File:The Boyd Smith Mother Goose (1920) (14775064744).jpg

Identifier: boydsmithmothergsmit (find matches)
Title: The Boyd Smith Mother Goose
Year: 1920 (1920s)
Authors: Smith, E. Boyd (Elmer Boyd), 1860-1943, ill Elmendorf, Lawrence
Subjects: Nursery rhymes
Publisher: New York : G.P. Putnam's Sons
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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78 MOTHER GOOSE MELODIES TOM he was a pipers son,He learnd to play when he was young,And all the tunes that he could play,Was Over the hills and far away, Over the hills, and a great way off,And the wind will blow my topknot off. Now Tom with his pipe made such a noise,That he pleasd both the girls and the boys,And they stoppd to hear him play Over the hills and far away. Tom with his pipe did play with such skill,That those who heard him could never keep still;Whenever they heard they began for to dance,Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance. As Dolly was milking her cow one day, Tom took out his pipe and began for to play; So Dolly and the cow danced the Cheshire round, Till the pail was broke and the milk ran on the ground. He met Old Dame Trot with a basket of eggs,He used his pipe and she used her legs;She danced about till the eggs were all broke,She began for to fret, but he laughed at the joke.
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He met Old Dame Trot with a basket of eggsHe used his pipe and she used her legs. MOTHER GOOSE MELODIES 79 He saw a cross fellow was beating an ass,Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and glass;He took out his pipe and played them a tune.And the jackasss load was lightened full soon. 3 ftab a ^obbp^otzt 1HAD a little hobby-horse, and it was well shod,It carried me to the mill-door, trod, trod, trod;When I got there I gave a great shout,Down came the hobby-horse, and I cried out.Fie upon the miller, he was a great beast,He would not come to my house, I made a great feast;I had but little, but I would give him some,For playing of his bagpipes and beating his drum. ©ante, Utttle Jlabp DANCE, little baby, dance up high,Never mind, baby, mother is by ;Crow and caper, caper and crow,There, little baby, there you go.Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,Backward and forward, round and round;Dance, little baby, and mother will sing,With the merry coral, ding, ding, ding. A (A cinder)RIDDLE,

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