Part 5 (1/2)

And he hopped and he skipped, and he skipped and he hopped, Until he came down to the sh.o.r.e.

And there on the rocks sat the little mermaid, And still she was singing so free, ”Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won't you come out to me?”

Little John Bottlejohn made a bow, And the mermaid, she made one too, And she said, ”Oh! I never saw any one half So perfectly sweet as you!

In my lovely home 'neath the ocean foam, How happy we both might be!

Oh! little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Won't you come down with me?”

Little John Bottlejohn said, ”Oh yes!

I'll willingly go with you.

And I never shall quail at the sight of your tail, For perhaps I may grow one too.”

So he took her hand, and he left the land, And plunged in the foaming main.

And little John Bottlejohn, pretty John Bottlejohn, Never was seen again.

JEMIMA BROWN.

I.

Bring her here, my little Alice, Poor Jemima Brown!

Make the little cradle ready!

Softly lay her down!

Once she lived in ease and comfort, Slept on couch of down; Now upon the floor she's lying, Poor Jemima Brown!

II.

Once she was a lovely dolly, Rosy-cheeked and fair, With her eyes of brightest azure And her golden hair; Now, alas! no hair's remaining On her poor old crown; And the crown itself is broken, Poor Jemima Brown!

III.

Once her legs were smooth and comely, And her nose was straight; And that arm, now hanging lonely, Had, methinks, a mate.

And she was as finely dressed as Any doll in town.

Now she's old, forlorn, and ragged, Poor Jemima Brown!

IV.

Yet be kind to her, my Alice; 'Tis no fault of hers If her wilful little mistress Other dolls prefers.

Did _she_ pull her pretty hair out?

Did _she_ break her crown?