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Mother Goose in Prose

Creator: Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919
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accomplishment. Anyone can eat." "If it please you, sir, you are wrong," replied Tommy, "for I have been unable to eat all day." "And why is that?" asked the alderman. "Because I have had nothing to put to my mouth. But now that I have met so kind a gentleman, I am sure that I shall have a good supper." The alderman laughed again at this shrewd answer, and said, "you shall have supper, no doubt; but you must sing a song for the company first, and so earn your food." Tommy shook his head sadly. "I do not know any song, sir," he said. The alderman called a servant and whispered something in his ear. The servant hastened away, and soon returned bearing upon a tray a huge slice of white bread and butter. White bread was a rare treat in those days, as nearly all the people ate black bread baked from rye or barley flour. "Now," said the alderman, placing the tray beside him, "you shall have
The Arabian Nights Entertainments

THE STORY OF THE LITTLE HUNCH-BACK. There was in former times at Casgar, on the extreme boundaries of Tartary, a tailor who had a pretty wife, whom he affectionately loved, and by whom he was beloved with reciprocal tenderness. One day while he was at work, a little hunch-back seated himself at the shop door and began to sing, and play upon a tabor. The tailor was pleased with his performance, and resolved to take him to his house to entertain his wife: "This little fellow," said he, "will divert us both this evening." He accordingly invited him, and the other readily accepted the invitation: so the tailor shut up his shop, and carried him home. Immediately after their arrival the tailor's wife placed before them a good dish of fish; but as the little man was eating, he unluckily swallowed a bone, which, notwithstanding all that the tailor and his wife could do, choked him. This accident greatly alarmed them both, dreading, if the magistrates should hear of it, that they would be punished as murderers. However, the husband devised a scheme to get rid of the corpse. He reflected that a Jewish doctor lived just by, and
this slice of white bread and butter when you have sung us a song, and complied with one condition." "And what is that condition?" asked Tommy. "I will tell you when we have heard the song," replied the fat alderman, who had decided to have some amusement at the boy's expense. Tommy hesitated, but when he glanced at the white bread and butter his mouth watered in spite of himself, and he resolved to compose a song, since he did not know how to sing any other. So he took off his cap, and standing before the company he sang as follows: A bumble-bee lit on a hollyhock flower That was wet with the rain of a morning shower. While the honey he sipped His left foot slipped, And he could n't fly again for half an hour! "Good!" cried the alderman, after the company had kindly applauded Tommy. "I can't say much for the air, nor yet for the words; but it was not so bad as it might have been. Give us another verse." So Tommy pondered a moment, and then sang again: