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Sim-ple Si-mon went a-fish-ing,
For to catch a whale;
All the wa-ter he had got,
Was in his moth-er's pail.

Sim-ple Si-mon went to see
If plums grew on a this-tle;
He pricked his fingers ver-y much,
Which made poor Si-mon whis-tle.


As I went through the gar-den-gap, Whom should I meet but Dick Red-cap! A stick in his hand, a stone in his throat, If you'll tell me this rid-dle, I'll give you a groat.

[A Cherry.]






The Crows cry "Caw, caw!" and cram their crops full of crumbs.

The Crabs crawl crook-ed-ly at the foot of the tall crags. Crock-er-y cracks eas-i-ly.



les-sons rest-less cropped mo-ment but-cher's

One day lit-tle Jem Gray set off to the town to school with his sis-ter Kate. The house they lived in stood a-lone at the edge of a wood, far a-way from the town. The day was fine, for it was sum-mer, and the sun was shin-ing as it shines when the days are long. Now Jem was a rest-less boy, fond-er of fun than of his les-sons, and he put off so much time on the way, now cut-ting sticks from the hedge, now leap-ing a fence after birds, that he and his sis-ter were late for school. Kate was a sweet lit-tle girl, and ver-y fond of school, so she at once went in, and the teach-er did not scold her much; but i-dle Jem went off with the but-cher's boy who was pass-ing at the time. At the but-cher's shop he played with Jer-ry, the big dog, for a lit-tle while; but as Jem soon began to tease the dog, it bit him, and sent him away cry-ing. He then went down the lane that led to the com-mon, and there he met Bob the ped-lar's ass. Poor

fel-low he was shak-ing his long ears and his mane to keep off the flies, while he cropped the grass by the hedge. Did Jem let him take his ease? Oh, no. This did not please the i-dle boy. He lift-ed a stone to throw at poor Bob, but at that mo-ment up came the ped-lar, and Jem dropped the stone for fear of a thrash-ing. Then a-way he ran to hide till the ped-lar passed.

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The day seemed much long-er to i-dle Jem than if he had been at school. He strolled a-bout from place to place till it was time to slink home with Kate. When he got to the foot of the lane, he saw a large or-chard, full of cher-ry trees and ap-ple trees, goose-ber-ries and cur-rant ber-ries. In the hedge round the orchard was a lit-tle hole to let the fowls pass in and out. Squeez-ing hard, Jem

got through this hole, and be-gan fill-ing his pock-ets with the ap-ples that lay scat-tered a-bout at the foot of the trees, while he eat the ber-ries which he pulled off the bush-es.

In the corn-er of the gar-den was a bee-hive. The bees were not i-dle like Jem, but buzzed a-bout the hive, car-rying sweets to add to the stores in their cells.

What fine fun it seemed to Jem to take a long pole which was ly-ing near, and tease the bees as he had teased Jer-ry, the but-cher's dog, and Bob, the lame ass. But he had not poked long a-bout the mouth of the hive when out rushed the bees and stung him in the face. Jem dropped the pole at once and rushed off; but he was too late.

The gar-den-er had seen him. Smarting from the stings of the bees, and his pock-ets heav-y with the sto-len ap-ples, Jem could not get a-way fast e-nough. The gar-den-er caught him, made him turn out his pock-ets, and then sent him off cry-ing far loud-er than he did when Jer-ry bit him. Go-ing home with Kate that day, you may fan-cy how he

wished he had gone to school, and been scold-ed by the teach-er rath-er than have tak-en the gar-den-er's thrashing. But Jem had learned a les-son that day which he did not soon for-get.

Lit-tle child-ren sleep in cribs.
Cress-es grow in clear streams.
Don't crum-ble the crust.

Some Hens have pret-ty crests.
You must not crum-ple the crape on the
crown of my cap.

The cru-el Cat creeps sli-ly after my poor bird: no cream for

you, Puss!


ang-ry lame stray-ing scarce-ly walk

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Will-ie Price was a nice

Lit-tle herd-boy in blue,

Who took his horn, one fine bright morn,
To call for his Dog-gie True.

His Dog-gie came, but limp-ing lame,
Says Will-ie, "Can that be you?

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