 | Mother Pitcher's poems For Little People |  |
11
The Fiddle and the Shoes.
I had a fiddle which lay on the shelf,—A beautiful fiddle, which played of itself,—
Jinkety, junkety, crambo;
And silver shoes, with lining red,
Which walked in the morning to my bed,
With a rumpety, bumpety, slambo.
12
I found that my fiddle had walked away,—
Jinkety, junkety, crambo.
In the right-hand shoe my fiddle did go,
The left one carried my rosin and bow,
With a rumpety, bumpety, slambo.
| Mother Pitcher's poems For Little People | |