While dandling the child on her knee the mother or nurse may sing:—
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I had a little pony, Its name was Dapple Grey: I lent it to a lady, To ride a mile away. She whipped it, she lashed it, She ca'd it owre the brae; I winna lend my pony mair, Though a' the ladies pray. |
In the same manner the above may be followed by—
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Chick! my naigie, Chick! my naigie, How many miles to Aberdaigy? Eight and eight, and other eight; Try to win there by candlelight. |
Or:—
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Cam' ye by the kirk? Cam' ye by the steeple? Saw ye our gudeman, Riding on a ladle? Foul fa' the bodie, Winna buy a saddle, Wearing a' his breeks, Riding on a ladle! |
Or again:—
Lighting a stick, and making it wave to and fro, so as to form a semi-circle of red fire before the child's eyes, the nurse will sing or croon:—
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Dingle, dingle dousy, The cat's at the well, The dog's awa' to Musselbro' To buy the bairn a bell. Greet, greet bairnie, And ye'se get a bell; If ye dinna greet faster, I'll keep it to mysel'. |
Or again, dandling the child, the entertainment may be what some Perthshire children know well:—
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Riding on a horsie, never standing still, Doun by St. Martins, and owre by Newmill, In by Guildtown and round by Cargill, Richt up Burstbane, and owre by Gallowhill, Yont by the Harelaw, and doun to Wolfhill, And that's the way to ride a horse and never stand still. |
Or the universal favourite may ensue:—
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Ride a Cock-Horse to Banbury Cross, To see an old woman ride on a white horse; Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, She shall have music wherever she goes. |
Or:—
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Hey diddle diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed, To see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon. |
In a reposeful attitude, such rhymes as follow may be employed:—
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Jack and Jill Went up the hill To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down And broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. |
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Shoo shuggie, owre the glen, Mammie's pet, and daddie's hen. |
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Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full; One for the master, one for the dame, One for the little boy that lives in the lane. |
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Goosey, Goosey Gander, Where shall I wander? Upstairs, downstairs, And in my lady's chamber. There I met an old man Who wouldn't say his prayers, I took him by the left leg, And threw him downstairs. |
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Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard, To fetch her poor doggie a bone; But when she got there, the cupboard was bare, And so the poor doggie got none. |
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Little Polly Flinders Sat among the cinders, Warming her pretty little toes, Her mother came and caught her, And whipped her little daughter For spoiling her nice new clothes. |
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Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig and away he run; Pig was eat, and Tom was beat, And Tom went roaring down the street. |
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Little Betty Blue Has lost her holiday shoe, Give her another To match the other, And then she will walk in two. |
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Three blind mice; three blind mice; See how they run; see how they run; They all ran after the farmer's wife, Who cut off their tails with a carving knife, Did ever you see such fools in your life? Three blind mice! |
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Mary, Mary, Quite contrairy, How does your garden grow? Silver bells, And cockle shells, And pretty-maids all in a row. |
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Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man! Bake a cake as fast as you can; Prick it, and pat it, and mark it with T, And put it in the oven for Tommy and me. |
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Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet, Eating her curds and whey; There came a great spider And sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away. |
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Jack Sprat could eat no fat, His wife could eat no lean; And so, betwixt them both, you see, They licked the platter clean. |
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Little Tom Tucker Sang for his supper. What shall we give him? Brown bread and butter. How shall he cut it Without any a knife? How shall he marry Without any wife? |
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See-saw, Margery Daw, Jenny shall have a new master; She shall have but a penny a day, Because she can't work any faster. |
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Roun', roun' rosie, cuppie, cuppie shell, The dog's awa' to Hamilton, to buy a new bell; If you don't tak' it, I'll tak' it to mysel', Roun', roun' rosie, cuppie, cuppie shell. |
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There was a little man, and he had a little gun, And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He shot Johnnie Twig through the middle of his wig, And knocked it right off his head, head, head. |
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Hickety, pickety, my black hen, Lays eggs for gentlemen, Whiles ane, whiles twa, Whiles a bonnie black craw. |
For slightly more matured wits will be provided:—
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There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children, she didn't know what to do; She gave them some broth, without any bread, And whipped them all soundly and put them to bed. |
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Doctor Foster, went to Glo'ster In a shower of rain; He stepped in a puddle, Up to the middle, And never went there again. |
This is another version of one that has been given earlier:—
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Ding, dong, bell, Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Tommy Thin. Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Stout. What a naughty boy was that, Thus to drown poor Pussy Cat. |
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Little Boy Blue, come, blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn; Where is the boy that looks after the sheep? He's under the haycock, fast asleep! |
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Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief, Taffy came to my house, and stole a piece of beef; I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was not at home; Taffy came to my house, and stole a marrow-bone. I went to Taffy's house, Taffy was in bed, I took up a broomstick and flung it at his head. |
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The lion and the unicorn Fighting for the crown; Up jumps a wee dog And knocks them both down. Some got white bread, And some got brown: But the lion beat the unicorn All round the town. |
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There was a wee wifie row'd up in a blanket, Nineteen times as high as the moon; And what she did there I canna declare, For in her oxter she bure the sun. Wee wifie, wee wifie, wee wifie, quo' I, O what are ye doin' up there so high? I'm blawin' the cauld clouds out o' the sky. Weel dune, weel dune, wee wifie, quo' I. |
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The laverock and the lintie, The robin and the wren; Gin ye harry their nests, Ye'll never thrive again. |
During a hail-storm country children sing:—
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Rainy, rainy rattle-stanes, Dinna rain on me; But rain on Johnnie Groat's House, Far owre the sea. |
Again, when snow is falling:—
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Snaw, snaw, flee awa' Owre the hills and far awa'. |
Towards the yellow-hammer, or yellow-yite—bird of beautiful plumage though it be—because it is the subject of an unaccountable superstitious notion, which credits it with drinking a drop of the devil's blood every May morning, the children of Scotland cherish no inconsiderable contempt, which finds expression in the rhyme:—
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Half a puddock, half a taed, Half a yellow yorling; Drinks a drap o' the deil's blood Every May morning. |
On the East Coast, when the seagulls fly inland in search of food, the children, not desiring their appearance—because —probably of the old superstition that they are prone to pick out the eyes of people—cry to them:—
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Seamaw, seamaw, my mither's awa' For pouther an' lead, to shoot ye dead— Pit-oo! pit-oo! pit-oo! |
To the lark's song the young mind gives language, in a kindly way, thus:—
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Larikie, larikie, lee! Wha'll gang up to heaven wi' me? No the lout that lies in his bed, No the doolfu' that dreeps his head. |
Interpreting similarly the lapwing's cry, they retaliate with:—
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Peese-weep! Peese-weep! Harry my nest, and gar me greet! |
Of the cuckoo they have this common rhyme:—
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The cuckoo is a bonnie bird, He sings as he flies; He brings us good tidings; He tells us no lies. He drinks the cold water To keep his voice clear; And he'll come again In the Spring of the year. |
The lady-bird, or "Leddy Lanners," is a favourite insect with children, and is employed by them to discover their future partners in life. When a boy or girl finds one, he, or she, as the case may be, places it on the palm of his, or her, hand, and repeats, until it flies off, the lines:—
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Leddy, Leddy Lanners, Leddy, Leddy Lanners, Tak' up yer cloak about yer head An' flee awa' to Flann'ers; Flee ower firth, an' flee ower fell, Flee ower pool, an' rinnin' well, Flee ower hill, an' flee ower mead, Flee ower livin', flee ower dead, Flee ower corn, an' flee ower lea, Flee ower river, flee ower sea, Flee ye East, or flee ye West, Flee to the ane that loves me best. |
The following rhyme, old and curious, and still not unknown to the young in Scotland and England alike, has many varieties:—
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Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed that I lie on; Four posties to my bed, Six angels are outspread: Two to bottom, two to head, One to watch me while I pray, One to bear my soul away. |
After the first two lines it goes sometimes:—
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Four corners to my bed, Four angels round my head; One to read and one to write, Two to guard my bed at night. |
And often the closing lines run:—
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One to watch and two to pray, One to keep all fears away. |
In an old MS. by Aubrey, in the British Museum, he states that this was a prayer regularly used by people when they went to bed. Then Ody, in his Candle in the Dark, 1656, tells that it was frequently used by old people as a charm, and was repeated three times before going to bed. Launcelot Sharpe, in his Towneley Mysteries, 1838, relates that he had often, when a boy, heard similar words used in Kent as a prayer.
Since about the time of the Crimean War—and more immediately after then than now—the children of Glasgow have shouted in the streets:—
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Saw ye the Forty-Second? Saw ye them gaun awa'? Saw ye the Forty-Second Marching to the Broomielaw? Some o' them had boots an' stockin's, Some o' them had nane ava; Some of them had tartan plaidies, Marching to the Broomielaw. |
At an earlier period they had:—
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Wha saw the Cotton-spinners? Wha saw them gaun awa'? Wha saw the Cotton-spinners Sailing frae the Broomielaw? Some o' them had boots an' stockin's, Some o' them had nane ava; Some o' them had umbrellas For to keep the rain awa'. |
There are many similar entertainments which these suggest. But to follow in extent the out-door rhymes of the bairns would carry us beyond the prescribed limits of this chapter. None have been cited, so far, that do not belong absolutely to the nursery; and the collection of these even, though fairly ample, is not so full as it might be. We will conclude with a few, each of which forms a puzzle or conundrum—some of them, in all conscience, gruesome enough, and full of terrible mystery—but, individually, well calculated to awaken thought and stir imagination in any youthful circle.
The use of doggerel rhymes by children in playing their out-of-door games, to decide by the last word which of their number shall be "it" or "takkie," in games like "Hide and Seek" and "I Spy," must be familiar to every reader who has had any youth worthy of being so called. What is not well known, however, is the fact that some of them—the rhymes, I mean—that very common one in particular, beginning—"One-ery, two-ery, tickery, seven," and its fellow in like respect, with the opening line—"Eeny, meeny, manny, mo"—have, in almost identical form, been in active use by the wee folks for hundreds of years, as they are still, in nearly every country of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. That the pastime has been common among the children of civilized and semi-civilized races alike is certainly of curious interest, and yet investigation has proved this to be the case. Not only so, but the form of use is nearly always identical. A leader, as a rule self-appointed, having engaged the attention of the boys and girls about to join in a proposed game, arranges them either in a row or in a circle around him. He then repeats the rhyme, fast or slow, as he is capable or disposed, pointing with the hand or forefinger to each child in succession, not forgetting himself, and allotting to each one word of the mysterious formula. It may be, for example:—
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Eeny, meeny, manny, mo, Catch a nigger by the toe; When he hollers, let him go, Eeny, meeny, manny, mo. |
Having completed the verse, the child on whom the last word falls is said to be "out," and steps aside. At each repetition one in like manner steps aside, and the one who survives the ordeal until all the rest have been "chapped" or "titted" out is declared "it" or "takkie," and the game proceeds forthwith. Sometimes the formula employed in certain parts of Scotland, as I recollect, was for each boy to insert his finger into the leader's cap, around which all the company stood. The master of the ceremonies then with his finger allotted a word to each "finger in the pie." It might be:—
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Eenity, feenity, fickety, feg, El, del, domen, egg, Irky, birky, story, rock, Ann, Dan, Toosh, Jock. |
With the pronouncement of the word "Jock," the M.C.'s finger came down with a whack which made the one "chapped out" be withdrawn in a "hunder hurries." In some parts of America a peculiar method obtains. The alphabet is repeated by the leader, who assigns one letter to each child in the group, and when a letter falls to a child which is the same as the initial of his last name, that child falls out, and this is continued, observing the same plan, until only one child remains, who is "it." There are other forms, too, but none strikingly dissimilar. Where the little ones have been in haste to proceed with the game, and in no mood to waste time in counting out each one to the last, they have taken the sharper process of saying—
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Red, white, yellow, blue, All out but you, |
and by the first reading fixed the relationship of parties.
Now, a very important and interesting feature of these rhymes and their application, as I have said, is found in the fact that they prevail in a more or less identical form all over the world. When this is so, their common origin is placed almost beyond dispute. The question only, which perhaps no one can answer, is—Whence come they? It would not be hazarding too much to say, I think, that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in their turn as boys, with other boys of their time, each used a form of counting-out rhyme in the manner and for the purpose for which they are still in vogue by the boys and girls of the present day. Undoubtedly they found a precedent, if they did not actually themselves exercise a part, in the very ancient custom of casting lots, which prevailed among the heathen as well as among the chosen people of God in very early times. From sacred history we learn that lots were used to decide measures to be taken in battle; to select champions in individual contests; to determine the partition of conquered or colonised lands; in the division of spoil; in the appointment of Magistrates and other functionaries; in the assignment of priestly offices; and in criminal investigations, when doubt existed as to the real culprit. Among the Israelites, indeed, the casting of lots was divinely ordained as a method of ascertaining the Holy will, and its use on many interesting occasions is described in the Holy Scriptures. The simplicity of the process, and its unanswerable result, were appreciated by Solomon, who says: "The lot causeth contentions to cease, and parteth between the mighty" (Prov. xviii. 18). In New Testament times, again, Matthias was chosen by lot to "take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas fell away" (Acts i. 24-26). The Babylonians, when about to wage war against another nation, were wont to determine which city should be attacked first by casting lots in a peculiar manner. The names of the cities were written on arrows. These were shaken in a bag, and the one drawn decided the matter (see Ezekiel xxi. 21-22). A like method of divination, called belomany, was current among the Arabians before Mahomet's rise, though it was afterwards prohibited by the Koran. By imitation of their elders, to which children are constantly prone—in the making of "housies," in nursing of dolls, etc. etc.—doubtless there came the counting-out rhyme. What is not so easily understood is their existence in so many identical forms in so many widely distant lands. As an example of how cosmopolitan some of them are, let us track a familiar enough one for a fair distance and see how it appears in the national garb of the various countries in which it has found bed, board, and biding. All over Britain and America it goes:—
In Germany it is found in various forms, but one will suffice:—
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1, 2, Polizei, 3, 4, Offizier, 5, 6, Alte Hex, 7, 8, Gute Nacht, 9, 10, Auf Wiedersehen, 11, 12, Junge Wölf, 13, 14, Blaue Schürzen, 15, 16, Alte Hexen, 17, 18, Mädle Wachsen, 19, 20, Gott Verdanzig. |
In France it also appears in various forms, and the children of Paris, not disposed to waste time and energy, cut it briefly, as follows:—
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Un, deux, trois, Tu ne l'es pas, Quatre, cinq, six, Va t'en d'ici. |
In Italy a form goes:—
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Pan uno, pan duo, Pan tre, pan quattro, Pan cinque, pan sei, Pan sette, pan otto, Pancotto! |
And versions, all revealing a common origin, might be quoted in the languages of many more countries, but we can employ our space to better purpose. With regard to the rhyme already quoted, beginning, "Eenity, feenity, fickety, feg," it has been asked whether the second line, "El, del, domen, egg," would not warrant the conclusion that it sprang into existence on the streets, and among the children, of Ancient Rome. Perhaps it did; for who may say it did not? There is that very common one all over Scotland, which, it will be remembered, that wonderful child, Marjorie Fleming, played off on Sir Walter Scott:—
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One-ery, two-ery, tickery, seven, Alibi, crackaby, ten and eleven; Pin, pan, musky dan; Tweedle-um, twoddle-um, twenty-one; Eerie, orie, ourie. You are out! |
A similar formula, only in slightly varying words, is found in the folk-lore of almost every country in the world. Commenting on the opening line, the late Mr. Charles G. Leland, author of the Hans Breitmann ballads, and an acknowledged authority on the language and customs of the Eastern Gypsies, sets against it a Romany stanza, used as a spell, beginning:—
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Ekkeri, akai-ri, you kiar-an, |
and remarks that "Ekkeri, akai-ri," literally translated, just gives the familiar "One-ery, two-ery," which is etymologically analogous to "Hickory, dickory," in the all-pervading nursery rhyme:—
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Hickory, dickory, dock, The mouse ran up the clock; The clock struck one, and down the mouse ran, Hickory, dickory, dock. |
An American version of which, by the bye, goes:—
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Hiddlety, diddlety, dumpty, The cat ran up the plum tree; Half-a-crown to fetch her down, Hiddlety, diddlety, dumpty. |
But still, before leaving the familiar chapping-out rhyme of Marjorie Fleming, let us see how it occurs again in Scotland and among the children of some of the other English-speaking nations, to go no further. Charles Taylor, in the Magpie; or Chatterings of the Pica, published at Glasgow in 1820, gives it thus:—
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Anery, twaery, duckery, seven, Alama, crack, ten am eleven; Peem, pom, it must be done, Come teetle, come total, come twenty-one; |
and remarks:—"This is reported to have originated with the Druids; the total number of words is twenty-one, and it seems to be a mixture of words put into rhyme." In the streets and lanes and open spaces of Aberdeen it runs:—
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Enery, twa-ery, tuckery, taven, Halaba, crackery, ten or eleven; Peen, pan, musky dan, Feedelam, Fadelam, twenty-one. |
In the county of Wexford, in Ireland, it goes:—
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One-ery, two-ery, dickery, Davy, Hallabone, crackabone, tenery, Navy; Discome, dandy, merry-come-tine, Humbledy, bumbledy, twenty-nine, O-U-T, out. You must go out! |
In the Midlands of England:—
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One-ery, two-ery, dickery, dee, Halibo, crackibo, dandilee; Pin, pan, muskee dan, Twiddledum, twaddledum, twenty-one; Black fish, white trout, Eeny, meeny, you go out. |
In Massachusetts, U.S., America:—
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Ena, deena, dina, dust, Catler, wheeler, whiler, whust; Spin, spon, must be done, Twiddleum, twaddleum, twenty-one. |
In the island of Guernsey:—
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Eena, deena, dina, duss, Catalaweena, wina, wuss; Tittle, tattle, what a rattle, O-U-T spells out! |
Another Scotch version:—
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One-ery, two-ery, tickery, ten, Bobs of vinegar, gentlemen; A bird in the air, a fish in the sea; A bonnie wee lassie come singing to thee. One, two, three! |