The Tale of Peter Rabbit
Riddle me, riddle me, rot-rot-tote!
A little wee man,in a red red coat!
A staff in his hand,and a stone in his throat;
If you’ll tell me this riddle,I’ll give you a groat.
Old Mr.B! riddle-me-ree
Flour of England,fruit of Spain,
Met together in a shower of rain;
Put in a bag tied round with a string,
If you’ll tell me this riddle,I’ll give you a ring!
As I went over Tipple-time
I met a flock of bonny swine;
Some yellow-nacked,some yellow backed!
They were the very bonniest swine
That e’er went over Tipple-tine.
Humpty Dumpty lies in the beck,
With a white counterpane round his neck,
Forty doctors and forty wrights,
Cannot put Humpty Dumpty to rights!
Arthur O’Bower has broken his band,
He comes roaring up the land!
The King of Scots with all his power,
Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower!
Old Mr.B! Old Mr.B!
Hickamore,Hackamore,on the King’s kitchen door;
All the King’s horses,and all the King’s men,
Couldn’t drive Hickamore,Hackamore,
Off the King’s kitch door.
Simpkin,we shall make our fortune,but I am worn to a ravelling.Take this groat(which is our last fourpence)and Simpkin,take a china pipkin;buy a penn’orth of bread,a penn’orth of milk and a penn’orth of sausages.And oh, Simpkin.with the last penny of our fourpence buy me one penn’orth of cherry-coloured silk.But do not lose the last penny of the foutpence,Simpkin,or I am undone and worn to a thread-paper,for I have NO MORE TWIST.
Under the wooden eaves the starlings and sparrows sang of Christmas pies;the jack-dwas woke up in the Cathedral tower;and although it was the middle of the night the throstles and robins sang;the air was quite full of little twittering tunes.