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Who will bear the pall?

"We," said the Wren,

Both the Cock and the Hen; "And we will bear the pall."

Who will toll the bell? "I," said the Bull, "Because I can pull." And so, Cock Robin, farewell.

All the birds of the air

Fell to sighing and sobbing When they heard the bell toll For poor Cock Robin.

143

The following tale was edited (1885) for children by John Ruskin from a version "written principally by a lady of ninety (Mrs. Sharp.)" Ruskin himself added the third, fourth, eighth, and ninth stanzas, because "in the old books no account is given of what the cats learned when they went to school, and I thought my younger readers might be glad of some notice of such particulars." But he thought his rhymes did not ring like the real ones, of which he said: "I aver these rhymes to possess the primary value of rhyme—that is, to be rhythmical in a pleasant and exemplary degree." The book was illustrated with quaint woodcuts for each stanza after the edition of 1823, with additional drawings for the four new stanzas by Kate Greenaway, one of the most famous illustrators of children's books. Ruskin commends the result "to the indulgence of the Christmas fireside, because it relates nothing that is sad, and portrays nothing that is ugly."

DAME WIGGINS OF LEE, AND
HER SEVEN WONDERFUL CATS

Dame Wiggins of Lee
Was a worthy old soul,
As e'er threaded a nee-
dle, or wash'd in a bowl;

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Said he, "All my stock
You shall presently see;
For I honor the cats
Of Dame Wiggins of Lee."

He sent his maid out

For some muffins and crumpets;
And when he turn'd round
They were blowing of trumpets.
Said he, "I suppose
She's as deaf as can be,

Or this ne'er could be borne
By Dame Wiggins of Lee."

To show them his poultry,
He turn'd them all loose,
When each nimbly leap'd
On the back of a goose,
Which frighten'd them so
That they ran to the sea,
And half-drown'd the poor cats
Of Dame Wiggins of Lee.

For the care of his lamb,
And their comical pranks,
He gave them a ham
And abundance of thanks.
"I wish you good-day,
My fine fellows," said he;
"My compliments, pray,
To Dame Wiggins of Lee."
You see them arrived
At their Dame's welcome door;
They show her their presents,
And all their good store.
"Now come in to supper,
And sit down with me;
All welcome once more,"
Cried Dame Wiggins of Lee.

144

This is the perfect pattern of all the accumulative stories, perhaps the best known and most loved of children among all nursery jingles. Halliwell thought it descended from the mystical Hebrew hymn, "A kid, a

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"Then came the cat, and ate the kid, That my father bought," etc.

Then came the dog and bit the cat, then the staff and beat the dog, then the fire and burned the staff, then water and quenched the fire, then the ox and drank the water, then the butcher and slew the ox, then the angel of death and killed the butcher, and the hymn concludes:

"Then came the Holy One, blessed be He!
And killed the angel of death,
That killed the butcher,
That slew the ox,
That drank the water,
That quenched the fire,
That burned the staff,
That beat the dog,

That bit the cat,
That ate the kid,
That my father bought
For two pieces of money:

A kid, a kid."

There is an elaborate interpretation of the symbolism of this hymn, going back at least as far as 1731, in which the kid denotes the Hebrews, the father is Jehovah, the cat is the Assyrians, the dog is the Babylonians, the staff is the Persians, the fire is Greece under Alexander, the water is the Roman Empire, the ox is the Saracens, the butcher is the crusaders, the angel of death is the Turkish power, while the concluding accumulation shows that God will take vengeance on the enemies of the chosen people. This is the interpretation in barest outline only. Without the key no one would ever guess its hidden meaning. Fortunately, "The House That Jack Built" has no such

horn,

hidden meaning. But the important point | That milked the cow with the crumpled is that such accumulative stories are almost as old as human records, and, like so many other possessions of the race, seem to have come to us from the Far East.

THIS IS THE HOUSE
THAT JACK BUILT

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat,

That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,

That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled
horn,

That tossed the dog,

That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,

That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn,

That kissed the maiden all forlorn,

That milked the cow with the crumpled
horn,

That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,

That married the man all tattered and

torn,

That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled

horn,

That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt

That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the

morn,

That waked the priest all shaven and

shorn,

That married the man all tattered and
torn,

That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled

horn,

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