 | Mother Pitcher's poems For Little People |  |
21
Rackety, Crackety!
Rackety, crackety, kettles and crumbs!Save up your pence till a holiday comes!
Save up your pence till you go to the fair,
And buy me a bodkin to twist in my hair:
Save up your pence till a pedlar comes by,
And get me a brooch, or I'll whimper and cry:
Get me a dolly, and get me a top,
Get me a ball, or I'll cry and I'll hop;
Get me a dog, which goes bow-wow, and bark;
Get me a beautiful red Noah's ark,—
Soldiers and bayonets, trumpets and drums.
Rackety, crackety, kettles and crumbs!
| Mother Pitcher's poems For Little People | |