FREDDIE saw some fine ripe cherries Hanging on a cherry-tree, And he said, "You pretty cherries, Will you not come down to me?" "Thank you kindly," said a cherry, "We would rather stay up here; If we ventured down this morning, You would eat us up, I fear." One, the finest of the cherries, Dangled from a slender twig; "You are beautiful," said Freddie, "Red and ripe, and oh, how big!" "Catch me," said the cherry, "catch me, Little master, if you can." "I would catch you soon," said Freddie, "If I were a grown-up man." Freddie jumped, and tried to reach it, Standing high upon his toes; But the cherry bobbed about, And laughed, and tickled Freddie's nose. SIMPLE SIMON. [Illustration: Music: Simple Simon met a pieman, Going to the fair; Says Simple Simon to the pieman, "Let me taste your ware." Says the pieman to Simple Simon, "Show me first your penny." Says Simple Simon to the pieman, "Indeed I have not any."] He went to catch a dickey-bird, And thought he could not fail, Because he'd got a little salt To put upon his tail. [Illustration] He went to take a bird's nest, Was built upon a bough: A branch gave way, and Simon fell Into a dirty slough. [Illustration] He went to shoot a wild duck, But wild duck flew away; Says Simon, "I can't hit him, Because he will not stay." Simple Simon went a-hunting, For to catch a hare, He rode an ass about the streets, But couldn't find one there. Simple Simon went a-fishing For to catch a whale; All the water he had got Was in his mother's pail. He went for to eat honey Out of the mustard-pot, He bit his tongue until he cried, That was all the good he got. He went to ride a spotted cow, That had a little calf, She threw him down upon the ground, Which made the people laugh. Once Simon made a great snowball, And brought it in to roast; He laid it down before the fire, And soon the ball was lost. He went to slide upon the ice, Before the ice would bear; Then he plunged in above his knees, Which made poor Simon stare. [Illustration] He washed himself with blacking-ball, Because he had no soap; Then said unto his mother, "I'm a beauty now, I hope." Simple Simon went to look If plums grew on a thistle; He pricked his fingers very much, Which made poor Simon whistle. [Illustration] He went for water in a sieve, But soon it all ran through; And now poor Simple Simon Bids you all adieu. [Illustration] [Illustration] Willy boy, Willy boy, where are you going? I will go with you, if I may. I am going to the meadows, to see them mowing, I am going to see them make the hay. [Illustration]