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Grandmamma Easy's Old Dame Hicket
and Her Wonderful Cricket
(circa 1840)

Boston: Brown, Bazin & Co. Nashua, N.H.: N.P Greene & Co.

























There was one old Dame Hicket,
Had a wonderful Cricket,
That dwelt in a hole by the fender,
And when he came out
He would walk all about,
On his hind legs so tall and slender.
This so pleased the old Dame
That she gave him a name,
'Little Peter', it was, you must know;
And she fed him with crumbs
'Twixt her fingers and thumbs,
Before into his hole he did go.




When the everings were long
He would sing a gay song,
And loudly out he would bellow
Or as merry as a grig
Dance a lively jig;
Now was n't he a comical fellow?
Sometimes, too, 't is said,
He would stand on his head,
And swing his legs up in the air;
Then down he would pop,
And chirp, run and hop,
Just as if he was mad, I declare.




He's sit on a stool
Like a child at school,
Whilst the Dame she would read him a book;
And nod with his head
At each word she said,
As now he is doing, just look.
When the Dame took her snuff,
Which was often enough,
Politely she'd hand him the box;
But the first thing he did,
Was to shut down the lid,
And then give it two or three knocks.




When the Dame took her tea,
There on one side was he,
Seated up in a large arm-chair;
And he wrinkled with his eyes
So knowing and wise,
As if he had been the Lord Mayor.
Sometimes from her cup
He would just take a sup,
Or of tea-cake a very thin slice;
And the Dame all the while,
As she on him did smile,
Would ask if he thought it was nice.




But the Dame, one night,
Had a terrible fright,
For the Cricket he hopped on her nose.
She cried, 'What's there?'
When down went her chair,
And up in the air went her toes.
The Cricket did run,
When he saw this fun,
And quickly got right out of sight;
Whilst the Dame, with much pain,
Scrambled up once again,
And vowed she would kill him outright.




Now with this fall, alack!
The poor Dame hurt her back,
And that was a sad disaster,
For the Doctor he came
And to cure the poor Dame,
He brought her a very large plaster.
She went straight to bed,
Not to sleep though, 't is said,
For the pain in her back it was cruel;
So a neighbor's kind daughter
Put her feet in warm water,
And made her a basin of gruel.




Now all the same day
She was in the sameway,
And scarcely could hobble at all ;
Whilst the Cricket, to tease,
Danced about at his ease,
And once again near made her fall.
This the Dame so much vexed,
And sorely perplexed,
She'd have done with the Cricket forever,
So, as well as she could,
With a nail and some wood,
She stopped up the hole quite clever.


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The Story of Little Sarah an Her Johnny-Cake
(circa 1830)

Boston: W.J.Reynolds & Co.






Little Sarah she stood by her grandmother's bed,
'And what shall I get for your breakfast?' she said;
'You shall get me a Johnny-cake: quickly go make it, In one minute mix, and in two minute bake it.'

So Sarah she went to the closet to see
If yet any meal in the barrel might be.
The barrel had long time been empty as wind;
Not a speck of the bright yellow meal could she find.



But grandmother's Johnny-cake - still she must make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it.

She ran to the shop; but the shopkeeper said,
'I have none - you must go to the mille, fair maid;
'For he has a mill, and he'll put the corn to it,
And grind you some nice yellow meal in a minute;



But run, or the Johnny-cake, how will you make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it?'

Then Sarah she ran every step of the way;
But the miller said, 'No, I have no meal today;
Run, quick, to the cornfield, just over the hill,
And if any be there, you may fetch it to mill.



Run, run, or the Johnny-cake, how will you make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it?'

She ran to the cornfield - the corn had not grown,
Though the sun in the blue sky all pleasantly shone.
'Pretty sun', cried the maiden, 'please make the corn grow.'
'Pretty maid', the sun answered, 'I cannot do so.'



'Then grandmother's Johnny-cake - how shall I make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it?'

Then Sarah looked round, and she saw what was wanted;
The corn could not grow, for no corn had been planted.



Shee asked of the farmer to sow her some grain,
But the farmer he laughed till his sides ached again.
'Ho! ho! for the Johnny-cake - how can you make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it?'

The farmer he laughed, and he laughed out aloud, -
'And how can I plant till the earth has been ploughed?



Run, run to the ploughman, and bring him with speed;
He'll plough up the ground, and I'll fill it with seed.'

Away, then, ran Sarah, still hoping to make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it.



The ploughman he ploughed, and the grain it was sown,
And the sun shed his rays till the corn was all grown;
It was ground at the mill, and again in her bed
These words to poor Sarah the grandmother said:
'You shall get me a Johnny-cake - quickly go make it,
In one minute mix, andin two minutes bake it.'





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The Children in the Wood
(circa 1825)

published by Dunigan, New York



Shrubland Hall.

Deep seated in a flowery vale,
Beside a woody dell,
Stood Shrubland Hall, where, says the tale,
A worthy pair did dwell.




The Children with their Parents

Two beauteous babes this happy pair,
To crown their loves had got:
The proudest monarch on his throne,
Might envy them their lot.




The Uncle Taking the Children.

But death, in midst of all their joys,
Did seize this loving pair,
Who, dying, left their girl and boy,
Unto an Uncle's care.




The Uncle Bribing the Ruffians

But to their fortunes he aspired,
And to secure his prey,
How two unfeeling Ruffians hired
To take their lives away.




The Ruffians with the Children.

These wretches, cruel, fierce and bold,
Conveyed them to a wood,
There, for the sake of filthy gold,
To shed their infant blood.




The Ruffians Fighting.

But one his purpose did repent,
Before the deed was done,
And slew the other Ruffian there,
Then left the babes alone.




The Children in the Wood.

Their little hearts with terror sank,
With hunger, too, they cried,
At length upon a flowery bank
They laid them down, and died.




The Children's Death.

The Redbreasts, in their clustering bowers,
Sung mournful on each spray,
And there with leaves and fragrant flowers,
O'erspread them as they lay.



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Adventures of Little Red Riding Hood
(circa 1820)

Mark's Edition - Published by Fisk & Little, 82 State-Street, Albany, New York



In a Little Thatched Cot, by the side of a Wood,
Lived an innocent lass, Little Red Riding Hood;
You would scarce find her equal, the neighbours all say,
So kind and obedieant, so cheerful and gay.



One day this young lass, To Grandma was sent,
A nice pot of Butter, To her to present;
Besides a Cheesecake, And a new loaf of Bread,
For Grandma was ill, And confined to her Bed.



But her Mother before She set out on her way,
Charged her not on her journey To loiter or play;
This charge she neglected, And rambled for hours,;
To gather Primroses, And other wild flowers.



So she wandered about Till the close of the day,
When the wicked old Wolf, He came prowling that way,
He enquired her errand, She soon let him know
Ah! silly young creature, Why did she do so?



Away ran the Wolf, While his heart did rejoice,
And he knocked at the door, And spoke in a feign'd voice;
The Old Dame who for Her Grand-daughter did watch
Cried pull up the bobbin, Twill open the latch.



So he open'd the door, And run up stairs with speed,
Poor Grandmamma was Very much frightened indeed;
But he tore to pieces, Oh merciless beast,
To make of a poor Harmless Lady a Feast.



Then he put the poor Lady's Nightcap on his head,
And cunningly slipped himself Into the bed;
And when Riding Hood knocked As she'd oft done before,
Says the Wolf, pull the Bobbin 'Twill open the door.



Then up stairs she went, And was struck with surprise,
When she saw his sharp teeth, And his great goggle eyes;
She would have cried out, Bit at her he flew,
And tore her to pieces, And ate her up too.