And they may scream and kick and call, Into the ink he dips them all; Into the inkstand, one, two, three, Till they are black as black can be; Turn over now, and you shall see. See, there they are, and there they run! The Black-a-moor enjoys the fun. They have been made as black as crows, Quite black all over, eyes and nose, And legs, and arms, and heads, and toes, And trousers, pinafores, and toys-- The silly little inky boys! Because they set up such a roar, And teased the harmless Black-a-moor. The Story of the Man that went out Shooting This is the man that shoots the hares; This is the coat he always wears: With game-bag, powder-horn, and gun He's going out to have some fun. He finds it hard, without a pair Of spectacles, to shoot the hare. The hare sits snug in leaves and grass, And laughs to see the green man pass. Now, as the sun grew very hot, And he a heavy gun had got, He lay down underneath a tree And went to sleep, as you may see. And, while he slept like any top, The little hare came, hop, hop, hop, Took gun and spectacles, and then On her hind legs went off again. The green man wakes and sees her place The spectacles upon her face; And now she's trying all she can To shoot the sleepy, green-coat man. He cries and screams and runs away; The hare runs after him all day And hears him call out everywhere: "Help! Fire! Help! The Hare! The Hare!" At last he stumbled at the well, Head over ears, and in he fell. The hare stopped short, took aim and, hark! Bang went the gun--she missed her mark! The poor man's wife was drinking up Her coffee in her coffee-cup; The gun shot cup and saucer through; "Oh dear!" cried she; "what shall I do?" There lived close by the cottage there The hare's own child, the little hare; And while she stood upon her toes, The coffee fell and burned her nose. "Oh dear!" she cried, with spoon in hand, "Such fun I do not understand." The Story of Little Suck-a-Thumb One day Mamma said "Conrad dear, I must go out and leave you here. But mind now, Conrad, what I say, Don't suck your thumb while I'm away. The great tall tailor always comes To little boys who suck their thumbs; And ere they dream what he's about, He takes his great sharp scissors out, And cuts their thumbs clean off--and then, You know, they never grow again." Mamma had scarcely turned her back, The thumb was in, Alack! Alack! The door flew open, in he ran, The great, long, red-legged scissor-man. Oh! children, see! the tailor's come And caught out little Suck-a-Thumb. Snip! Snap! Snip! the scissors go; And Conrad cries out "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Snip! Snap! Snip! They go so fast, That both his thumbs are off at last.