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Title: The Bay and Padie book
Kiddie songs
Author: Furnley Maurice
Illustrator: Cyril Dobbs
Vera Hamilton
Release date: June 20, 2007 [eBook #21874]
Most recently updated: January 2, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Jason Isbell, Irma Spehar, Christine D. and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
https://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAY AND PADIE BOOK ***
"Do you like ours 'n' father's new book, Bay?"
"Aw, there's not any picture of the Santa-cart written in it!"
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to like!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to like!
So Bay doesn't stay in the stars any more
THE BAY AND PADIE BOOK
WHISPER!
When you're coming in the door
Please come gently, very gently!
Micky might be on the floor!
Fact, he might be anywhere!
Near the hallstand, by the stair!
Hush! Step gently, very gently!
When you're coming in the door.
When you're coming in the door
Please come gently, very gently!
Micky might be on the floor!
Fact, he might be anywhere!
Near the hallstand, by the stair!
Hush! Step gently, very gently!
When you're coming in the door.
The Writer wishes to thank the Editor of "The Bulletin," Sydney, for permission to reprint "Nonsense Immortal," and the Editor of "The Triad," Sydney, for a similar courtesy regarding "Kitchen Lullaby" and "Little Boys."
The
BAY AND PADIE
BOOK
KIDDIE SONGS
By
FURNLEY MAURICE
Illustrations by
VERA HAMILTON
and
CYRIL DOBBS
Commonwealth of Australia
Sydney J. Endacott
Melbourne
1917
First Edition November 1917
Second Edition February 1918
Wholly set up and printed in Australia at the Galleon Press, Norris-street, Surrey Hills, Vic., for Sydney J. Endacott, 14 Cumming-street, Moonee Vale, Vic.
THE SHADOW SHOW
Trains with wheels and clouds of smoke,
Funny crowds of dodging folk,
Trams that run along with sparks,
Sofa games and pillow larks,
Grubs and ponies, worms and tigers,
Sparrows on the tree,
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to see!
Funny crowds of dodging folk,
Trams that run along with sparks,
Sofa games and pillow larks,
Grubs and ponies, worms and tigers,
Sparrows on the tree,
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to see!
Aeroplanes and paper darts,
Woodmen driving broken carts,
Minahs on the chimney tops,
Swallows dodging near the shops,
Barking pups that make the postman
Fall down off his bike;
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to like!
Woodmen driving broken carts,
Minahs on the chimney tops,
Swallows dodging near the shops,
Barking pups that make the postman
Fall down off his bike;
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to like!
Great big pictures in big books,
Pastry from the pastrycook's,
Circuses and Mentone sand,
Musics of the soldier band,
Chocolates wrapped in silver paper
So they won't get wet;
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to get!
Pastry from the pastrycook's,
Circuses and Mentone sand,
Musics of the soldier band,
Chocolates wrapped in silver paper
So they won't get wet;
Oh!
What a lot of lots of things
For little boys to get!
WHISPER!
Tip-toe, Tip-toe, hush the noise,
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune;
Micky's making songs for boys;
Sleepy after the afternoon.
Tip-toe, Tip-toe, hush the noise,
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune;
Micky's making songs for boys;
Sleepy after the afternoon.
THE SOLDIER BAND
My mother and my father are both having tea to drink;
Inside the pastry shop they saw me last.
They don't know where I've got to, for I've runned from where they think;
I heard the soldier band go marching past.
Inside the pastry shop they saw me last.
They don't know where I've got to, for I've runned from where they think;
I heard the soldier band go marching past.
Oh, tiddley—om—ti—pomp they go! Stamp soldier, stamp!
A cab-horse jumped into the air and bumped against a lamp.
Ta—rah—ra—rah, the trumpets go telling the boys to come,
And always and all the time, bang goes the drum.
A cab-horse jumped into the air and bumped against a lamp.
Ta—rah—ra—rah, the trumpets go telling the boys to come,
And always and all the time, bang goes the drum.
Look at their lovely leather legs! The big brass things they blow!
I don't care where I walk or who I meet,
I'm following the band away to where the musics grow,
I'm hitting my boots heavy on the street.
I don't care where I walk or who I meet,
I'm following the band away to where the musics grow,
I'm hitting my boots heavy on the street.
For I must find the music man that lets them play so loud,
And find the funny place where soldiers go
To fill their trumpets with the noise they blow among the crowd—
It's not a tea and pastry shop I know.
And find the funny place where soldiers go
To fill their trumpets with the noise they blow among the crowd—
It's not a tea and pastry shop I know.
WHISPER!
Anyone seen Micky here?
Him that lives above the ceiling.
Sometimes far and sometimes near,
Boys have heard his little squealing.
Anyone seen Micky here?
Him that lives above the ceiling.
Sometimes far and sometimes near,
Boys have heard his little squealing.
Oh, I must find the music place, and stamp along the track,
And try to let no trams run over me;
If I'm a long, long way from home, the band will play me back,
That's if I'm good and never spill my tea.
And try to let no trams run over me;
If I'm a long, long way from home, the band will play me back,
That's if I'm good and never spill my tea.
When I grow up a soldier man, I'll buy a pole to wag,
With silver top and tassels red and blue;
I'll tell my little brother to be carrying the flag,
While I call out and tell him how to do.
With silver top and tassels red and blue;
I'll tell my little brother to be carrying the flag,
While I call out and tell him how to do.
I don't know where my father is, I've left him in a shop,
And if I'm lost there's bound to be a noise;
If fathers want their children, they should make the policeman stop
The music of the bands that steal the boys.
And if I'm lost there's bound to be a noise;
If fathers want their children, they should make the policeman stop
The music of the bands that steal the boys.
Oh, tiddley—om—ti—pomp they go! Stamp, soldier, stamp!
A captain with a silver sword is marching them to camp.
Ta—rah—ra—rah, the trumpets go, telling the boys to come,
And always and all the time, bang goes the drum.
A captain with a silver sword is marching them to camp.
Ta—rah—ra—rah, the trumpets go, telling the boys to come,
And always and all the time, bang goes the drum.
WHISPER!
Hush, you, hush! I heard a patter
On the 'randah, in the wet!
Now 'n again, we've heard him chatter,
But we've never seen him yet.
Hush, you, hush! I heard a patter
On the 'randah, in the wet!
Now 'n again, we've heard him chatter,
But we've never seen him yet.
INVALID
Raid, raid, go away,
Dote cub back udtil I say,
That wote be for beddy a day.
Dote cub back udtil I say,
That wote be for beddy a day.
Ad wot's the good of sudlight, dow?
When I ab kept id bed,
Ad rubbed ad poultised for to cure
The cold that's id be head?
When I ab kept id bed,
Ad rubbed ad poultised for to cure
The cold that's id be head?
I've beed out od the kitched lawd,
With dothig od be feet,
Ad subthig's coffig id be deck
Ad all be head's a heat.
With dothig od be feet,
Ad subthig's coffig id be deck
Ad all be head's a heat.
Tell Bay to dot bake such a doise;
Dote rud the cart so hard!
For tissudt fair, just wud of us
To rud arowd the yard.
Dote rud the cart so hard!
For tissudt fair, just wud of us
To rud arowd the yard.
Ad wed I try to say a tale,
Or sig a little sog,
The coffig cubs idtoo be deck
Ad tickles dredful strog.
Or sig a little sog,
The coffig cubs idtoo be deck
Ad tickles dredful strog.
Ad wed is father cubbig obe?
He'd dot be log he said—
If this is jist a cold it bust
Be awful to be dead!
He'd dot be log he said—
If this is jist a cold it bust
Be awful to be dead!
Oh what a log, log day it is!
Ibe tired of blocks ad books;
I've cowted all the ceilig lides,
I've thought of sheep ad chooks.
Ibe tired of blocks ad books;
I've cowted all the ceilig lides,
I've thought of sheep ad chooks.
I've drawd a bad's face with a bo,
I've drawed a pipe to sboke;
Just wed I thought I was asleep
I wedt ad thought I woke!
I've drawed a pipe to sboke;
Just wed I thought I was asleep
I wedt ad thought I woke!
WHISPER!
Tip-toe, tip-toe, through the house,
'Round the pantry, down the hall.
P'raps he's only just a mouse;
P'raps he's nuffing real at all.
Tip-toe, tip-toe, through the house,
'Round the pantry, down the hall.
P'raps he's only just a mouse;
P'raps he's nuffing real at all.
Wot's the good of sudlight dow,
Ad wot's the good of raid?
Ad wot's the good of eddythig
Wed all your head's a paid?
Ad wot's the good of raid?
Ad wot's the good of eddythig
Wed all your head's a paid?
Raid, raid go away,
Ad dote cub back udtil I say,
Ad that wote be for beddy a day.
Ad dote cub back udtil I say,
Ad that wote be for beddy a day.
WHOM THE GODS LOVE
He's so chubby and happy and wonderful,
Dainty and perfectly made,
That when he kicks at the sunbeams there,
Out on the grass in his cradle chair,
Somehow I feel afraid.
Dainty and perfectly made,
That when he kicks at the sunbeams there,
Out on the grass in his cradle chair,
Somehow I feel afraid.
We ought to hide him away, I think,
Real beauty was always a bane,
If the gods get to know of his baby wiles,
Of his firm round limbs, or his magic smiles,
They'll want him back again.
Real beauty was always a bane,
If the gods get to know of his baby wiles,
Of his firm round limbs, or his magic smiles,
They'll want him back again.
WHISPER!
Hush, you! Hush! I think I hear
Just a little noise of humming!
If you see him waiting near
Please don't whisper him we're coming!
Hush, you! Hush! I think I hear
Just a little noise of humming!
If you see him waiting near
Please don't whisper him we're coming!
LITTLE BOYS
The roads go out to Macedon, the roads go out to Rome,
Some die in snowy Buffaloes and some turn home;
I've done the Alps and Apennines, and Naples to the moon,
For fancies cover splendid ground in a Summer afternoon.
And then I come to gloryland, and whom do I see there
But little Boyo Browneyes and Billy Wirehair?
Some die in snowy Buffaloes and some turn home;
I've done the Alps and Apennines, and Naples to the moon,
For fancies cover splendid ground in a Summer afternoon.
And then I come to gloryland, and whom do I see there
But little Boyo Browneyes and Billy Wirehair?
Little Imps of Gloryland with great big eyes
Follow me with questionings and laughter and surprise;
Little cheeky pixie boys whom nothing can suppress,
Whose pandects, codes and institutes are bound in mother's "Yes."
Follow me with questionings and laughter and surprise;
Little cheeky pixie boys whom nothing can suppress,
Whose pandects, codes and institutes are bound in mother's "Yes."
When Uncle comes in Sunday clothes they clamour to be kissed,
Black-currants sticking to each face and pancakes in each fist.
Four fists that is, all over jam, and four black sticky lips
Just come from playing motor-chairs and sailing sofa-ships.
And if you wander on the lawn untended in the dark
With tricycles and wheelbarrows your shins will lose some bark!
Black-currants sticking to each face and pancakes in each fist.
Four fists that is, all over jam, and four black sticky lips
Just come from playing motor-chairs and sailing sofa-ships.
And if you wander on the lawn untended in the dark
With tricycles and wheelbarrows your shins will lose some bark!
WHISPER!
Someone smashed the photo-lady;
Who upset the pot of musk?
Was it Micky? Was it Padie
Hunting Micky in the dusk?
Someone smashed the photo-lady;
Who upset the pot of musk?
Was it Micky? Was it Padie
Hunting Micky in the dusk?
For what's your talk of tidiness and putting things "right there"
To little Boyo Browneyes and Billy Wirehair?
To little Boyo Browneyes and Billy Wirehair?
I'm picking up the channel or I'm trucking up the slope,
I'm hauling on the shear-head with a length of yellow rope;
No matter where I'm wandering, in dreaming or in fact,
Wool-loaded down the blacksoil plains or past the desert tract,
About the city clamorous with many brakes and bells,
It takes no sweep of wizard wand nor moonlit fairy spells
To bring me back to kitchen land, and whom do I see there
But little Boyo Browneyes and Billy Wirehair!
I'm hauling on the shear-head with a length of yellow rope;
No matter where I'm wandering, in dreaming or in fact,
Wool-loaded down the blacksoil plains or past the desert tract,
About the city clamorous with many brakes and bells,
It takes no sweep of wizard wand nor moonlit fairy spells
To bring me back to kitchen land, and whom do I see there
But little Boyo Browneyes and Billy Wirehair!
PEEP SONG
Oh, Friday night's the laundry night,
Down the street in the dark—
And Saturday night's the picture night,
When bands play in the park.
Down the street in the dark—
And Saturday night's the picture night,
When bands play in the park.
But Sunday morning is the time
We do the pillow-peep,
To see what things the fairies brought
While two boys were asleep.
We do the pillow-peep,
To see what things the fairies brought
While two boys were asleep.
WHISPER!
In the after afternoons
When there comes big starey moons,
Often we've heard Micky playing
By the window, fairy tunes.
But I don't know what he's saying
In the after afternoons.
In the after afternoons
When there comes big starey moons,
Often we've heard Micky playing
By the window, fairy tunes.
But I don't know what he's saying
In the after afternoons.
NATURE STUDY
A mouse jumped into the watering-can
And peeped out of the spout,
And said: "If it wasn't for that young man
I'm sure I could get out!"
And peeped out of the spout,
And said: "If it wasn't for that young man
I'm sure I could get out!"
But Sufi sprang from an unknown spot,
And the two boys wondered, afraid,
When he carried the mouse to a garden plot
And played, and played, and played.
And the two boys wondered, afraid,
When he carried the mouse to a garden plot
And played, and played, and played.
THE SKY IN THE POOL
Down by the glassy pool
Sand and water meet,
There's a little wooden stool,
Marks of little feet.
Sand and water meet,
There's a little wooden stool,
Marks of little feet.
When the broth was in the bowl,
Mother called to-day;
Mother called and no one came,
Someone was away.
Mother called to-day;
Mother called and no one came,
Someone was away.
Then there came a little boy,
Whose broth was very cool,
Stuttering in wonderment,
"The sky is in the pool!"
Whose broth was very cool,
Stuttering in wonderment,
"The sky is in the pool!"
And mother wept, because the clear
Depths of all pool-skies,
The soul's wonder, the heart's fear,
Were gathered in his eyes.
Depths of all pool-skies,
The soul's wonder, the heart's fear,
Were gathered in his eyes.
WHISPER!
Anyone seen Micky, say,
On the Coota-wattle perching?
He might know and run away
If he knows we're searching, searching.
Anyone seen Micky, say,
On the Coota-wattle perching?
He might know and run away
If he knows we're searching, searching.
NEELY LORST
There's women and there's men as well and little baby things,
And some haves only dresses on and some of 'em haves wings,
They nibble dandelions for meat, they drink the bubble frorf,
They never spill their cocoa-milk all down the table-clorf,
They never cry because it hurts, they always eat their brorf.
And some haves only dresses on and some of 'em haves wings,
They nibble dandelions for meat, they drink the bubble frorf,
They never spill their cocoa-milk all down the table-clorf,
They never cry because it hurts, they always eat their brorf.
Last night we heard a trumpet in the tea-tree down the street,
And Padie left the table that was full of things to eat,
He galloped for the music that seemed not so far away,
And neely found the fairies where the trumpet used to play!
And Padie left the table that was full of things to eat,
He galloped for the music that seemed not so far away,
And neely found the fairies where the trumpet used to play!
Our mother went and catched him and he neely wasn't found,
He neely fell into the creek through looking round and round.
A naughty sea-shell cutted him, he had a bleedy toe,
He lorst one Sunday sandal and he didn't seem to know;
He only stood and wondered why all fairies live in moons,
And go home in the twilight with their trumpets blowing tunes.
He neely fell into the creek through looking round and round.
A naughty sea-shell cutted him, he had a bleedy toe,
He lorst one Sunday sandal and he didn't seem to know;
He only stood and wondered why all fairies live in moons,
And go home in the twilight with their trumpets blowing tunes.
WHISPER!
When he talks to Bay and me,
Micky doesn't seem to know
It's too far for boys to see,
If he's in the trellis tree;
It's too damp for boys to go
Hunting in the grass below.
When he talks to Bay and me,
Micky doesn't seem to know
It's too far for boys to see,
If he's in the trellis tree;
It's too damp for boys to go
Hunting in the grass below.
A WHISPER SONG
When you're coming in the door,
Please come gently, very gently!
Micky might be on the floor!
Fact, he might be anywhere!
Near the hallstand, by the stair!
Hush! step gently, very gently!
When you're coming in the door.
Please come gently, very gently!
Micky might be on the floor!
Fact, he might be anywhere!
Near the hallstand, by the stair!
Hush! step gently, very gently!
When you're coming in the door.
Tip-toe, tip-toe, hush the noise,
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune!
Micky's making songs for boys
Sleepy after the afternoon.
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune!
Micky's making songs for boys
Sleepy after the afternoon.
Anyone seen Micky here?
Him that lives above the ceiling?
Sometimes far and sometimes near
Boys have heard his little squealing.
Him that lives above the ceiling?
Sometimes far and sometimes near
Boys have heard his little squealing.
Hush you! Hush! I heard a patter
On the 'randah in the wet!
Now'n again we've heard him chatter,
But we've never seen him yet.
On the 'randah in the wet!
Now'n again we've heard him chatter,
But we've never seen him yet.
Tip-toe, tip-toe, through the house,
'Round the pantry, down the hall!
P'raps he's only just a mouse,
P'raps he's nuffing real at all.
'Round the pantry, down the hall!
P'raps he's only just a mouse,
P'raps he's nuffing real at all.
Hush you! Hush! I think I hear
Just a little noise of humming!
If you see him waiting near,
Please don't whisper him we're coming.
Just a little noise of humming!
If you see him waiting near,
Please don't whisper him we're coming.
Someone smashed the photo-lady;
Who upset the pot of musk?
Was it Micky? Was it Padie
Hunting Micky in the dusk?
Who upset the pot of musk?
Was it Micky? Was it Padie
Hunting Micky in the dusk?
WHISPER!
On the rafters in the night,
I've heard little footmarks trot;
And I watch the candle light,
Wondering if it's him or not.
On the rafters in the night,
I've heard little footmarks trot;
And I watch the candle light,
Wondering if it's him or not.
In the after afternoons
When there comes big, starey moons,
Often we've heard Micky playing
By the window, fairy tunes;
But I don't know what he's saying
In the after afternoons.
When there comes big, starey moons,
Often we've heard Micky playing
By the window, fairy tunes;
But I don't know what he's saying
In the after afternoons.
Anyone seen Micky, say,
On the Coota-wattle perching?
He might know and run away
If he knows we're searching, searching.
On the Coota-wattle perching?
He might know and run away
If he knows we're searching, searching.
When he talks to Bay and me,
Micky doesn't seem to know
It's too far for boys to see
If he's in the trellis tree;
It's too damp for boys to go
Hunting in the grass below.
Micky doesn't seem to know
It's too far for boys to see
If he's in the trellis tree;
It's too damp for boys to go
Hunting in the grass below.
On the rafters in the night
I've heard little footmarks trot;
And I watch the candle light,
Wondering if it's him or not.
I've heard little footmarks trot;
And I watch the candle light,
Wondering if it's him or not.
Micky's always everywhere;
Watches children while they sleeping;
'Round about the attic stair
Sometimes mother saw him peeping.
Watches children while they sleeping;
'Round about the attic stair
Sometimes mother saw him peeping.
Micky doesn't like much noise,
He's a wide-eye whisper fairy;
Very kind to girls and boys,
Very shy and most contrary.
He's a wide-eye whisper fairy;
Very kind to girls and boys,
Very shy and most contrary.
Tip-toe, tip-toe! Hush the noise!
There's a wide-eye whisper tune!
Micky's telling songs to boys
Sleepy after the afternoon.
There's a wide-eye whisper tune!
Micky's telling songs to boys
Sleepy after the afternoon.
WHISPER!
Micky's always everywhere;
Watches children while they sleeping.
Round about the attic stair
Sometimes mother saw him peeping.
Micky's always everywhere;
Watches children while they sleeping.
Round about the attic stair
Sometimes mother saw him peeping.
THE LADY NANCY
What's the gooder being good?
Always every day
Somefing comes and compradicks
Everyfing I play.
Always every day
Somefing comes and compradicks
Everyfing I play.
I was digging in the garden
And I digged me toe,
Why do I do that for?
I don't know!
And I digged me toe,
Why do I do that for?
I don't know!
Then I goes and chases Sufi,
Sufi won't be chased:
I falled over the wheelbarrow
And hurted all me waist.
Sufi won't be chased:
I falled over the wheelbarrow
And hurted all me waist.
I tooks me little pictures out
And laid them in a row,
I told the wind to stop away
And not come round and blow.
And laid them in a row,
I told the wind to stop away
And not come round and blow.
Up there comes a norful wind
And brushed the lot away:
Daddie, Gord's been 'noying me
All this day.
And brushed the lot away:
Daddie, Gord's been 'noying me
All this day.
THE HANGING SWORD
I used to stride like a warrior
All hot for alarms, and game—
But I'm not the fellow I was before
The little babies came.
All hot for alarms, and game—
But I'm not the fellow I was before
The little babies came.
Now, furtive 'mid the city's noise,
I pause, I start, I flee!
For what would happen to my little boys
If a tram ran over me?
I pause, I start, I flee!
For what would happen to my little boys
If a tram ran over me?
WHISPER!
Micky doesn't like much noise,
He's a wide-eye-whisper fairy,
Very kind to girls and boys,
Very shy and most contrary.
Micky doesn't like much noise,
He's a wide-eye-whisper fairy,
Very kind to girls and boys,
Very shy and most contrary.
NONSENSE IMMORTAL
From France or Spain or the Himalayas,
Out of the hearts of unknown loons,
In toothless mouths of old soothsayers,
On hairy lips of wandering players
Come the lullabies, come the croons.
Out of the hearts of unknown loons,
In toothless mouths of old soothsayers,
On hairy lips of wandering players
Come the lullabies, come the croons.
Lords have lashed and poets have pondered,
Blood has flowed in the runnels deep,
Beacons have broken and faiths been squandered;
Through dank forests these songs have wandered
Quietly crooning our babes to sleep.
Blood has flowed in the runnels deep,
Beacons have broken and faiths been squandered;
Through dank forests these songs have wandered
Quietly crooning our babes to sleep.
Grandmother melodies, grandmother fancies,
Crooned by the Oxus ever endure!
Epics of valour and throne romances
Have much honour and take big chances,
But the clowns who sang for the babes are sure.
Crooned by the Oxus ever endure!
Epics of valour and throne romances
Have much honour and take big chances,
But the clowns who sang for the babes are sure.
The goblin speaks while in old caves moulder
Priest-made destinies and lord-made law,
The goblin leered from the monarch's shoulder
And, his sight being true and his young heart bolder,
'Twas only the goblin the baby saw!
Priest-made destinies and lord-made law,
The goblin leered from the monarch's shoulder
And, his sight being true and his young heart bolder,
'Twas only the goblin the baby saw!
So the god's death agonies are baby chatter!
A ball on the floor of the nursery room
The red earth rolls, for what can matter
If old John Spratt licks clean his platter
And the brown cows go to the broom?
A ball on the floor of the nursery room
The red earth rolls, for what can matter
If old John Spratt licks clean his platter
And the brown cows go to the broom?
WHISPER!
Tip-toe, tip-toe! Hush the noise!
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune!
Micky's telling songs to boys,
Sleepy after the afternoon.
Tip-toe, tip-toe! Hush the noise!
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune!
Micky's telling songs to boys,
Sleepy after the afternoon.
THE ROAD OF NOW AND THEN
Tinkle, tinkle go the bells,
King and prince and silver knight
March through stories grandma tells
When the winter fire's alight.
King and prince and silver knight
March through stories grandma tells
When the winter fire's alight.
Down the Road of Stories ride
People who have never died;
Fairies float and trumpets blow,
Pretty soldiers fence and bow,
On the Road from Long Ago,
Long Ago till Now.
People who have never died;
Fairies float and trumpets blow,
Pretty soldiers fence and bow,
On the Road from Long Ago,
Long Ago till Now.
Johnnie Fawkner sailed a boat,
There's its picture in the book;
Roses, wreaths and banners float
'Round the head of Captain Cook.
There's its picture in the book;
Roses, wreaths and banners float
'Round the head of Captain Cook.
In the time when knights were bold
Ladies rode with bells and chains,
Horses rugged in white and gold,
Feather-legged with plaited manes.
Ladies rode with bells and chains,
Horses rugged in white and gold,
Feather-legged with plaited manes.
Singing, Watch Europa go,
Wearing thinner clothes than silk.
Riding from the cattle show
On her bull as white as milk.
Wearing thinner clothes than silk.
Riding from the cattle show
On her bull as white as milk.
Sturt he led a caravan,
Kelly made the bankers jump;
Leichardt was a camel-man
Riding on a camel-hump.
Kelly made the bankers jump;
Leichardt was a camel-man
Riding on a camel-hump.
Down the Road of Stories march
Gentle-folk and bullock-men,
Cracking whips and wearing starch
On the Road of Now and Then
Gentle-folk and bullock-men,
Cracking whips and wearing starch
On the Road of Now and Then
WHISPER!
When you're coming in the door
Please come gently, very gently!
Micky might be on the floor!
Fact, he might be anywhere!
Near the hallstand, by the stair!
Hush! step gently, very gently!
When you're coming in the door.
When you're coming in the door
Please come gently, very gently!
Micky might be on the floor!
Fact, he might be anywhere!
Near the hallstand, by the stair!
Hush! step gently, very gently!
When you're coming in the door.
Down the Road of Stories go
All the people that we know.
Oh! what wonders grandmas show,
Spectacles on brow,
'Bout the Road from Long Ago,
Long Ago, Long Ago,
'Bout the Road from Long Ago,
Long Ago till Now.
All the people that we know.
Oh! what wonders grandmas show,
Spectacles on brow,
'Bout the Road from Long Ago,
Long Ago, Long Ago,
'Bout the Road from Long Ago,
Long Ago till Now.
SLEEP SONG
Half-past bunny-time,
'Possums by the moon;
Tea and bread-and-honey time,
Sleep-time soon.
'Possums by the moon;
Tea and bread-and-honey time,
Sleep-time soon.
Things that poets pant to see,
The beautiful, the true,
Are nothing to the phantasy
The closed eyes view.
The beautiful, the true,
Are nothing to the phantasy
The closed eyes view.
WHISPER!
Tip-toe, Tip-toe, hush the noise,
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune;
Micky's making songs for boys;
Sleepy after the afternoon.
Tip-toe, Tip-toe, hush the noise,
There's a wide-eye-whisper tune;
Micky's making songs for boys;
Sleepy after the afternoon.
KITCHEN LULLABY
Steady in the kitchen, steady in the hall,
Don't let the dipper or the gruel pot fall!
The ole blind's flapping
And the little dog's snapping
At the butcher and the baker and the woodman when they call.
Don't let the dipper or the gruel pot fall!
The ole blind's flapping
And the little dog's snapping
At the butcher and the baker and the woodman when they call.
Ssh! ssh! ssh! for the little boy peeping,
Ssh! ssh! ssh! did the milky make him start?
Little boy sleeping, sleeping, sleeping,
Little boy sleeping at his mother's heart.
Ssh! ssh! ssh! did the milky make him start?
Little boy sleeping, sleeping, sleeping,
Little boy sleeping at his mother's heart.
What a lot of noises, carts and buzzing flies!
Keep his little hands down, shut his little eyes;
For the boys are larking
And the dogs are barking
And he can't go to bye-low though he tries and tries.
Keep his little hands down, shut his little eyes;
For the boys are larking
And the dogs are barking
And he can't go to bye-low though he tries and tries.
Ssh! ssh! ssh! for the little boy blinking,
Blinking at the fairies who are wanting him to go;
Little boy thinking, thinking, thinking,
Little boy thinking if he will or no.
Blinking at the fairies who are wanting him to go;
Little boy thinking, thinking, thinking,
Little boy thinking if he will or no.
Rubs his little eye for to push the sleep away;
Better on the lawn is it? Watching spriggies play?
Minahs and starlings,
But no such darlings
As the little boy that's never been to sleep this day.
Better on the lawn is it? Watching spriggies play?
Minahs and starlings,
But no such darlings
As the little boy that's never been to sleep this day.
Ssh! ssh! ssh! for the big eyes gleaming,
Dee, dee, softly his mother sings;
Little boy dreaming, dreaming, dreaming,
Fluttering to bye-low on bull-fly wings.
Dee, dee, softly his mother sings;
Little boy dreaming, dreaming, dreaming,
Fluttering to bye-low on bull-fly wings.
WHISPER!
Anyone seen Micky here?
Him that lives above the ceiling.
Sometimes far and sometimes near,
Boys have heard his little squealing.
Anyone seen Micky here?
Him that lives above the ceiling.
Sometimes far and sometimes near,
Boys have heard his little squealing.
BARTER
Kiddies must have little shoes
Softly buckled round their toes,
Rompers wrought in butcher blues,
That's the way the money goes.
Softly buckled round their toes,
Rompers wrought in butcher blues,
That's the way the money goes.
In the Summer silky cool
Fabrics foaming in the breeze;
In the Winter muffling wool—
We must buy our kiddies these.
Fabrics foaming in the breeze;
In the Winter muffling wool—
We must buy our kiddies these.
Woolly gaiters, tasselled hoods,
Mantles soft that flow and fall,
All the very best of foods,
All the very best of all.
Mantles soft that flow and fall,
All the very best of foods,
All the very best of all.
Babies must have songs for sleep,
Anxious watchings night and day,
Kisses if they laugh or weep,
So the ripe hours rush away.
Anxious watchings night and day,
Kisses if they laugh or weep,
So the ripe hours rush away.
And for this we pay (it seems
We may not serve visions, too)
With our high neglected dreams,
With great things we meant to do.
We may not serve visions, too)
With our high neglected dreams,
With great things we meant to do.