Pity the poor messenger (Hero on a pushbike Book 1)

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Early 19th-Century SF. SF — Mobility and Mobilisation. Verne and Wells. The Early 20th Century, 2: The Pulps. Golden Age SF: — Prose SF of the s and s. Back Matter Pages About this book Introduction This book is the definitive critical history of science fiction. The first edition of this work traced the development of the genre from Ancient Greece and the European Reformation through to the end of the 20th century. This new 2nd edition has been revised thoroughly and very significantly expanded.

Baby He opens his mouth when he kisses you; He cries very loud when he misses you; He says "Boo! Learning to walk alone Come, my darling, come away, Take a pretty walk to-day; Run along, and never fear, I'll take care of baby dear; Up and down with little feet, That's the way to walk, my sweet. Old Chairs to Mend If I'd as much money as I could spend, I never would cry old chairs to mend; Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend; I never would cry old chairs to mend.

Traveling in Europe’s River of Migrants

If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry old clothes to sell; Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell; I never would cry old clothes to sell. Dad's gane to Ploo Cock-a-doodle-doo, My dad's gane to ploo; Mammy's lost her pudding-poke And knows not what to do.

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Hot Cross Buns Hot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns! Rabbit Pie Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit-pie! Come, my ladies, come and buy; Else your babies they will cry. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, They all came out of a rotten potato. Dinner Hey ding a ding, what shall I sing?

How many holes in a skimmer? Four-and-twenty, my stomach is empty; Pray mamma, give me some dinner. The Barber Barber, barber, shave a pig, How many hairs will make a wig?

Names of plants and animals.

Shaving The barber shaved the mason, As I suppose cut of his nose, And popp'd it in a basin. White bread and butter. How shall he cut it Without e'er a knife?

How will he be married Without e'er a wife? Georgie Porgie Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry. When the girls came out to play Georgie Porgie ran away. Little Lad Little lad, little lad, where wast thou born? Far off in Lancashire, under a thorn, Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn. Jack-a-Dandy Handy Spandy, Jack-a-dandy, Loved plum-cake and sugar-candy; He bought some at a grocer's shop, And out he came, hop, hop, hop.


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Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son John. Hey diddle diddle Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran after the spoon. There is nothing wonderful in the cow jumping "under" the moon, but there is in the cow jumping "over" the moon, so with the black-birds baked in a pie.

It is the fact of their singing when the pie is opened that pleases the children—'twas the wonder of the thing; so with the freaks of Mother Hubbard's Dog, etc. In nearly all nursery rhymes it is the ludicrous and wonderful that arrests the attention and pleases. Dame not at Home Rowsty dowt, my fire's all out, My little dame is not at home; I'll saddle my goose and bridle my hen, And fetch my little dame home again; Home she came, tritty trot; And asked for the porridge she left in the pot.

Hot Rolls Blow, wind, blow! Tearful Annie Poor little Annie, you will find, Is very gentle, good, and kind, But soon a a fault appears. The slightest thing will give her pain, Her feelings she can ne'er restrain, But gives way to her tears. The other day when Ferdinand— And if you search throughout the land, No nicer boy you'll find— Said something which he never meant To cause the slightest discontent, For hours she sobbed and whined.

Her father grieved, said: "This must cease We never have a moment's peace, She cries both day and night. He set to work that very day, Directly he received his pay; The picture soon was done.

The Meaning of Life

Yes, there she was, all sobs and sighs, Large tear-drops streaming from her eyes. It was in truth a great success; Quite perfect, neither more nor less; Her father was so glad.


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  5. He hung the portrait in her room; It filled her with the deepest gloom; She felt annoyed and sad. With every relative who came, And saw the picture, 'twas the same, All startled with affright. Uncles, and aunts, and cousins too, Found it so striking, life-like, true That soon they took to flight. Annie not long could this endure; It brought about a speedy cure, She ceased to cry and moan.

    Her father ceased to scold and frown, He had the picture taken down, And in the garret thrown. Hattie's Birthday Oh!

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    This is a happy, beautiful world! Ah me! A Lost Child "I'm losted! Could you find me, please? Dust Shiny-eyes. What has you been a-doing? I wonder what's the matter now. There, go and be dirty, unfit to be seen; And till you leave off, and I see you have smiled, I'll not take the trouble to wash such a child. All down her arms and neck and face; I could not bear to see the place.

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    Poor little girl! For once, when nobody was by her, This silly child would play with fire; And long before her mother came, Her pinafore was all in flame. In vain she tried to put it out, Till all her clothes were burnt about; And then she suffer'd ten times more, All over with a dreadful sore.


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    8. For many months before 'twas cured, Both day and night the pain endured; And still you see, when passing by her, How sad it is to play with fire. She spoke to the servants like a dog or a cat And fussed about this, and fussed about that. Peggy Won't "I won't be dressed, I won't, I won't! The Shadows "Mamma! I'm Governess Now children dear, you all come near And do not make a noise; But listen here, just take and clear That desk of all those toys. And you Kate Ross, stop pinching there, Don't scratch! Don't be a Tom-boy Emma Pyke, You really must act lady-like.

      Now I want all good children in my school, Don't want a single dunce, bad girl or fool, So I will kindly ask you to be brave, And try to very, very well behave. Yes all be good and learn your lessons well, And then I'll ring the little bell to tell That school is over for the day, And you can all run out to play.

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