"Little Polly, will you go a-walking to-day?""Indeed, little Susan, I will, if I may.""Little Polly, your mother has said you may go:She was nice to say 'Yes;' she should never say 'No.'"
Six little people out for a walk;They would let you know where, if they only could talk.
Three tabbies took out their cats to tea,As well-behaved tabbies as well could be:Each sat in the chair that each preferred,They mewed for their milk, and they sipped and purred.Now tell me this (as these cats you've seen them)—How many lives had these cats between them?
Yes, it is sad of them—Shocking to me;Bad—yes, it's bad of them—Bad of all three.Warnings they've had from me,Still I repeat them—Cold is the water—theFishes will eat them;Yet they will row about;Tho' I say "Fie!" to them;Fathers may scold at it,Mothers may cry to them.
Will you be my little wife,If I ask you? Do!I'll buy you such a Sunday frock,A nice umbrella too.And you shall have a little hat,With such a long white feather,A pair of gloves, and sandal shoes,The softest kind of leather.And you shall have a tiny house,A bee-hive full of bees,A little cow, a largish cat,And green sage cheese.
Poor Dicky's dead!—The bell we toll,And lay him in the deep, dark hole.The sun may shine, the clouds may rain,But Dick will never pipe again!His quilt will be as sweet as ours—Bright buttercups and cuckoo-flowers.
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