Cradle Songs

Cun-ning lit-tle feet,
Trot-ting down the street,
What will mam-ma say?
Ba-by’s run a-way —
Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.

Calls a boy: “Hal-loo!
See here, lit-tle pop-pet show,
Come with me!” No, no,
Ba-by’s do-in’ do
Ba-by’s own self! Fast
Round the cor-ner passed
Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.

Stops a great big man
Hur-ry-ing all he can:
“Here! what’s this! My!
Dropped down from the sky?
Some-bod-y’s to blame!
Ba-by, what’s your name?”
“Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.”

“Where you go-ing? say!”
“Day-day.” “What’s that, hey?
See the ba-by fidg-et!
What d’you want, you midg-et.”
“Piece o’but-ter-bed,
Su-gy on it, ’las-ses on it,
Jam on it,” said
Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.

Peo-ple pause to see:
La-dies, one, two, three;
A po-lice-man, too;
But no one that knew
Whence the ba-by came.
“What’s your pa-pa’s name?”
“Pa-pa Fay Fer-ny.”

Comes a breath-less maid:
“O dear! I’m a-fraid
Ba-by’s lost and gone —
Ba-by Fer-gu-son!
No – there down the street!
O, you naugh-ty sweet
Ba-by Fay Fer-ny!”

THE DOUGH-DOG

One day when grandma was making some pies,
She wished to give Tommy a pleasant surprise;
So she made a puppy-dog out of some dough,
And baked it, and marked it, and named it Bruno.
This wonderful dog could stand on its feet,

Its body was chubby, and cunning and neat,
Its little dough-head was spotted with black,
And its little dough-tail curled over its back.
And when Tommy saw it he shouted with glee,
“How good grandma was to make that for me!”
And he played with the puppy-dog day after day,
Till its head and its tail were both worn away.

    – M. E. N. H.

THE LION’S O-PIN-ION OF HIM-SELF

A li-on gazed down at his shad-ow one day;
Said he, “I look fierce, I de-clare!
No won-der my neigh-bors keep out of my way,
And wish they were birds of the air!

“And I own that real-ly I feel a-fraid
Some-times when I hear my-self roar!”
And he wished as he went and lay down in the shade
That he need be a li-on no more.

WHICH IS TALL-EST

Look! how they meas-ure,
Dai-sy and Rose;
Naught-y Dai-sy will stand