Part 7 (2/2)

The sea-serpent coils, all painted in oils, Around her bee-yu-tiful waist.

Oh! her gown is made of the green sea-kale; And though she knows nothing of feet, She can manage her train, with an air of disdain, In a way that is perfectly sweet.

Oh! the Queen of the Orkney Islands, She's travelling over the main.

So we'll hire a hack, and we'll take her straight back To her beautiful Islands again.

BABY'S WAYS.

Toddle, toddle, waddle, waddle, On her little pinky toes.

Stumble, stumble, pitch and tumble, That's the way the baby goes.

Prattle, prattle, rattle, rattle, Little shouts and little shrieks, Tears, with laughter coming after, That's the way the baby speaks.

Playing, toying, still enjoying Every sweet that Nature gives.

Smiling, weeping, waking, sleeping, That's the way the baby lives.

POT AND KETTLE.

[_To be read to little boys and girls who quarrel with each other._]

”Oho! Oho!” said the pot to the kettle, ”You're dirty and ugly and black!

Sure no one would think you were made of metal, Except when you're given a crack.”

”Not so! not so!” kettle said to the pot.

”'Tis your own dirty image you see.

For I am so clear, without blemish or blot, That your blackness is mirrored in me.”

PUNKYDOODLE AND JOLLAPIN.

Oh, Pillykin w.i.l.l.ykin Winky Wee!

How does the Emperor take his tea?

He takes it with melons, he takes it with milk, He takes it with syrup and sa.s.safras silk.

He takes it without, he takes it within.

Oh, Punkydoodle and Jollapin!

Oh, Pillykin w.i.l.l.ykin Winky Wee!

How does the Cardinal take his tea?

He takes it in Latin, he takes it in Greek, He takes it just seventy times in the week.

He takes it so strong that it makes him grin.

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