glass. _There Were Two Blackbirds._ There were two blackbirds Sitting on a hill, The one named Jack, She other named Jill; Fly away, Jack! Fly away, Jill! Come again, Jack! Come again, Jill! _There Was an Old Man._ There was an old man of Tobago, Who lived on rice gruel and sago; Till much to his bliss, His physician said this,— “To a leg, sir, of mutton you may go.” _Mary Had a Little Lamb._ [Illustration] Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow; And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go. He followed her to school one day; That was against the rule; It made the children laugh and play To see a lamb at school. And so the teacher turned him out, But still he lingered near, And waited patiently about Till Mary did appear. Then he ran to her, and laid His head upon her arm, As if he said, “I’m not afraid— You’ll keep me from all harm.” “What makes the lamb love Mary so?” The eager children cry. “Oh, Mary loves the lamb, you know,” The teacher did reply. And you each gentle animal In confidence may bind, And make them follow at your will, If you are only kind. [Illustration] A MODEST WIT. A supercilious nabob of the East— Haughty, being great—purse-proud, being rich— A governor, or general, at the least, I have forgotten which— Had in his family a humble youth, Who went from England in his patron’s suit, An unassuming boy, in truth A lad of decent parts, and good repute. This youth had sense and spirit; But yet with all his sense, Excessive diffidence Obscured his merit. One day, at table, flushed with pride and wine, His Honor, proudly free, severely merry, Conceived it would be vastly fine To crack a joke upon his secretary. “Young man,” he said, “by what art, craft, or trade, Did your good father gain a livelihood?”— “He was a saddler, sir,” Modestus said, “And in his time was reckon’d good.” “A saddler, eh! and taught you Greek, Instead of teaching you to sew! Pray why did not your father make A saddler, sir, of you?” Each parasite, then, as in duty bound, The joke applauded, and the laugh went round. At length Modestus, bowing low, Said (craving pardon, if too free he made), “Sir, by your leave, I fain would know _Your_ father’s trade!” “My father’s _trade_! by heaven that’s too bad! My father’s trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad? My father, sir, did never stoop so low— He was a gentleman, I’d have you know.”