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The Real Mother Goose
For nearly a century, The Real Mother Goose has delighted young children! For more than seventy-five years THE REAL MOTHER GOOSE has been delighting millions of children, and today the magic is as strong as ever. Heralded as the "standard" Mother Goose by parents, grandparents, teachers, and librarians, this wonderful book with Blanche Fisher Wright's lively, colorful pictures makes an enchanting introduction for the very young.Mother Goose rhymes are a vital part of childhood. And this collection of essential rhymes have been reproduced exactly as they have been repeated from generation to generation.
128 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1916
348 people are currently reading
4,306 people want to read
About the author
Blanche Fisher Wright
48 books16 followersBlanche Fisher Wright (1887 – 1938) was a children's book illustrator active in the 1910s. She is best known for illustrating The Real Mother Goose, published in 1916.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 388 reviews
July 10, 2019
My sister was given this book when we were little. I’m pretty sure it’s at the house still. Or maybe she took it for my niece. Either way, you can bet I read it a lot too. I was the bookish one. Just because it wasn’t mine didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna read it !! Haha. Right you guys ?!
October 14, 2018
The Real Mother Goose may not include my favorite kids’ rhyme to teach college freshmen. Many memorize it at first hearing:
“Little Robin Redbreast
Sitting on a pole—
Niddle noddle went his head
And poop went his hole.”
That was printed in early Mother Goose books in England, but maybe suppressed (like Sir John Suckling’s “Love is the fart / Of every heart,” 1646) until unearthed in the last few decades.
Speaking of England, these have a distinctly British accent, like "Little Robin Redbreast": that's the British bird, very small, while the American Robin is good-sized for a songbird. And "Itsy, bitsy spider went up the garden spout": it's the outdoor yard spout--the British word for "yard" is "garden." And there are more, yet we consider them American nursery rhymes.
I wonder how many kids learn Mother Goose now, maybe fewer than when I read ‘em to my kids four decades ago, though of course I’d learned dozens as a kid, and maybe now many learn from parents who also learned by hearing, not reading. Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep, Little Boy Blue come blow your horn, and especially,
“Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day,
Little Johnny wants to play.”
I say this in the rainy aftermath of Hurricane Michael on our south New England coast. Lots about shepherd kids and their sheep, some about pigs (and "This little piggy"), and of course much about field and hills,
“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.”
Maybe this one needs revision; it suggests females can not avoid males’ calamities. I’m quite sure as a kid my sense of Jack’s broken crown was in fact a diadem, not a brain hemorrhage.
Besides rural geography, there’s many food references, like
“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,
Baker’s man.
Bake me a cake
As fast as you can.
Pat it, and prick it,
And mark it with T.
Put it in the oven
For Tommy and me.”
But the most comprehensive dietary assessment,
“Jack Sprat could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean;
And so, betwixt them both,
They licked the platter clean.”
Debates about the health of fat or meat go back at least to the Renaissance, and Robert Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy— which dicusses the effect of meat on depression (the Renaissance word for it, in the title).
Some are satires on cuteness, like “There was a little girl/ Who had a little curl,/ Right in the middle of her forehead./ When she was good, /She was very, very good;/ But when she was bad, she was horrid.” Longfellow wrote that, and the little curly girl strikes up an upstairs fit her mom mistakes for the boys’ fighting.
Then there's the astronomical ones, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star...like a diamond in the sky." Romeo tells us Juliet's eyes would be brighter than the fairest stars. But we are still on the nursery level about stars, "How I wonder what you are, / Up above the world so high...." And the meteorological ones, "Itsy, bitsy spider/ Went up the garden spout./ Down came the rain and/ Washed the spider out.// Out came the sun and/ Dried up all the rain./ The itsy, bitsy spider / Climbed up the spout again."
Many of the rhymes urge kids into athletic or physical skills, “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,/ Jack jump over the Candle-stick.” Wonder what kids make of this if they’ve never seen a candlestick—or, implied in the verse, a candle in it, unless it’s a very tall candle-holder, which the past did feature.
“Little Robin Redbreast
Sitting on a pole—
Niddle noddle went his head
And poop went his hole.”
That was printed in early Mother Goose books in England, but maybe suppressed (like Sir John Suckling’s “Love is the fart / Of every heart,” 1646) until unearthed in the last few decades.
Speaking of England, these have a distinctly British accent, like "Little Robin Redbreast": that's the British bird, very small, while the American Robin is good-sized for a songbird. And "Itsy, bitsy spider went up the garden spout": it's the outdoor yard spout--the British word for "yard" is "garden." And there are more, yet we consider them American nursery rhymes.
I wonder how many kids learn Mother Goose now, maybe fewer than when I read ‘em to my kids four decades ago, though of course I’d learned dozens as a kid, and maybe now many learn from parents who also learned by hearing, not reading. Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep, Little Boy Blue come blow your horn, and especially,
“Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day,
Little Johnny wants to play.”
I say this in the rainy aftermath of Hurricane Michael on our south New England coast. Lots about shepherd kids and their sheep, some about pigs (and "This little piggy"), and of course much about field and hills,
“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.”
Maybe this one needs revision; it suggests females can not avoid males’ calamities. I’m quite sure as a kid my sense of Jack’s broken crown was in fact a diadem, not a brain hemorrhage.
Besides rural geography, there’s many food references, like
“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,
Baker’s man.
Bake me a cake
As fast as you can.
Pat it, and prick it,
And mark it with T.
Put it in the oven
For Tommy and me.”
But the most comprehensive dietary assessment,
“Jack Sprat could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean;
And so, betwixt them both,
They licked the platter clean.”
Debates about the health of fat or meat go back at least to the Renaissance, and Robert Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy— which dicusses the effect of meat on depression (the Renaissance word for it, in the title).
Some are satires on cuteness, like “There was a little girl/ Who had a little curl,/ Right in the middle of her forehead./ When she was good, /She was very, very good;/ But when she was bad, she was horrid.” Longfellow wrote that, and the little curly girl strikes up an upstairs fit her mom mistakes for the boys’ fighting.
Then there's the astronomical ones, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star...like a diamond in the sky." Romeo tells us Juliet's eyes would be brighter than the fairest stars. But we are still on the nursery level about stars, "How I wonder what you are, / Up above the world so high...." And the meteorological ones, "Itsy, bitsy spider/ Went up the garden spout./ Down came the rain and/ Washed the spider out.// Out came the sun and/ Dried up all the rain./ The itsy, bitsy spider / Climbed up the spout again."
Many of the rhymes urge kids into athletic or physical skills, “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,/ Jack jump over the Candle-stick.” Wonder what kids make of this if they’ve never seen a candlestick—or, implied in the verse, a candle in it, unless it’s a very tall candle-holder, which the past did feature.
Read
June 25, 20191. The Real Mother Goose
This is the first review in a new project that I am undertaking. Now that I've passed my 53rd birthday, I've likely passed the milestone of 50 years as a reader. I don't remember a time when I didn't "read," whether that means that I could merely repeat the words on the pages myself, from memory, or I was devouring The Portrait of a Lady next to a swimming pool on my honeymoon. So, over the next 1000 days, give or take, I plan to "review" a book a day, collecting books that have been important to me throughout my life. I'm not rating them, I'm putting them on their own shelf, and, if life gets in the way and I can't find the time, I'll catch up when I can.
These won't be "reviews" in the traditional sense. They will be short, and will reference what the book means to me: if I can remember, the age that I read it, where I was, or why it has stuck with me. I've been a wide reader, and while I've read a share of books that are consistently acknowledged as classics, many of the books that have meaning for me are, to put it charitably, pretty trashy. But that's what makes this project fun.
If you're interested in more of this project, you will be able to find the full project collected at my blog Books Do Furnish A Mind.
This is the first book that I remember reading – my family lore holds that my mother caught me reading Little Boy Blue to my brother when I was around 4 and he was just a baby.
This was the edition that we had, as well. Large, hardbound, but the colors already growing faded with age – I suppose that it’s possible that the book had had an owner prior to me because we were poor in my preschool years. I remember distinctly the checkerboard border around the edge of the book, and how big the book felt spread on my lap as I “read” the rhymes to myself, which means that I had memorized them and could repeat them by rote.
Book 2: A Little Princess
This is the first review in a new project that I am undertaking. Now that I've passed my 53rd birthday, I've likely passed the milestone of 50 years as a reader. I don't remember a time when I didn't "read," whether that means that I could merely repeat the words on the pages myself, from memory, or I was devouring The Portrait of a Lady next to a swimming pool on my honeymoon. So, over the next 1000 days, give or take, I plan to "review" a book a day, collecting books that have been important to me throughout my life. I'm not rating them, I'm putting them on their own shelf, and, if life gets in the way and I can't find the time, I'll catch up when I can.
These won't be "reviews" in the traditional sense. They will be short, and will reference what the book means to me: if I can remember, the age that I read it, where I was, or why it has stuck with me. I've been a wide reader, and while I've read a share of books that are consistently acknowledged as classics, many of the books that have meaning for me are, to put it charitably, pretty trashy. But that's what makes this project fun.
If you're interested in more of this project, you will be able to find the full project collected at my blog Books Do Furnish A Mind.
This is the first book that I remember reading – my family lore holds that my mother caught me reading Little Boy Blue to my brother when I was around 4 and he was just a baby.
This was the edition that we had, as well. Large, hardbound, but the colors already growing faded with age – I suppose that it’s possible that the book had had an owner prior to me because we were poor in my preschool years. I remember distinctly the checkerboard border around the edge of the book, and how big the book felt spread on my lap as I “read” the rhymes to myself, which means that I had memorized them and could repeat them by rote.
Book 2: A Little Princess
July 23, 2015
I have such heart felt memories of reading these poems to my boys. I'm giving it 5 stars for nostalga's sake.
Read
February 23, 2024This is the edition I had as a child and it warmed my heart to find the cover art smiling up at me off the library shelf when I was browsing for something else. Some Mother Goose rhymes never resonated for me (and I firmly disliked some as a child), and I feel some certainly don't age well, yet there's also a reason many have stood the test of time and several of them take me right back to cozy memories of my childhood. I love Blanche Fisher Wright's illustrations in this edition. Originally published in 1916, my grandparents could have read a copy when they were children, and my parents, too -- I couldn't help but feel a bit of reverence as I shared some of my favorite rhymes and illustrations with my own children.
April 4, 2025
I heard old rhymes, and new rhymes, and new verses to old rhymes!
March 20, 2020
All of the wonderful stories we've heard growing up with such charming, old-fashioned pictures!
Ages: 4 - 9
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Ages: 4 - 9
**Like my reviews? Then you should follow me! Because I have hundreds more just like this one. With each review, I provide a Cleanliness Report, mentioning any objectionable content I come across so that parents and/or conscientious readers (like me) can determine beforehand whether they want to read a book or not. Content surprises are super annoying, especially when you’re 100+ pages in, so here’s my attempt to help you avoid that!
So Follow or Friend me here on GoodReads! You’ll see my updates as I’m reading and know which books I’m liking and what I’m not finishing and why. You’ll also be able to utilize my library for looking up titles to see whether the book you’re thinking about reading next has any objectionable content or not. From swear words, to romance, to bad attitudes (in children’s books), I cover it all!
November 20, 2019
I get such a nostalgic feeling when I think of this book. I can remember my parents reading from it when I was a child. It was one of my favorites that I would look at often my Mom used to say. I had to get it for my children and they too loved it, both for the pictures and the rhymes. Now my grandchildren are being fascinated by the book. This book is a gem with great illustrations and most of your favorite nursery rhymes. A true gem.
May 5, 2014
I grew up with this book, and it has a beautiful nostalgia for me. I remember sitting and looking at the pictures before I could really read, and learning to love fairy tales and nursery rhymes from it. Definitely a personal favorite.
January 28, 2016
I have a very old copy of this book, given to me by my grandmother when I was 4 years old. I remember reading it.
December 3, 2016
This was a book that was in my family's home from the older Sibs and and Because I could read I was Reading to Baby Tony EVERY CHANCE I GOT!!!! He simply loved these, Harry Houdini, Grimm's Fairy Tales, Ronald Dahl, Hans Christian Anderson, Charlies Dickens (David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, A Christmas Carol, A Tale Of Two Cites, Great Expectations, and A.A. Milne (*Winnie The Pooh Bear) I remember siting down for HOURS reading and Re-reading these timeless classics over and over again. Our copy of the book is WELL WORN ...Falling apart at the seams ( LITERALLY!!!! ) But I am happy to know he now has the copy and his wife is sharing these stories with his baby....(I'm sure she will fall in love with the stories just like her Dad!!!!!)
So HAPPY My Niece is hearing these Stories and will have them for the rest of her life!!!!!
Who-Ever gave this FANTASTIC book to our Family...... GREAT PICK!!! It has Held up for years and Has been WELL - LOVED!!!!!!
So HAPPY My Niece is hearing these Stories and will have them for the rest of her life!!!!!
Who-Ever gave this FANTASTIC book to our Family...... GREAT PICK!!! It has Held up for years and Has been WELL - LOVED!!!!!!
February 13, 2014
Some of the first rhymes and songs a child hears are Mother Goose. We say them, we sing them to infants
and children, we play "Patty Cake.' Most children I have known know at least one Mother Goose story usually many. The pictures are lovely and small children often just sit and look at the pages. Mother Goose is an excellent way to introduce the language and reading to children.
Learning extention: See how many of the poems the children are familiar with. Form into groups and act out their favorite, example "Hey, Diddle Diddle", while saying the rhymes. Do exercises finding the ryhming words in the different poems.
and children, we play "Patty Cake.' Most children I have known know at least one Mother Goose story usually many. The pictures are lovely and small children often just sit and look at the pages. Mother Goose is an excellent way to introduce the language and reading to children.
Learning extention: See how many of the poems the children are familiar with. Form into groups and act out their favorite, example "Hey, Diddle Diddle", while saying the rhymes. Do exercises finding the ryhming words in the different poems.
August 19, 2019
There’s a reason that only so many nursery rhymes survived to become classics...because most of the others are just mind-numbingly awful. Honestly, if this wasn’t the last book I needed to read to complete a particular reading list challenge, I would have stopped & moved on. I would have given the book only one star (after realizing how much I hate most nursery rhymes), but I gave it a second star because I do give the creators credit for compiling so many and there were a (precious) few in there that I didn’t even realize were nursery rhymes.
November 26, 2018
This was another book that was in my childhood and I can remember it so clearly both since of the checkered cover as well as since it was such a big book. The size hasn't changed but the amount of pages doesn't seem so daunting upon looking back at it.
This is one of those books that is a nice little treasury full of nursery rhymes and riddles. For those who grew up with various rhymes whether it be from Shrek, various variations in books and/or even Wee Sing much of these will be quite familiar to the reader. Others are much lesser known.
Keeping to some of the more original material some of these were quite dark while others aren't what you may recognize right. Collectively they are a bit of a cultural snapshot, especially of a much older England.
The illustrations were beautifully done and classically realistic in many senses. And the subjects for the illustrations weren't just focused on the human characteristics.
What made this an interesting book is that the index can be found in the front. It lists the rhymes and riddles by name followed by an index of the first line for easier access.
All in all this is a truly nice little classic to include in one's reading list if one is interested in this type of subject.
This is one of those books that is a nice little treasury full of nursery rhymes and riddles. For those who grew up with various rhymes whether it be from Shrek, various variations in books and/or even Wee Sing much of these will be quite familiar to the reader. Others are much lesser known.
Keeping to some of the more original material some of these were quite dark while others aren't what you may recognize right. Collectively they are a bit of a cultural snapshot, especially of a much older England.
The illustrations were beautifully done and classically realistic in many senses. And the subjects for the illustrations weren't just focused on the human characteristics.
What made this an interesting book is that the index can be found in the front. It lists the rhymes and riddles by name followed by an index of the first line for easier access.
All in all this is a truly nice little classic to include in one's reading list if one is interested in this type of subject.
June 30, 2018
I got this for a present in a very special occasion, which is why this will always hold a special place in my heart. I did like this, it was cute and I liked the illustrations. That being said, I also felt I'm not the target group for this because I'm not a child anymore and also because I'm not an native English speaker. I haven't heard these when I was a child and thus they don't really take me back to childhood or anything like that. The old English was a bit difficult to understand at times, too. I think some of them have been translated to my native language which is Finnish, though. It might be fun to check them out.
April 28, 2023
reading old nursery rhymes is such an odd experience lol how did they speak like that.
the illustrations were very pretty and it was an easy fun thing to read in addition to my other books!
the illustrations were very pretty and it was an easy fun thing to read in addition to my other books!
November 30, 2023
A classic from my childhood.
October 28, 2019
This is an absolutely adorable collection. I love the illustrations. I had no idea how many of these delightful and often humorous nursery rhymes there are!
March 1, 2018
This book offers classic nursery rhymes to young children. Mother Goose is a timeless story that can be enjoyed for generations. This book introduces a variety of rhyming words and phrases. It is colorful and engaging. Even young children who cannot quite read as yet can enjoy the beautiful illustrations and can be used as a blueprint for early reading skills.
August 25, 2023
#95 on Time Magazine 100 Best Children's books
I've never heard a lot of these. Some that I did had slightly different wording and some others had significantly different wording and some, I know from songs (Christmas is a'comin'...).
Some are so bizarre to me, I wonder where or how they came about.
I apologized to my son for shortchanging him on his education.
I've never heard a lot of these. Some that I did had slightly different wording and some others had significantly different wording and some, I know from songs (Christmas is a'comin'...).
Some are so bizarre to me, I wonder where or how they came about.
I apologized to my son for shortchanging him on his education.
Read
September 17, 2013Category: Mother Goose
Source: Kimmell
This book is full of the Mother Goose rhymes that I am most familiar with. Some of the poems are written with really old world words that some children may struggle with not only pronouncing, but understanding the meaning of. However, there are plenty of other poems that are catchy and easily readable. I really enjoyed the illustrations in this book. They look like someone read one of the poems and interpreted it in a drawing.
I'd have a little fun with this in the class and concentrate on the poem
SWAN
Swan, swan, over the sea;
Swim, swan, swim!
Swan, swan, back again;
Well swum, swan!
I'd use this as an example of a tongue twister. We'd have a class discussion about tongue twisters they may already know and remind them that tongue twisters are a form of poetry. Then I'd have each of the students create an original tongue twister that they'll share with the class.
Source: Kimmell
This book is full of the Mother Goose rhymes that I am most familiar with. Some of the poems are written with really old world words that some children may struggle with not only pronouncing, but understanding the meaning of. However, there are plenty of other poems that are catchy and easily readable. I really enjoyed the illustrations in this book. They look like someone read one of the poems and interpreted it in a drawing.
I'd have a little fun with this in the class and concentrate on the poem
SWAN
Swan, swan, over the sea;
Swim, swan, swim!
Swan, swan, back again;
Well swum, swan!
I'd use this as an example of a tongue twister. We'd have a class discussion about tongue twisters they may already know and remind them that tongue twisters are a form of poetry. Then I'd have each of the students create an original tongue twister that they'll share with the class.
November 12, 2009
This book was originally published in 1916, and there is good reason it is still in circulation today. Fisher Wright’s abundant illustrations of the close to 300 rhymes in this collection are both beautifully done and a great exploration for the little ones of times gone past. The gentle coloring helps to create a soothing look for the eyes, and children will have fun seeing how children of a different era dressed and played. Included are all of the Mother Goose rhymes that children still know today, plus lots that parents and children will have fun hearing for the first time. (Ages infant-6)
September 18, 2010
This is one of my favorites from my childhood, so I had to buy it for my daughter's first Christmas in 1986. It is a treasure that will be shared in my home for a very long time. As a teacher I find more and more students are not familiar with nursery rhymes, which is troubling to me. I try to incorporate them throughout the year, either by just singing them to students or using them as teaching tools. A favorite activity of mine is to have students choose a rhyme and use a thesaurus to change a word. It usually gets quite a few laughs from the students.
March 4, 2013
I truly think the US would be a better place if every child received a copy of this by his/her first birthday. These nursery rhymes are the foundation of cultural literacy, and something we share with Great Britain as well. The rhythm of the little rhymes and the beauty of the language are something parents everywhere should share with their children. When I volunteer at schools, I'm always astonished at how many kids have no idea of this basic legacy of poetry. A must on my book shelf forever.
February 9, 2017
This is literally my favorite book. It has so many nursery rhymes, and they are the older versions, so there is bound to be some surprises. Just remember this when reading to kids. Personally, I don't mind sharing rhymes because they are a piece of history, but if they aren't used to nursery rhymes, or aren't familiar with fantasy movies, then maybe this is the wrong book. I personally love it. I haven't found a nursery rhyme book that has as many nursery rymes in it. I like to listen to them with text to speech as I drift off to sleep.
August 6, 2007
I first read this book when I was in first grade. We were able to donate a book to our school library, and this is the one I was able to donate (with my parents money, of course). I would often take the book out, just to see my name on the book plate. It then became the first book I bought my son when he was born.
December 22, 2018
This is the Real Mother Goose collection of traditional nursery rhymes, originally published in 1916, with original illustrations by Blanche Fisher Wright.
There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.
There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.
May 19, 2012
One of the first books I read over and over again with my boys. Now I'm reading it with my grandchildren.
October 23, 2016
Warning. This review will likely contain some pretty tasteless material because I'm just like that. Also, it's quote long.
So, how can I give five stars to a book about a bunch of silly rhymes? Because it's awesome! I remember enjoying these as a child, but I see most of them in a different light as an adult, especially an adult in the 21st century where some of the subject matter in some of these rhymes is seen in a negative light. Also, some words have different meanings after the passage of several centuries, and boy did I have fun taking those out of their historical context, let me tell you!
My step mother wondered out-loud the other day if there was a nursery rhyme about blackbirds in a pie, and if it had something to do with a thumb and a plum. I was pretty sure they were two different rhymes, so I pulled out this book (I still have my 1982 version from when I was a kid). I solved the mystery, but during my perusal I was highly entertained by some of the things I saw and decided to just reread the whole thing; It was no big deal since it's not much of a time investment even though there are over 300 ditties in it. I'm very glad I made the effort.
First off, who is Mother Goose? Nobody knows. A grave in Boston claims to have the real one, but there's pretty solid evidence that the term was used before that woman was even born. The earliest recorded uses of the term date to the early 17th century. Mother Hubbard is first mentioned in a 1590 writing, and references around it indicate that it was an old tale even then. Some suppose that Mother Goose tales date as far back as the 11th century, but there's no solid evidence for that. At any rate, this book is a collection of the Nursery Rhymes accompanied by sometimes hysterical illustrations by Blanche Fisher Wright originally done in 1916. A lot of stuff in this book is not politically correct, and I shudder to think what might be omitted from the most recent printings. I wonder if Mother Hubbard's dog still smokes, not to mention several other characters?
Let's look at a few. For the remainder of this review I'm going to refer to Mother Goose as a person, and we'll just pretend she is. It's more fun that way. (In an effort to deter confusion, I'm putting my commentary in italics).
There were rhymes that were simply riddles, like this one:
An Icicle
Lives in winter, dies in summer,
And grows with its roots upward!
And imagine my surprise when I found one of the riddles from The Hobbit in here. J. R. R. Tolkien didn't make it up himself! Plagiarizing bastard!
Teeth and Gums
Thirty white horses upon a red hill,
Now they tramp, now they champ, now they stand still.
Some of MG's stuff describes the trials of everyday life. Boy, can I relate to this one!
The Robins
A robin and a robin’s son once went to town to buy a bun.
They couldn’t decide on plum or plain, and so they went back home again.
How many times has that kind of thing happened to me at the video store?
Here's a tale of a man who lives a full life in just under a week, and is the inspiration for a zombie villain in the DC comics universe.
Solomon Grundy
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
This is the end
Of Solomon Grundy.
Isn't there a more pleasant way to teach children the days of the week?
For those of you familiar with Stephen King, or George R. R. Martin, you'll know that neither of them have any trouble killing off their main characters, if not the majority of the population, in their stories. However, both must stand in awe of the homicidal Mother Goose who just flat out offs people with reckless abandon, most of them children. Cases in point:
Three Children on the Ice
Three children sliding on the ice upon a summer’s day,
As it fell out, they all fell in, the rest they ran away.
Oh, had these children been at school, or sliding on dry ground,
Ten thousand pounds to one penny they had not then been drowned.
Ye parents who have children dear and ye, too, who have none,
If you would keep them safe abroad pray keep them safe at home.
Dead kids with some pretty piss-poor friends. They should have heeded the words of Johnny Smith (as portrayed by Christopher Walken) in The Dead Zone when he told us all that "The ICE... is gonna BREAK!!!" To be fair, I suppose there's a moral here: don't be truant.
The Three Sons
There was an old woman had three sons,
Jerry and James and John.
Jerry was hanged, James was drowned,
John was lost and never was found;
And there was an end of her three sons,
Jerry and James and John!
Sometimes genocide is the order of the day, and she just says "Fuck it, I'll kill em all!"
Three Wise Men of Gotham
Three wise men of Gotham went to sea in a bowl;
If the bowl had been stronger my song had been longer.
However, sometimes just saying everyone is dead via hanging or drowning isn't enough. She feels we need more details. But the bitch is subtle. She leaves out the specific details, but offers just enough of a hint to make your mind and imagination do her work for her. This reveals the ultra-violent side of her nature.
The Kilkenny Cats
There were once two cats of Kilkenny.
Each thought there was one cat too many;
So they fought and they fit
And they scratched and they bit,
Till excepting their nails
And the tips of their tails,
Instead of two cats, there weren’t any.
We can only imagine the bloodbath that remained between the nails and tails. But the focal points of the rhymes don't always die. Sometimes they're just injured.
Cry, Baby
Cry, baby, cry,
Put your finger in your eye,
And tell your mother it wasn’t I.
We'll work on that kid psychologically
Sing a Song of Sixpence
Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie!
When the pie was opened the birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish to set before the king?
The king was in his counting-house, counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes;
When down came a blackbird and snapped off her nose.
The Man in our Town
There was a man in our town, and he was wondrous wise,
He jumped into a bramble bush, and scratched out both his eyes;
But when he saw his eyes were out, with all his might and main,
He jumped into another bush, and scratched ‘em in again.
I personally would doubt the wisdom of a man who gouges out his own eyes with a briar bush, but it's reestablished when he finds a way to put them back in with the same instrument.
Humans aren't the only ones damaged in these tales of woe. Animals get it just as badly, and usually at the hands of humans.
Dapple-Gray
I had a little pony, his name was Dapple-gray.
I lent him to a lady to ride a mile away.
She whipped him, she slashed him, she rode him through the mire.
I would not lend my pony now for all the lady’s hire.
That’s All
There was an old woman sat a spinning, and that’s the first beginning.
She had a calf, and that’s half;
She took it by the tail, and threw it over the wall, and that’s all!
I'm sure the young bovine had it coming. It's a wonder PETA hasn't confiscated and burned all these books encouraging the maltreatment of poor, defenseless animals.
Sometimes there are multiple plot lines running in a rhyme.
Heigh-Ho, The Carrion Crow
A carrion crow sat on an oak
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Watching a tailor shape his cloak;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Wife, bring me my old bent bow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
That I may shoot yon carrion crow;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
The tailor he shot, and missed his mark,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
And shot his own sow quite through the heart;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Wife! Bring brandy in a spoon,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
For our old sow is in a swoon;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Here we have attempted aviacide; negligent porcinicide; psychological trauma for the poor tailor who thinks his pig can still be alive after being shot through the heart, and has instead just fainted; and alcoholism when he orders a drink to help him cope with what he's done.
And if teaching children that it's ok to drink over your problems isn't enough, Mother Goose also encourages tobacco use for jobs well done, or even payment for services rendered.
Barber
Barber, barber, shave a pig
How many hairs will make a wig?
Four and twenty; that’s enough.
Give the barber a pinch of snuff.
Tobacco and alcohol not your thing? Fear not. Drugs are also just peachy keen by Mother Goose. This should come as no surprise as she clearly discovered the recipe for Crystal Meth long before it made its appearance in today's society. Obviously she was on it when she wrote her nursery rhymes. I can only assume she didn't share the formula with anyone. That would, at least, explain it's long absence between then and now. Anyway, whlie she was on the hard stuff, she wrote about the amateur herbs.
Old King Cole
Old King Cole was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, and he called for his fiddlers three.
And every fiddler, he had a fine fiddle, and a very fine fiddle had he.
“Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee,” went the fiddlers.
Oh, there’s none so rare as can compare with King Cole and his fiddlers three.
Their ganja so banga they ain't even speaking English after the first toke of the bowl! Well, if violence, death, and substance abuse isn't what you're looking for, then you're STILL in luck. We also have sex! This next one is about a woman who wants nothing to do with anyone unless they're offering their body.
Shall We Go A-Shearing
“Old woman, old woman, shall we go a-shearing?”
“Speak a little louder, sir, I am very thick of hearing.”
“Old woman, old woman, shall I kiss you dearly?”
“Thank you, kind sir, I hear you very clearly.”
Mmmm hmmm. Selective hearing, that is! But not all of Mother Goose's heroines put out.
Where are You Going, My Pretty Maid
“Where are you going, my pretty maid?”
“I’m going a-milking, sir,” she said.
“May I go with you, my pretty maid?”
“You’re kindly welcome, sir,” she said.
“What is your father, my pretty maid?”
“My father’s a farmer, sir,” she said.
“What is your fortune, my pretty maid?”
“My face is my fortune, sir,” she said.
“Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.”
“Nobody asked you, sir,” she said.
Well, he was pretty much just looking for a sugar mommy, and got what he deserved when he was left with the cold shoulder. Mother Goose has one for that situation too.
Myself
As I walked by myself, and talked to myself, myself said unto me;
“Look to thyself, take care of thyself, for nobody cares for thee.”
I answered myself, and said to myself in the selfsame repartee:
“Look to thyself, or not look to thyself, the selfsame thing will be.”
Rejection can sometimes leave a man with a case of blue balls, and now he lives under the threat of a wet dream. Again, Mother Goose comes to the rescue if you're unable to make your own verse detailing how you feel.
Cock-a-doodle-do
Oh, my pretty cock, oh, my handsome cock,
I pray you, do not crow before day.
And your comb shall be made of the very beaten gold,
And your wings of the silver so gray.
Well, what do you expect to be happening in a man's crotch when they're constantly having to listen to children sing smut like this?
Little Pussy
I like little Pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm;
So I’ll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But Pussy and I very gently will play.
Sometimes Mother Goose writes about the hardships of difficult relationships, and offers very viable solutions.
The Pumpkin Eater
Peter, Peter, Pumpkin-eater had a wife and couldn’t keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell, and there he kept her very well.
MG also explores the heart-rending internal strife one feels when exploring an unconventional relationship; unconventional for that day and age, at least.
Why May Not I Love Johnny?
Johnny shall have a new bonnet, and Johnny shall go to the fair,
And Johnny shall have a blue ribbon to tie up his bonny brown hair.
And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny as well as another body?
And here’s a leg for a stocking, and here’s a foot for a shoe,
And he has a kiss for his daddy, and two for his mammy, I trow.
And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny as well as another body?
Well, here's a logic puzzle of Catch 22 proportions. Bonnet? Blue Ribbon? Stocking? You mayn't love Johnny because he's a fag! (It's ok; I can say that because I'm one too). Be the reciter a girl, then Johnny ain't interested in anything she's got. Be the reciter a boy, then both he and Johnny will be roasted on a faggot of sticks as soon as they try to play hide the cannoli. But most of Mother Goose's couples are of the married variety, and sometimes they have children. And when they act up, corporal punishment is the order of the day.
Little Polly Flinders
Little Polly Flinders
Sat among the cinders warming her pretty little toes;
Her mother came and caught her,
Whipped her little daughter for spoiling her nice new clothes.
And the children need not have committed any offense to be the recipient of a beating. Sometimes it's OK to starve and belt them for your own mistakes, such as not making your baby daddy wear a rubber.
There was an Old Woman
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.
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Mother Goose seems to be keen on education, but the punishment for those she deems to be fucking retards follows a different track from a mere switching and incorporates a bit of mental abuse that sets up the child for years of therapy.
Jack Jelf
Little Jack Jelf was put on the shelf because he could not spell “pie”;
When his aunt, Mrs. Grace, saw his sorrowful face, She could not help saying, “Oh, fie!”
And since Master Jelf was put on the shelf because he could not spell “pie,”
Let him stand there so grim, and no more about him, for I wish him a very good-bye!
But it's OK if you suck at math, because evidently Mother Goose did as well. That's quite a relief for she and I are well met on that subject.
Multiplication is Vexation
Multiplication is vexation, Division is as bad.
The rule of Three doth puzzle me, and Practice drives me mad.
Sounds like incentive to quit to me. And while you're not at home doing your math homework, you can be out on the streets being a juvenile delinquent.
Bandy Legs
As I was going to sell my eggs I met a man with bandy legs,
Bandy legs and crooked toes; I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose.
BUT, and this is very important, remember to be a good Christian lest ye be brutalized by a quacker.
Goosey, Goosey, Gander
Goosey, goosey, gander, whither dost thou wander?
Upstairs and 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 down the stairs.
However, retribution is OK. In fact, I saw no sign in any of the nursery rhymes where turning-the-other-cheek was encouraged, or even considered.
Taffy
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 home.
Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow-bone.
I went to Taffy’s house, Taffy was not in.
Taffy came to my house and stole a silver pin.
I went to Taffy’s house, Taffy was in bed.
I took up the marrow-bone and flung it at his head.
And there you have it: Mother Goose in an eggshell. I'll leave you with this last bit. It's not part of this book, but I like it, and this is as good a place as any to put it. Anyway, when I was reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, I was so overawed by his effusively excessive and redundant verbosity that I wondered what some nursery rhymes would look like had he written them. I was inspired to see if I could rewrite one in his style, and I chose "Jack." What follows is the original, then my translation into Hugoese. If you're still reading this thing, thank you for sticking it out to the end. I've had a lot of fun writing this review, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it.
Jack
Jack be nimble,
Jack be quick.
Jack jump over the candlestick.
Simple enough. Take it away, Victor!
Jack, that sprightly soul of infinite jest, be nimble; As nimble as the garden slug is torpid; for in their movements one is spry, the other apathetic; one dances gaily, the other not at all; one moves with the grace and ease of a courtier at his finest at the highlight of an eventing gala, while the other merely lolls and rolls stupidly upon his path.
Jack, yea, that same jester, be quick. Not the quick of a fingernail cuticle, nay, but be quick as the wind. Fly with it, be fast, rapid, curt, snappy, perfunctory, expeditious, immediate, animated, agile, and brisk. Show as much alacrity as I fail to exhibit in this verse, for you are up to the task.
Jack, place your balance upon the balls of your feet, bend your legs at the knees, squat, though not quite to a hunker, and jump! Leap into the air the way a slug never could, and soar over yon candlestick. Take care not to burn your bum, for that would require care of the sort that could be found only by first aid nurses. Show us, you prince of jesters; you king of knaves; you first among fools; you entertainer of the extreme variety how you can fly over the flame, and alight nimbly on the other side of that waxen pole. Oh Jack! Impress us with your duty!
Hugo... Sigh...
-Pierce
So, how can I give five stars to a book about a bunch of silly rhymes? Because it's awesome! I remember enjoying these as a child, but I see most of them in a different light as an adult, especially an adult in the 21st century where some of the subject matter in some of these rhymes is seen in a negative light. Also, some words have different meanings after the passage of several centuries, and boy did I have fun taking those out of their historical context, let me tell you!
My step mother wondered out-loud the other day if there was a nursery rhyme about blackbirds in a pie, and if it had something to do with a thumb and a plum. I was pretty sure they were two different rhymes, so I pulled out this book (I still have my 1982 version from when I was a kid). I solved the mystery, but during my perusal I was highly entertained by some of the things I saw and decided to just reread the whole thing; It was no big deal since it's not much of a time investment even though there are over 300 ditties in it. I'm very glad I made the effort.
First off, who is Mother Goose? Nobody knows. A grave in Boston claims to have the real one, but there's pretty solid evidence that the term was used before that woman was even born. The earliest recorded uses of the term date to the early 17th century. Mother Hubbard is first mentioned in a 1590 writing, and references around it indicate that it was an old tale even then. Some suppose that Mother Goose tales date as far back as the 11th century, but there's no solid evidence for that. At any rate, this book is a collection of the Nursery Rhymes accompanied by sometimes hysterical illustrations by Blanche Fisher Wright originally done in 1916. A lot of stuff in this book is not politically correct, and I shudder to think what might be omitted from the most recent printings. I wonder if Mother Hubbard's dog still smokes, not to mention several other characters?
Let's look at a few. For the remainder of this review I'm going to refer to Mother Goose as a person, and we'll just pretend she is. It's more fun that way. (In an effort to deter confusion, I'm putting my commentary in italics).
There were rhymes that were simply riddles, like this one:
An Icicle
Lives in winter, dies in summer,
And grows with its roots upward!
And imagine my surprise when I found one of the riddles from The Hobbit in here. J. R. R. Tolkien didn't make it up himself! Plagiarizing bastard!
Teeth and Gums
Thirty white horses upon a red hill,
Now they tramp, now they champ, now they stand still.
Some of MG's stuff describes the trials of everyday life. Boy, can I relate to this one!
The Robins
A robin and a robin’s son once went to town to buy a bun.
They couldn’t decide on plum or plain, and so they went back home again.
How many times has that kind of thing happened to me at the video store?
Here's a tale of a man who lives a full life in just under a week, and is the inspiration for a zombie villain in the DC comics universe.
Solomon Grundy
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
This is the end
Of Solomon Grundy.
Isn't there a more pleasant way to teach children the days of the week?
For those of you familiar with Stephen King, or George R. R. Martin, you'll know that neither of them have any trouble killing off their main characters, if not the majority of the population, in their stories. However, both must stand in awe of the homicidal Mother Goose who just flat out offs people with reckless abandon, most of them children. Cases in point:
Three Children on the Ice
Three children sliding on the ice upon a summer’s day,
As it fell out, they all fell in, the rest they ran away.
Oh, had these children been at school, or sliding on dry ground,
Ten thousand pounds to one penny they had not then been drowned.
Ye parents who have children dear and ye, too, who have none,
If you would keep them safe abroad pray keep them safe at home.
Dead kids with some pretty piss-poor friends. They should have heeded the words of Johnny Smith (as portrayed by Christopher Walken) in The Dead Zone when he told us all that "The ICE... is gonna BREAK!!!" To be fair, I suppose there's a moral here: don't be truant.
The Three Sons
There was an old woman had three sons,
Jerry and James and John.
Jerry was hanged, James was drowned,
John was lost and never was found;
And there was an end of her three sons,
Jerry and James and John!
Sometimes genocide is the order of the day, and she just says "Fuck it, I'll kill em all!"
Three Wise Men of Gotham
Three wise men of Gotham went to sea in a bowl;
If the bowl had been stronger my song had been longer.
However, sometimes just saying everyone is dead via hanging or drowning isn't enough. She feels we need more details. But the bitch is subtle. She leaves out the specific details, but offers just enough of a hint to make your mind and imagination do her work for her. This reveals the ultra-violent side of her nature.
The Kilkenny Cats
There were once two cats of Kilkenny.
Each thought there was one cat too many;
So they fought and they fit
And they scratched and they bit,
Till excepting their nails
And the tips of their tails,
Instead of two cats, there weren’t any.
We can only imagine the bloodbath that remained between the nails and tails. But the focal points of the rhymes don't always die. Sometimes they're just injured.
Cry, Baby
Cry, baby, cry,
Put your finger in your eye,
And tell your mother it wasn’t I.
We'll work on that kid psychologically
Sing a Song of Sixpence
Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie!
When the pie was opened the birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish to set before the king?
The king was in his counting-house, counting out his money;
The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes;
When down came a blackbird and snapped off her nose.
The Man in our Town
There was a man in our town, and he was wondrous wise,
He jumped into a bramble bush, and scratched out both his eyes;
But when he saw his eyes were out, with all his might and main,
He jumped into another bush, and scratched ‘em in again.
I personally would doubt the wisdom of a man who gouges out his own eyes with a briar bush, but it's reestablished when he finds a way to put them back in with the same instrument.
Humans aren't the only ones damaged in these tales of woe. Animals get it just as badly, and usually at the hands of humans.
Dapple-Gray
I had a little pony, his name was Dapple-gray.
I lent him to a lady to ride a mile away.
She whipped him, she slashed him, she rode him through the mire.
I would not lend my pony now for all the lady’s hire.
That’s All
There was an old woman sat a spinning, and that’s the first beginning.
She had a calf, and that’s half;
She took it by the tail, and threw it over the wall, and that’s all!
I'm sure the young bovine had it coming. It's a wonder PETA hasn't confiscated and burned all these books encouraging the maltreatment of poor, defenseless animals.
Sometimes there are multiple plot lines running in a rhyme.
Heigh-Ho, The Carrion Crow
A carrion crow sat on an oak
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Watching a tailor shape his cloak;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Wife, bring me my old bent bow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
That I may shoot yon carrion crow;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
The tailor he shot, and missed his mark,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
And shot his own sow quite through the heart;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Wife! Bring brandy in a spoon,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
For our old sow is in a swoon;
Sing heigh-ho, the carrion crow,
Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do!
Here we have attempted aviacide; negligent porcinicide; psychological trauma for the poor tailor who thinks his pig can still be alive after being shot through the heart, and has instead just fainted; and alcoholism when he orders a drink to help him cope with what he's done.
And if teaching children that it's ok to drink over your problems isn't enough, Mother Goose also encourages tobacco use for jobs well done, or even payment for services rendered.
Barber
Barber, barber, shave a pig
How many hairs will make a wig?
Four and twenty; that’s enough.
Give the barber a pinch of snuff.
Tobacco and alcohol not your thing? Fear not. Drugs are also just peachy keen by Mother Goose. This should come as no surprise as she clearly discovered the recipe for Crystal Meth long before it made its appearance in today's society. Obviously she was on it when she wrote her nursery rhymes. I can only assume she didn't share the formula with anyone. That would, at least, explain it's long absence between then and now. Anyway, whlie she was on the hard stuff, she wrote about the amateur herbs.
Old King Cole
Old King Cole was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, and he called for his fiddlers three.
And every fiddler, he had a fine fiddle, and a very fine fiddle had he.
“Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee,” went the fiddlers.
Oh, there’s none so rare as can compare with King Cole and his fiddlers three.
Their ganja so banga they ain't even speaking English after the first toke of the bowl! Well, if violence, death, and substance abuse isn't what you're looking for, then you're STILL in luck. We also have sex! This next one is about a woman who wants nothing to do with anyone unless they're offering their body.
Shall We Go A-Shearing
“Old woman, old woman, shall we go a-shearing?”
“Speak a little louder, sir, I am very thick of hearing.”
“Old woman, old woman, shall I kiss you dearly?”
“Thank you, kind sir, I hear you very clearly.”
Mmmm hmmm. Selective hearing, that is! But not all of Mother Goose's heroines put out.
Where are You Going, My Pretty Maid
“Where are you going, my pretty maid?”
“I’m going a-milking, sir,” she said.
“May I go with you, my pretty maid?”
“You’re kindly welcome, sir,” she said.
“What is your father, my pretty maid?”
“My father’s a farmer, sir,” she said.
“What is your fortune, my pretty maid?”
“My face is my fortune, sir,” she said.
“Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.”
“Nobody asked you, sir,” she said.
Well, he was pretty much just looking for a sugar mommy, and got what he deserved when he was left with the cold shoulder. Mother Goose has one for that situation too.
Myself
As I walked by myself, and talked to myself, myself said unto me;
“Look to thyself, take care of thyself, for nobody cares for thee.”
I answered myself, and said to myself in the selfsame repartee:
“Look to thyself, or not look to thyself, the selfsame thing will be.”
Rejection can sometimes leave a man with a case of blue balls, and now he lives under the threat of a wet dream. Again, Mother Goose comes to the rescue if you're unable to make your own verse detailing how you feel.
Cock-a-doodle-do
Oh, my pretty cock, oh, my handsome cock,
I pray you, do not crow before day.
And your comb shall be made of the very beaten gold,
And your wings of the silver so gray.
Well, what do you expect to be happening in a man's crotch when they're constantly having to listen to children sing smut like this?
Little Pussy
I like little Pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm;
So I’ll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But Pussy and I very gently will play.
Sometimes Mother Goose writes about the hardships of difficult relationships, and offers very viable solutions.
The Pumpkin Eater
Peter, Peter, Pumpkin-eater had a wife and couldn’t keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell, and there he kept her very well.
MG also explores the heart-rending internal strife one feels when exploring an unconventional relationship; unconventional for that day and age, at least.
Why May Not I Love Johnny?
Johnny shall have a new bonnet, and Johnny shall go to the fair,
And Johnny shall have a blue ribbon to tie up his bonny brown hair.
And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny as well as another body?
And here’s a leg for a stocking, and here’s a foot for a shoe,
And he has a kiss for his daddy, and two for his mammy, I trow.
And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny as well as another body?
Well, here's a logic puzzle of Catch 22 proportions. Bonnet? Blue Ribbon? Stocking? You mayn't love Johnny because he's a fag! (It's ok; I can say that because I'm one too). Be the reciter a girl, then Johnny ain't interested in anything she's got. Be the reciter a boy, then both he and Johnny will be roasted on a faggot of sticks as soon as they try to play hide the cannoli. But most of Mother Goose's couples are of the married variety, and sometimes they have children. And when they act up, corporal punishment is the order of the day.
Little Polly Flinders
Little Polly Flinders
Sat among the cinders warming her pretty little toes;
Her mother came and caught her,
Whipped her little daughter for spoiling her nice new clothes.
And the children need not have committed any offense to be the recipient of a beating. Sometimes it's OK to starve and belt them for your own mistakes, such as not making your baby daddy wear a rubber.
There was an Old Woman
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.
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Mother Goose seems to be keen on education, but the punishment for those she deems to be fucking retards follows a different track from a mere switching and incorporates a bit of mental abuse that sets up the child for years of therapy.
Jack Jelf
Little Jack Jelf was put on the shelf because he could not spell “pie”;
When his aunt, Mrs. Grace, saw his sorrowful face, She could not help saying, “Oh, fie!”
And since Master Jelf was put on the shelf because he could not spell “pie,”
Let him stand there so grim, and no more about him, for I wish him a very good-bye!
But it's OK if you suck at math, because evidently Mother Goose did as well. That's quite a relief for she and I are well met on that subject.
Multiplication is Vexation
Multiplication is vexation, Division is as bad.
The rule of Three doth puzzle me, and Practice drives me mad.
Sounds like incentive to quit to me. And while you're not at home doing your math homework, you can be out on the streets being a juvenile delinquent.
Bandy Legs
As I was going to sell my eggs I met a man with bandy legs,
Bandy legs and crooked toes; I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose.
BUT, and this is very important, remember to be a good Christian lest ye be brutalized by a quacker.
Goosey, Goosey, Gander
Goosey, goosey, gander, whither dost thou wander?
Upstairs and 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 down the stairs.
However, retribution is OK. In fact, I saw no sign in any of the nursery rhymes where turning-the-other-cheek was encouraged, or even considered.
Taffy
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 home.
Taffy came to my house and stole a marrow-bone.
I went to Taffy’s house, Taffy was not in.
Taffy came to my house and stole a silver pin.
I went to Taffy’s house, Taffy was in bed.
I took up the marrow-bone and flung it at his head.
And there you have it: Mother Goose in an eggshell. I'll leave you with this last bit. It's not part of this book, but I like it, and this is as good a place as any to put it. Anyway, when I was reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, I was so overawed by his effusively excessive and redundant verbosity that I wondered what some nursery rhymes would look like had he written them. I was inspired to see if I could rewrite one in his style, and I chose "Jack." What follows is the original, then my translation into Hugoese. If you're still reading this thing, thank you for sticking it out to the end. I've had a lot of fun writing this review, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it.
Jack
Jack be nimble,
Jack be quick.
Jack jump over the candlestick.
Simple enough. Take it away, Victor!
Jack, that sprightly soul of infinite jest, be nimble; As nimble as the garden slug is torpid; for in their movements one is spry, the other apathetic; one dances gaily, the other not at all; one moves with the grace and ease of a courtier at his finest at the highlight of an eventing gala, while the other merely lolls and rolls stupidly upon his path.
Jack, yea, that same jester, be quick. Not the quick of a fingernail cuticle, nay, but be quick as the wind. Fly with it, be fast, rapid, curt, snappy, perfunctory, expeditious, immediate, animated, agile, and brisk. Show as much alacrity as I fail to exhibit in this verse, for you are up to the task.
Jack, place your balance upon the balls of your feet, bend your legs at the knees, squat, though not quite to a hunker, and jump! Leap into the air the way a slug never could, and soar over yon candlestick. Take care not to burn your bum, for that would require care of the sort that could be found only by first aid nurses. Show us, you prince of jesters; you king of knaves; you first among fools; you entertainer of the extreme variety how you can fly over the flame, and alight nimbly on the other side of that waxen pole. Oh Jack! Impress us with your duty!
Hugo... Sigh...
-Pierce
March 5, 2015
They picked a pretty creepy way to represent Mother Goose. Apparently she's tiny, or steals enormous babies and rides a giant goose? I do like these illustrations, but they do begin to look very samey after a while. And Kaion has a point: they ALL have feverishly rosy cheeks.
Little Bo-Peep: so her sheep wondered away and then were mutilated and had their tales removed?
Little Boy Blue: slacking on the job.
Rain: I'd say the opposite for CA. Rain, Rain, come our way.
The Clock: I've got too many smart-ass comments.
Winter: what is this "snow" you speak of?
Finger and Toes: Is this a riddle? Because I'm not THAT bad a math.
A Seasonable Song: say "hot" one more goddamn time!
Dame Trot and her Cat: I feel like there is masturbation innuendo in here somewhere.
Three Children on the Ice: hide yo' kids, because they drowning everybody out there.
Cross Patch: I guess to show them your nice work? Or to share a drink?
The Old Woman Under the Hill: blows my mind.
Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee: politics in a nutshell.
Oh, Dear!: I want to know more about these ladies and why they ended up in that tree. And why one stayed there?
Old Mother Goose: SYNONYMS!
Little Jumping Joan: So no one is ever with you? Or is the always modifying the...oh, forget it.
Pat-a-cake: mmm. cake.
Money and the Mare: money makes the world go round.
Robin Rebreast: did he forget he could fly for a moment?
A Melancholy Song: victim blaming. Not cool.
Jack: I know this one from the American Pie song!
Going to St. Ives: no more riddles!
Thirty Days Hath September: well, that's useful to know.
Baby Dolly: bribe your dollies into behaving!
Bees: I don't get it.
Come Out to Play: encouraging the children to run away from home? Or was there some sort of night festival?
If Wishes Were Horses: I see now.
To Market: that seems inefficient, but maybe the market is very close by?
Old Chairs to Mend: if wishes were horses.
Robin and Richard: and Richard is all -- why can't you get up first, since you're awake enough to bother me?
A Man and a Maid: basically she's like -- you don't have the money to support a wife! So no.
Here Goes my Lord: are they all horses?
The Clever Hen: SORCERY!
Two Birds: 29 bottles of beer on the wall, 29 bottles of beeeeeer!
Leg Over Leg: so a stile is an arrangement of steps that lets people go over fences, but not animals. And here this dog went over a stile.
Lucky Locket: did Kitty or someone else steal the contents, or was the purse empty to begin with?
When Jenny Wren was Young: because she's a bird.
Barber: what?
The Flying Pig: so the mice aren't the only ones to have the word "dickory" associated with them.
Solomon Grundy: presumably with the interval of some years between most of those events.
Hush-A-Bye: this turned dark fast.
Burnie Bee: k.
Three Wise Men of Gotham: there is a Russian version of this, identical except we don't know where the wise men were from.
The Hunter of Reigate: I thought something dramatic would happen, but it didn't.
Little Polly Flinders: how dare you be warm and not catch pneumonia!
Ride Away, Ride Away: the cat and the dog might have other ideas.
Pippen Hill: like, in a prostitution way, or in a dating way?
Pussy-cat and Queen: another one I've encountered in Russian.
The Winds: ?
Clap Handies: is this English?
Christmas: N/A
Elizabeth: because it's all the same girl.
Just Like Me: psych?
Play Days: so, a week and a half.
Heigh-Ho, the Carrion Crow: first of all, they use "lol." Second of all, it's dead, you moron!
A B C: what about the rest of the alphabet?
A Needle and Thread: but it gives away the answer in the title!
Banbury Cross: in the picture she doesn't look old at all.
The Man in Our Town: ooook....
Georgy Porgy: what a dick Georgy is.
For Every Evil: that's not helpful.
Cushy Cow: I don't think the cow will be very tempted by your offerings.
Wee Willie Winkie: he better be like, a magical creature or a small crazy child...not that those two options aren't weird.
About the Bush: unless you have bee allergies.
See-saw: ...
Robin-a-bobbin: so he sucks.
John Smith: I got nothing.
Simple Simon: poor guy.
Three Blind Mice: that's just cruel, lady.
Five Toes: and they were all eaten by various people and animals.
A Little Man: lucky drake.
Doctor Foster: screw those people and their bad roads! Or alternatively he got pneumonia and died.
Diddle Diddle Dumpling: John had a busy day?
Jerry Hall: did it? THAT would be a story.
Lengthening Days: I wish.
The Black Hen: but not for ladies?
The Mist: it's another riddle.
A Candle: seriously, stop giving it away in the title!
Miss Muffet: spiders are pretty startling.
Curly-locks: because I'm rich, is why.
Humpty Dumpty: I read somewhere that he should have gotten a second opinion from all Queen's mares and all the Queen's ladies.
One, Two, Three: so it was a piranha.
The Dove With the Wren: ladies? Eggs? What?
Master I Have: all I got is that he needs to get marries ASAP.
Pins: good to know. I heard the same about a penny.
Shall we go A-shearing?: selective hearing is useful.
Goosey, Goosey, Gander: I had a duck wonder into my room once. And is the old man a bug or animal of some sort?
Old Mother Hubbard: she has an anthropomorphic, clothes-wearing, dancing dog. How useful.
The Cock and the Hen: well...yes, I'm about 5 years old.
Blue Bell Boy: that's what you get for naming him Blue Bell.
Why May Not I Love Johnny: the picture assures me this is a song a mom or a nanny sings to their kid.
Jack Jelf: that's what you get when your last name rhymes with "shelf."
Jack Sprat: I read the Jasper Fforde book where his wife had passed away because of all the fat she ate (heart problems, I think), and he remarried and was a detective.
Hush-a-bye: I intend to interpret this as having some sort of innuendo about how much sex the dad is or is not getting.
Daffodils: flowers!
The Girl in the Lane: and then what?
Hush-a-bye: there are many of those. The dad is like: I have no idea what to do if you cry, so PLEASE be quiet until your mom returns.
Nancy Dawson: she was lazy? Is that what's happening?
Handy Pandy: candy.
Jack and Jill: ouch. But what about Jill? Was she OK?
The Alphabet: I think it's easier to just memorize the alphabet.
Dance to your Daddie: dad's a fisherman.
One Misty Moisty Morning: I hope she wasn't as young as the illustration makes her out to be.
Robin Hood and Little John: Robin is worries John won't come back?
Rain: no, do, do come back! COME BACK!
The Old Woman From France: your children suck at dancing.
Teeth and Gums: spoiler alert.
The Robins: they should have flipped a coin.
The Old Man: old ass can't even pay for services rendered.
T'other Little Tune: I'll be free from gender stereotypes, but I'll marry this fiddler, because actually we both love music and not people.
My Kitten: kittens are fluffy.
If all the Seas Were One Sea: what about the one great woman? And the one great whale in the one great sea? Like, who decides who gets to combine into one huge monster thing and who doesn't?
Pancake Day: I prefer pie.
A Plum Pudding: I'll take the pudding instead.
Forehead, Eyes, Cheeks, Nose, Mouth and Chin: should have names this one "Here Sits the Lord Mayor." Not like they have official titles.
Two Pigeons: because they hated you Margery, and your food.
A Sure Test: feelings are for girls, and you're a MAN!
Lock and Key: I see what you did there.
The Lion and the Unicorn: just leave, you weird beasts.
The Merchants of London: that's because they have money.
I Had a Little Husband: I shudder to guess.
To Babylon: stardust?
I'll Tell You a Story: not much of a story.
A Strange Old Woman: she probably stole those victuals from the little frightened boy in the illustration.
Sleep, Baby, Sleep: because mommy wants to take a nap, so please just sleep already.
Cry, Baby: the opposite of the above?
Baa, Baa, Clack Sheep: so who'll get the third bag?
Little Fred: and then read comic books all night long.
The Cat and the Fiddle: someone was taking all of the drugs.
Doctor Fell: that's because he's dead of pneumonia from that other song, so he's actually a ghost.
A Counting-out Rhyme: que?
Jack and his Fiddle: is Jack the fiddler whom the person who wouldn't be their dad's daughter nor son wanted to marry?
Buttons: I do like buttons.
Hot Boiled Beans: OK.
Little Pussy: if this isn't a masturbation song, then I don't know anything about anything anymore.
Sing a Song of Sixpence: can't help but think of Ms. Marple.
Tommy Tittlemouse: so he was a thief.
The Derby Ram: that's some ram.
The Hobby-Horse: good business sense. Now make about 10 more horses and sell them at the market, and you'll be able to afford some dinner and a pair of shoes.
The Mulberry Bush: I feel like this song could go on forever.
Young Lambs to Sell: the guy in the illustration looks really unhappy to be selling lambs.
Boy and the Sparrow: it would take a great number of sparrows to make good stew.
Old Woman, Old woman: this witch is busy with fixing the world, OK, let her work.
The First of May: I'm assuming she'll be made beautiful. Because this could be taken as: and then she turns into a frog.
Sulky Sue: I don't think I ever punished my dolls. Tortured, yes, but not punished. I wasn't their parent.
The House that Jack Built: but then, who is Jack? And what happens next?
Saturday, Sunday: he better, as I've put all this work into my hair.
Little Jenny Wren: I guess that's pretty cold, but it's not like she asked for the wine, he brought it to her of his own free will.
The Old Woman and the Pedlar: alternatively known as: that Pedlar is a huge dick. She, poor thing, looks so distressed in the illustration.
Bobby Snooks: poor kid.
The Little Moppet: I swear this is the section where people are being dicks to each other.
I Saw a Ship A-Sailing: I'd watch that anime.
A Walnut: see, I would fail at this so hard.
The Man in the Moon: why?
One, He Loves: and what about "loves not?"
Bat, Bat: so you're not sure? I don't think it's a good idea to tease a bat who lives on your head.
Hark! Hark!: I feel like this is a reference I'm not getting.
The Hart: damn right.
My Love: how about you go out there and help her carry one of those things? That better be why you're asking after her.
The Man of Bombay: he looks vexed already, and his pipe is still in his mouth.
Poor Old Robinson Carusoe: who are "they?" But whatever, they did it because otherwise he'd be naked.
A Sieve: I'd guess Arhcus, and I'd be wrong.
My Maid Mary: Mary likes her job.
A Difficult Rhyme: so a porringer is a shallow bowl.
Pretty John Watts: how is his prettiness related to his ability to drive away the rats?
Good Advice: what are you, a dog?
I Love Sixpence: I don't understand your weird currency, but I get it, he spent his money, likely on vodka, and then probably lied to his wife about how much he was paid in the first place.
Bye, Baby Bunting: I heard a much creepier version of this.
Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son: don't steal, kids.
Comical Folks: ALIENS!!
Cock-Crow: but what if you work nights? I guess they didn't have that problem.
Tommy Snooks: So now there are two Snooks children. Are they related?
The Three Sons: poor lady. Either her sons were criminals, were murdered, or some combination. Though maybe she was also part of the criminal element.
The Blacksmith: cute.
Two Gray Kits: what an ass. At least try to save them. Even of they weren't all that good at catching rats.
One, Two, Buckle My Shoe: so, was this a jumping game or a clapping game?
Cock-a-doodle-do!: I think the answer is clear: the cock did it!
Pairs or Pears: so, 24 pears, minus 8 equals 16. I'm confused.
Belleisle: ?
Old King Cole: but only after a fine hit of the finest stuff.
See, See: that's disturbing.
Dapple-Gray: she's a shitty person.
A Well: I'm sure ALL the king's horses could fill it up. I mean, how deep can it really be?
Coffee and Tea: but it's a god thing! You don't have to share!
Pussy-cat Mew: so she burnt her belly? Poor baby.
The Little Girl With a Curl: how is the curl related to her behavior?
Dreams: so write down your dreams.
A Cock and Bull Story: I thought a "cock and bull" story meant that it was a lie, or like, bullshit.
For Baby: I don't think the baby should have apples. Unless it's an older baby...a toddler?
Myself: good and bad advice at the same time.
Over the Water: let him eat cake!
Candle-Saving: I have no idea what that means.
Fears and Tears: so they will.
The Kilkenny Cats: that's what happens sometimes - the town that's too small for two cats becomes devoid of cats all together.
Old Grimes: my condolences.
A Week of Birthdays: so don't get born on Wednesday.
A Chimney: now how would you ever guess that?
Ladybird: save your baby!
The Man Who Had Naught: why would robbers rob him if he had nothing? Am I not getting a pun here?
The Tailors and the Snail: is it a monstrous snail?
Around the Green Gravel: if this is another riddle, I give up.
Intery, Mintery: k.
Caesar's Song: how do we know his name is Caesar?
As I Was Going Along: -long long?
Hector Protector: is he a dog? A painting? A ship?
Billy, Billy: anticlimactic.
Rock-a-Bye, Baby: so the baby is a princess or prince. And the Queen married someone who's not a prince, possibly?
The Man in the Wilderness: that is a good answer.
Little Jack Hornet: pie...
The Bird Scarer: and we will make pie of you?
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary: that picture is terrifying. She's a botanist-necromancer who reanimates ladies through carnivorous plants -- and she's looking at you like she's gonna learn you a thing.
Bessy Bell and Mary Gray: poor Bessy. It's hard to find a good girlfriend; you never know if she'll hoard all the food.
Needles and Pins: hey, shut up. No one is making anyone marry. Or at least they shouldn't.
Pussy-cat and the Dumplings: because it's a cat, and cats are assholes.
Dance, Thumbkin, Dance: inadvertently, you give someone the finger.
Mary's Canary: before recordings came about.
The Little Bird: because humans are scary giants.
Birds of a Feather: soulmates?
The Dusty Miller: if she threw it in the dam, how would he get it?
A Star: a bird? A plane? Superman?
The Greedy Man: I think that's some sort of supernatural creature, or else the plates are made of something edible.
The Ten O'Clock Scholar: shit, the teacher has a whip in his hand. This looks serious. Run, student, RUN!
Cock-A-Doodle-Do: why would he crow before day?
An Icicle: certain death from the sides of buildings.
A Ship's Nail: I dare not ask.
The Old Woman of Leeds: nice lady.
The Boy in the Barn: the owl didn't want the boy screwing around in the owl's barn.
Sunshine: the King's horses and men are useless, as we've discovered.
Willy, Willy: but how did the maid feel about this?
Tongs: k.
Jack Jingle: so, he had no parents?
The Quarrel: that can happen sometimes.
The Pumpkin Eater: sounds like the beginning of a messed up magical horror story.
Shoeing: well, I've seen horses in clothes, and it looks dumb.
Betty Blue: so she's been hopping about this whole time?
That's All: she was damn strong, and that calf pissed her off.
Bedtime: STOP WATCHING OUR CHILDREN!
Dance, Little Baby: don't throw your babies.
My Little Maid: she ran away from your inadequate diddling.
For Want of a Nail: little things have big consequences.
Pease and Porridge: ?
Ring a Ring O' Roses: who's Tisha?
The Crooked Sixpence: happy end.
This is the Way: there is much I don't know about riding, or ladies.
Ducks and Drakes: slitherum slatherum? Is this slang for something?
The Donkey: this is not a rooster.
If: well, no one drinks sea water, so maybe milk?
The Bells: this means nothing to me, but apparently if you lived in London of old, all of those things meant something, and you could tell the bells apart.
Little Girl and Queen: not a bad exchange.
The King of France: I'm guessing he lost.
Peter Piper: he ate it?
One to Ten: and scared her half to death, likely.
An Equal: deep.
The Tarts: I just want some tarts now. In Russian they became cotlets, so like meatballs, because that fit the rhyme better than tarts.
Come, Let's to Bed: a pre-sleep snack is always good.
Little Maid: stop bothering me. We can fool around after I finish my work.
What are Little Boys Made of?: and of course, chemical X!!
Bandy Legs: this child is a dick.
The Girl and the Birds: so she's an animal witch.
A Pig: so it was the good kind, not the politician kind.
Jenny Wren: fascinating story.
Little Tom Tucker: by the looks of it, he's 10, so I think he'll be fine.
Where are You Going, My Pretty Maid: but we can still have some fun, y/y? Otherwise, leave me alone, I've got work. Go bother your horse.
The Old Woman of Glouchester: the parrot out-talked her, I gather.
Multiplication is Vexation: MATH!
Little King Boggen: reminds me of the witch in Hansel and Gretel.
Whistle: stop teasing your child.
Bell Horses: they can only count to 3?
Taffy: why not just wait for Taffy the first two times you came over?
The Robin: how do animals and birds tolerate the cold? I know they have fur and feathers, but it's hard to imagine.
The Old Woman of Harrow: she's a rich eccentric.
Young Roger and Dolly: go away with your cheap flowers. You better bring PIE next time.
The Piper and his Cow: but eventually the cow starved to death?
The Man of Derby: so he was a thief.
The Coachman: this guy looks like an ax-murderer or a rapist. I wouldn't go anywhere with him.
There was an Old Woman: was it a large shoe?
A Thorn: ouch.
The Old Woman of Surrey: it looks like she's gesturing at them with a knife.
The Little Mouse: mice are picky bastards.
Boy and Girl: and she's like: no, that's cool. But we can go ahead and steal some lunch. I'll distract the stall owner, and you grab the bread.
When: she was probably pissed. And what do you mean, "buy" a wife?
Sing, Sing: get a new string.
London Bridge: but only with a gay lady. So get me some lesbians to build this bridge. Now!
March Winds: not in California.
The Balloon: no, not until the 1960s. Unless it's all a LIE!
A Cherry: so he was choking?
The Lost Shoe: awkward.
Hot Codlins: a codlin is a sort of apple used for cooking.
Swan: spoiler alert, it's Zeus. RUN!
Three Straws: well, it's a baby. Almost anything would work.
The Man of Tobago: and then he ate all of the mutton and died, but it was worth it.
Ding, Dong, Bell: Tommy's a little shit.
A Sunshiny Shower: but you'll get a rainbow, meaning God really wants to kill you, but he promised not to.
The Farmer and the Raven: the picture shows kids, so it's less tragic.
Christmas: charity.
Willy Boy: no, banish all thoughts of Anna Karenina.
Polly and Sukey: they who?
The Death and Burial of Poor Cock Robin: but is the sparrow going to jail?
The Mouse and the Clock: a likely story.
Hot-Cross Buns: eats.
Bobby Shaftoe: good thing the poem didn't have a sad ending where he died at sea or something. Or maybe that's a different version.
The Bunch of Blue Ribbons: he's met up with some bros and they went out for beer.
The Woman of Exeter: MY MEAT!
Sneezing: good to know.
Pussy-cat by the Fire: and then they chase each other around the room.
When the Snow is on the Ground: I feel this is relevant to what's going on on the East Coast right now.
Little Bo-Peep: so her sheep wondered away and then were mutilated and had their tales removed?
Little Boy Blue: slacking on the job.
Rain: I'd say the opposite for CA. Rain, Rain, come our way.
The Clock: I've got too many smart-ass comments.
Winter: what is this "snow" you speak of?
Finger and Toes: Is this a riddle? Because I'm not THAT bad a math.
A Seasonable Song: say "hot" one more goddamn time!
Dame Trot and her Cat: I feel like there is masturbation innuendo in here somewhere.
Three Children on the Ice: hide yo' kids, because they drowning everybody out there.
Cross Patch: I guess to show them your nice work? Or to share a drink?
The Old Woman Under the Hill: blows my mind.
Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee: politics in a nutshell.
Oh, Dear!: I want to know more about these ladies and why they ended up in that tree. And why one stayed there?
Old Mother Goose: SYNONYMS!
Little Jumping Joan: So no one is ever with you? Or is the always modifying the...oh, forget it.
Pat-a-cake: mmm. cake.
Money and the Mare: money makes the world go round.
Robin Rebreast: did he forget he could fly for a moment?
A Melancholy Song: victim blaming. Not cool.
Jack: I know this one from the American Pie song!
Going to St. Ives: no more riddles!
Thirty Days Hath September: well, that's useful to know.
Baby Dolly: bribe your dollies into behaving!
Bees: I don't get it.
Come Out to Play: encouraging the children to run away from home? Or was there some sort of night festival?
If Wishes Were Horses: I see now.
To Market: that seems inefficient, but maybe the market is very close by?
Old Chairs to Mend: if wishes were horses.
Robin and Richard: and Richard is all -- why can't you get up first, since you're awake enough to bother me?
A Man and a Maid: basically she's like -- you don't have the money to support a wife! So no.
Here Goes my Lord: are they all horses?
The Clever Hen: SORCERY!
Two Birds: 29 bottles of beer on the wall, 29 bottles of beeeeeer!
Leg Over Leg: so a stile is an arrangement of steps that lets people go over fences, but not animals. And here this dog went over a stile.
Lucky Locket: did Kitty or someone else steal the contents, or was the purse empty to begin with?
When Jenny Wren was Young: because she's a bird.
Barber: what?
The Flying Pig: so the mice aren't the only ones to have the word "dickory" associated with them.
Solomon Grundy: presumably with the interval of some years between most of those events.
Hush-A-Bye: this turned dark fast.
Burnie Bee: k.
Three Wise Men of Gotham: there is a Russian version of this, identical except we don't know where the wise men were from.
The Hunter of Reigate: I thought something dramatic would happen, but it didn't.
Little Polly Flinders: how dare you be warm and not catch pneumonia!
Ride Away, Ride Away: the cat and the dog might have other ideas.
Pippen Hill: like, in a prostitution way, or in a dating way?
Pussy-cat and Queen: another one I've encountered in Russian.
The Winds: ?
Clap Handies: is this English?
Christmas: N/A
Elizabeth: because it's all the same girl.
Just Like Me: psych?
Play Days: so, a week and a half.
Heigh-Ho, the Carrion Crow: first of all, they use "lol." Second of all, it's dead, you moron!
A B C: what about the rest of the alphabet?
A Needle and Thread: but it gives away the answer in the title!
Banbury Cross: in the picture she doesn't look old at all.
The Man in Our Town: ooook....
Georgy Porgy: what a dick Georgy is.
For Every Evil: that's not helpful.
Cushy Cow: I don't think the cow will be very tempted by your offerings.
Wee Willie Winkie: he better be like, a magical creature or a small crazy child...not that those two options aren't weird.
About the Bush: unless you have bee allergies.
See-saw: ...
Robin-a-bobbin: so he sucks.
John Smith: I got nothing.
Simple Simon: poor guy.
Three Blind Mice: that's just cruel, lady.
Five Toes: and they were all eaten by various people and animals.
A Little Man: lucky drake.
Doctor Foster: screw those people and their bad roads! Or alternatively he got pneumonia and died.
Diddle Diddle Dumpling: John had a busy day?
Jerry Hall: did it? THAT would be a story.
Lengthening Days: I wish.
The Black Hen: but not for ladies?
The Mist: it's another riddle.
A Candle: seriously, stop giving it away in the title!
Miss Muffet: spiders are pretty startling.
Curly-locks: because I'm rich, is why.
Humpty Dumpty: I read somewhere that he should have gotten a second opinion from all Queen's mares and all the Queen's ladies.
One, Two, Three: so it was a piranha.
The Dove With the Wren: ladies? Eggs? What?
Master I Have: all I got is that he needs to get marries ASAP.
Pins: good to know. I heard the same about a penny.
Shall we go A-shearing?: selective hearing is useful.
Goosey, Goosey, Gander: I had a duck wonder into my room once. And is the old man a bug or animal of some sort?
Old Mother Hubbard: she has an anthropomorphic, clothes-wearing, dancing dog. How useful.
The Cock and the Hen: well...yes, I'm about 5 years old.
Blue Bell Boy: that's what you get for naming him Blue Bell.
Why May Not I Love Johnny: the picture assures me this is a song a mom or a nanny sings to their kid.
Jack Jelf: that's what you get when your last name rhymes with "shelf."
Jack Sprat: I read the Jasper Fforde book where his wife had passed away because of all the fat she ate (heart problems, I think), and he remarried and was a detective.
Hush-a-bye: I intend to interpret this as having some sort of innuendo about how much sex the dad is or is not getting.
Daffodils: flowers!
The Girl in the Lane: and then what?
Hush-a-bye: there are many of those. The dad is like: I have no idea what to do if you cry, so PLEASE be quiet until your mom returns.
Nancy Dawson: she was lazy? Is that what's happening?
Handy Pandy: candy.
Jack and Jill: ouch. But what about Jill? Was she OK?
The Alphabet: I think it's easier to just memorize the alphabet.
Dance to your Daddie: dad's a fisherman.
One Misty Moisty Morning: I hope she wasn't as young as the illustration makes her out to be.
Robin Hood and Little John: Robin is worries John won't come back?
Rain: no, do, do come back! COME BACK!
The Old Woman From France: your children suck at dancing.
Teeth and Gums: spoiler alert.
The Robins: they should have flipped a coin.
The Old Man: old ass can't even pay for services rendered.
T'other Little Tune: I'll be free from gender stereotypes, but I'll marry this fiddler, because actually we both love music and not people.
My Kitten: kittens are fluffy.
If all the Seas Were One Sea: what about the one great woman? And the one great whale in the one great sea? Like, who decides who gets to combine into one huge monster thing and who doesn't?
Pancake Day: I prefer pie.
A Plum Pudding: I'll take the pudding instead.
Forehead, Eyes, Cheeks, Nose, Mouth and Chin: should have names this one "Here Sits the Lord Mayor." Not like they have official titles.
Two Pigeons: because they hated you Margery, and your food.
A Sure Test: feelings are for girls, and you're a MAN!
Lock and Key: I see what you did there.
The Lion and the Unicorn: just leave, you weird beasts.
The Merchants of London: that's because they have money.
I Had a Little Husband: I shudder to guess.
To Babylon: stardust?
I'll Tell You a Story: not much of a story.
A Strange Old Woman: she probably stole those victuals from the little frightened boy in the illustration.
Sleep, Baby, Sleep: because mommy wants to take a nap, so please just sleep already.
Cry, Baby: the opposite of the above?
Baa, Baa, Clack Sheep: so who'll get the third bag?
Little Fred: and then read comic books all night long.
The Cat and the Fiddle: someone was taking all of the drugs.
Doctor Fell: that's because he's dead of pneumonia from that other song, so he's actually a ghost.
A Counting-out Rhyme: que?
Jack and his Fiddle: is Jack the fiddler whom the person who wouldn't be their dad's daughter nor son wanted to marry?
Buttons: I do like buttons.
Hot Boiled Beans: OK.
Little Pussy: if this isn't a masturbation song, then I don't know anything about anything anymore.
Sing a Song of Sixpence: can't help but think of Ms. Marple.
Tommy Tittlemouse: so he was a thief.
The Derby Ram: that's some ram.
The Hobby-Horse: good business sense. Now make about 10 more horses and sell them at the market, and you'll be able to afford some dinner and a pair of shoes.
The Mulberry Bush: I feel like this song could go on forever.
Young Lambs to Sell: the guy in the illustration looks really unhappy to be selling lambs.
Boy and the Sparrow: it would take a great number of sparrows to make good stew.
Old Woman, Old woman: this witch is busy with fixing the world, OK, let her work.
The First of May: I'm assuming she'll be made beautiful. Because this could be taken as: and then she turns into a frog.
Sulky Sue: I don't think I ever punished my dolls. Tortured, yes, but not punished. I wasn't their parent.
The House that Jack Built: but then, who is Jack? And what happens next?
Saturday, Sunday: he better, as I've put all this work into my hair.
Little Jenny Wren: I guess that's pretty cold, but it's not like she asked for the wine, he brought it to her of his own free will.
The Old Woman and the Pedlar: alternatively known as: that Pedlar is a huge dick. She, poor thing, looks so distressed in the illustration.
Bobby Snooks: poor kid.
The Little Moppet: I swear this is the section where people are being dicks to each other.
I Saw a Ship A-Sailing: I'd watch that anime.
A Walnut: see, I would fail at this so hard.
The Man in the Moon: why?
One, He Loves: and what about "loves not?"
Bat, Bat: so you're not sure? I don't think it's a good idea to tease a bat who lives on your head.
Hark! Hark!: I feel like this is a reference I'm not getting.
The Hart: damn right.
My Love: how about you go out there and help her carry one of those things? That better be why you're asking after her.
The Man of Bombay: he looks vexed already, and his pipe is still in his mouth.
Poor Old Robinson Carusoe: who are "they?" But whatever, they did it because otherwise he'd be naked.
A Sieve: I'd guess Arhcus, and I'd be wrong.
My Maid Mary: Mary likes her job.
A Difficult Rhyme: so a porringer is a shallow bowl.
Pretty John Watts: how is his prettiness related to his ability to drive away the rats?
Good Advice: what are you, a dog?
I Love Sixpence: I don't understand your weird currency, but I get it, he spent his money, likely on vodka, and then probably lied to his wife about how much he was paid in the first place.
Bye, Baby Bunting: I heard a much creepier version of this.
Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son: don't steal, kids.
Comical Folks: ALIENS!!
Cock-Crow: but what if you work nights? I guess they didn't have that problem.
Tommy Snooks: So now there are two Snooks children. Are they related?
The Three Sons: poor lady. Either her sons were criminals, were murdered, or some combination. Though maybe she was also part of the criminal element.
The Blacksmith: cute.
Two Gray Kits: what an ass. At least try to save them. Even of they weren't all that good at catching rats.
One, Two, Buckle My Shoe: so, was this a jumping game or a clapping game?
Cock-a-doodle-do!: I think the answer is clear: the cock did it!
Pairs or Pears: so, 24 pears, minus 8 equals 16. I'm confused.
Belleisle: ?
Old King Cole: but only after a fine hit of the finest stuff.
See, See: that's disturbing.
Dapple-Gray: she's a shitty person.
A Well: I'm sure ALL the king's horses could fill it up. I mean, how deep can it really be?
Coffee and Tea: but it's a god thing! You don't have to share!
Pussy-cat Mew: so she burnt her belly? Poor baby.
The Little Girl With a Curl: how is the curl related to her behavior?
Dreams: so write down your dreams.
A Cock and Bull Story: I thought a "cock and bull" story meant that it was a lie, or like, bullshit.
For Baby: I don't think the baby should have apples. Unless it's an older baby...a toddler?
Myself: good and bad advice at the same time.
Over the Water: let him eat cake!
Candle-Saving: I have no idea what that means.
Fears and Tears: so they will.
The Kilkenny Cats: that's what happens sometimes - the town that's too small for two cats becomes devoid of cats all together.
Old Grimes: my condolences.
A Week of Birthdays: so don't get born on Wednesday.
A Chimney: now how would you ever guess that?
Ladybird: save your baby!
The Man Who Had Naught: why would robbers rob him if he had nothing? Am I not getting a pun here?
The Tailors and the Snail: is it a monstrous snail?
Around the Green Gravel: if this is another riddle, I give up.
Intery, Mintery: k.
Caesar's Song: how do we know his name is Caesar?
As I Was Going Along: -long long?
Hector Protector: is he a dog? A painting? A ship?
Billy, Billy: anticlimactic.
Rock-a-Bye, Baby: so the baby is a princess or prince. And the Queen married someone who's not a prince, possibly?
The Man in the Wilderness: that is a good answer.
Little Jack Hornet: pie...
The Bird Scarer: and we will make pie of you?
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary: that picture is terrifying. She's a botanist-necromancer who reanimates ladies through carnivorous plants -- and she's looking at you like she's gonna learn you a thing.
Bessy Bell and Mary Gray: poor Bessy. It's hard to find a good girlfriend; you never know if she'll hoard all the food.
Needles and Pins: hey, shut up. No one is making anyone marry. Or at least they shouldn't.
Pussy-cat and the Dumplings: because it's a cat, and cats are assholes.
Dance, Thumbkin, Dance: inadvertently, you give someone the finger.
Mary's Canary: before recordings came about.
The Little Bird: because humans are scary giants.
Birds of a Feather: soulmates?
The Dusty Miller: if she threw it in the dam, how would he get it?
A Star: a bird? A plane? Superman?
The Greedy Man: I think that's some sort of supernatural creature, or else the plates are made of something edible.
The Ten O'Clock Scholar: shit, the teacher has a whip in his hand. This looks serious. Run, student, RUN!
Cock-A-Doodle-Do: why would he crow before day?
An Icicle: certain death from the sides of buildings.
A Ship's Nail: I dare not ask.
The Old Woman of Leeds: nice lady.
The Boy in the Barn: the owl didn't want the boy screwing around in the owl's barn.
Sunshine: the King's horses and men are useless, as we've discovered.
Willy, Willy: but how did the maid feel about this?
Tongs: k.
Jack Jingle: so, he had no parents?
The Quarrel: that can happen sometimes.
The Pumpkin Eater: sounds like the beginning of a messed up magical horror story.
Shoeing: well, I've seen horses in clothes, and it looks dumb.
Betty Blue: so she's been hopping about this whole time?
That's All: she was damn strong, and that calf pissed her off.
Bedtime: STOP WATCHING OUR CHILDREN!
Dance, Little Baby: don't throw your babies.
My Little Maid: she ran away from your inadequate diddling.
For Want of a Nail: little things have big consequences.
Pease and Porridge: ?
Ring a Ring O' Roses: who's Tisha?
The Crooked Sixpence: happy end.
This is the Way: there is much I don't know about riding, or ladies.
Ducks and Drakes: slitherum slatherum? Is this slang for something?
The Donkey: this is not a rooster.
If: well, no one drinks sea water, so maybe milk?
The Bells: this means nothing to me, but apparently if you lived in London of old, all of those things meant something, and you could tell the bells apart.
Little Girl and Queen: not a bad exchange.
The King of France: I'm guessing he lost.
Peter Piper: he ate it?
One to Ten: and scared her half to death, likely.
An Equal: deep.
The Tarts: I just want some tarts now. In Russian they became cotlets, so like meatballs, because that fit the rhyme better than tarts.
Come, Let's to Bed: a pre-sleep snack is always good.
Little Maid: stop bothering me. We can fool around after I finish my work.
What are Little Boys Made of?: and of course, chemical X!!
Bandy Legs: this child is a dick.
The Girl and the Birds: so she's an animal witch.
A Pig: so it was the good kind, not the politician kind.
Jenny Wren: fascinating story.
Little Tom Tucker: by the looks of it, he's 10, so I think he'll be fine.
Where are You Going, My Pretty Maid: but we can still have some fun, y/y? Otherwise, leave me alone, I've got work. Go bother your horse.
The Old Woman of Glouchester: the parrot out-talked her, I gather.
Multiplication is Vexation: MATH!
Little King Boggen: reminds me of the witch in Hansel and Gretel.
Whistle: stop teasing your child.
Bell Horses: they can only count to 3?
Taffy: why not just wait for Taffy the first two times you came over?
The Robin: how do animals and birds tolerate the cold? I know they have fur and feathers, but it's hard to imagine.
The Old Woman of Harrow: she's a rich eccentric.
Young Roger and Dolly: go away with your cheap flowers. You better bring PIE next time.
The Piper and his Cow: but eventually the cow starved to death?
The Man of Derby: so he was a thief.
The Coachman: this guy looks like an ax-murderer or a rapist. I wouldn't go anywhere with him.
There was an Old Woman: was it a large shoe?
A Thorn: ouch.
The Old Woman of Surrey: it looks like she's gesturing at them with a knife.
The Little Mouse: mice are picky bastards.
Boy and Girl: and she's like: no, that's cool. But we can go ahead and steal some lunch. I'll distract the stall owner, and you grab the bread.
When: she was probably pissed. And what do you mean, "buy" a wife?
Sing, Sing: get a new string.
London Bridge: but only with a gay lady. So get me some lesbians to build this bridge. Now!
March Winds: not in California.
The Balloon: no, not until the 1960s. Unless it's all a LIE!
A Cherry: so he was choking?
The Lost Shoe: awkward.
Hot Codlins: a codlin is a sort of apple used for cooking.
Swan: spoiler alert, it's Zeus. RUN!
Three Straws: well, it's a baby. Almost anything would work.
The Man of Tobago: and then he ate all of the mutton and died, but it was worth it.
Ding, Dong, Bell: Tommy's a little shit.
A Sunshiny Shower: but you'll get a rainbow, meaning God really wants to kill you, but he promised not to.
The Farmer and the Raven: the picture shows kids, so it's less tragic.
Christmas: charity.
Willy Boy: no, banish all thoughts of Anna Karenina.
Polly and Sukey: they who?
The Death and Burial of Poor Cock Robin: but is the sparrow going to jail?
The Mouse and the Clock: a likely story.
Hot-Cross Buns: eats.
Bobby Shaftoe: good thing the poem didn't have a sad ending where he died at sea or something. Or maybe that's a different version.
The Bunch of Blue Ribbons: he's met up with some bros and they went out for beer.
The Woman of Exeter: MY MEAT!
Sneezing: good to know.
Pussy-cat by the Fire: and then they chase each other around the room.
When the Snow is on the Ground: I feel this is relevant to what's going on on the East Coast right now.
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