She went to the baker's To buy him some bread; And when she came back, The poor dog was dead. She went to the joiner's To buy him a coffin; And when she came back, The doggy was laughin'. She went to the butcher's To buy him some tripe; And when she came back, He was smoking his pipe. She went to the hatter's To buy him a hat; And when she came back, He was feeding the cat. She went to the barber's To buy him a wig; And when she came back, He was dancing a jig. She went to the tailor's To buy him a coat; And when she came back, He was riding a goat. She went to the cobbler's To buy him some shoes; And when she came back, He was reading the news. * * * * * Little Bo-peep She lost her sheep, And couldn't tell where to find them. "Let them alone And they'll come home, Wagging their tails behind them." Little Bo-peep Fell fast asleep And dreamt she heard them bleating, But when she awoke, She found it a joke, For still they all were fleeting. Then up she took Her little crook, Determined for to find them. She found them indeed, But it made her heart bleed,-- For they'd left their tails behind them. * * * * * My dear, do you know A long time ago Two poor little children, Whose names I don't know, Were taken away on a bright summer day And left in the woods, as I've heard people say. And when it was night, How sad was their plight! The sun it went down And the stars hid their light. They sobbed and they sighed and sadly they cried, Till the poor little things at last lay down and died. And when they were dead, The robins so red Brought beech and oak leaves And over them spread. And all the day long, the branches among, They sang to them softly, and this was their song: "Poor babes in the woods, poor babes in the woods, Oh, who will come find the poor babes in the woods?" * * * * * Old Dan Tucker was a fine old man; He washed his face in a frying pan, He combed his hair with a wagon wheel, And died with the toothache in his heel. * * * * * Old Man John sitting down by the spring; He's a Jew, he's a ring, He's a many pretty thing. He's a hammer with nine nails, He's a cat with nine tails. Whip jack, spur Tom, Blow the bellows for Old Man John. * * * * * 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. * * * * * I had a little horse, his name was Dapple Gray; His legs were made of cornstalks, his body made of hay. I saddled him and bridled him and rode him off to town; Up came a puff of wind, and blew him up and down. The saddle flew off, and I let go,-- Now didn't my horse make a pretty little show? * * * * *