ome pie!"
The qualmish knave, no longer brave,
Could only groan, "Not I."

One Misty Moisty Morning

"One misty, moisty morning
When cloudy was the weather
I chanced to meet an old man clothed all in leather.
He began to compliment, and I began to grin,
How do you do, and how do you do
And how do you do again?"

This morning as I wandered
To enjoy the charming weather,
I met a man in goggles and a modern suit of leather.
He began to toot a horn and I began to run,
He knocked me flat nor cared for that;
And down the road he spun.

OLD KING COLE

"Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he:
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler had a fine fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he:
(Twee-tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee, went the fiddlers three)--
Oh, there's none so rare as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three!"

I
Good Queen Kate was his royal mate,
And a right royal mate was she:
She would frequently state that carousing till late
Was something that never should be.
But every fiddler had such a fine fiddle,--
Oh, such a fine fiddle had he,--
That old King Cole, in his inmost soul,
Was as restive as he could be.

II
When thus spoke she to his majesty,
He planted his crown on tight.
"We will wait," whispered he to the fiddlers three,
"Till the Queen has retired for the night."
Every fiddler then tuned up his fiddle,
And tuned it as true as could be:
While old King Cole got his pipe and bowl
And replenished them secretly.

III
So gay they grew as the night hours flew,
He forgot how the time sped away;
Till swift overhead he heard the Queen's tread
As she sprang out of bed, when he hurriedly said
They might finish the tune the next day.
Every fiddler he had a fine fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he:
Oh, 't was not fair such a concert rare
Should be ended so suddenly!

PUSSY SITS BESIDE THE FIRE

"Pussy sits beside the fire
How can she be fair?
Then comes in the little dog.
"Pussy, are you there?
So so, dear Mistr