Bisbee daily review., 1904-04-06

eheereo the heart of many a Puritan child. Amid the gloom and austeri- ty that enveloped the life Of the early days, who shall doubt that the child was the greatest sufferer. Heaven lies about us in our infancy" says wordsworth, but he spoke not Of the Infancy of such as these Yet it is cheering to know that the Puritan ma tron, as she held her little one in close embrace to the mother heart, crooned some enchanting folk tale 10 amuse the dainty nursehng. No book for children could have come over in the Mayflower, but the folk-songs of the nursery came over the stormy Allan tic on the lips of the Puritan women, and were handed down from mother to daughter. The Mother Goose rhymes were all the child stories the wee ones possessed, and must have been very bright spot in their lives Much of the life of the English peo- pie, Of their customs, superstitions and history is reflected in these songs and tales, and unless one has given some study to the subject, one does not realize how much of the national life and way of thinking have been woven into them during the passing centuries. If all history were lost, all other records obliterated and our traditions forgotten, Mother Goose would still teach us that our ancestors once lived in England. It preserves the names of her towns and cities London, Gloucester, Bonner and Ban bury Cross. the River Dee and its jolly miller. Lanes are characterist- ic Of English scenery, and frequent mention is made of them The bach | elor who went te London to buy him wife was forced to bring her home in wheelbarrow for the streets | were so long and the lanes were so narrow" In "Ba-a, Ba-a, black | sheep" there is no wool for the little | boy who cries in the lane.
 I lost my little mare in Lincoln Lane The lane that I went was so long,
 long, etc.
 Banbury Cross was the merry-go- round place of ''ye olden tyme." but was beaten down by Cromwell and his soldiers. Through all these cen tnries, it's memory has been kept fresh oy the Mother Goose rhyme. How many thousands of children, do you suppose, have ridden a cock-horse to banbury Cross? In our own times the Cross has been rebuilt, because |, 'he nursery children have demonstrat- ed its right 10 survival. The money of our ancestors was woven into these TJhmes: Sing a song of sixpenee" Says the pieman to Simple Simon | snow me first your penny" Old GUS toms are alluded to in Cock Robin The tale originated before the use of sunpowder, since bow and arrow are the shooting outfit. The burial sery- ice was read from book, as was pey- CT cone in earliest N. E. As the story proceeds, it is somehow made appa- rent that it is worse to kill a robin tnan any other bird. The same feel ing prevails with boys and their motb. CTS today:
 Nay" said his Grandmother. have
 you not heard,
 My poor. bad boy, of the fiery pit And how drop by drop, this nercifnl
 bird
 Brings the water that quenebes if?
 He brings fresh dew in his little bil,
 Ana lets it fall on the souls of sin You can see the marks on his red
 breast still
 or fires that scorch as he drar. 4.
 in."
 in Morse mythology, the robin was sacred 10 Thor, the god of Tbrpaer ana whoever killed it was overt.I,, oy some calamity. The Swiss lave iesena that the robin drops leaves m 'Ae faces Of murdered men and ebiIa ren as in the story of the .eBabes i, sne ~ooo London Bridge is Failing DoWn preserves an historical fac, though for many years its truth vas doubted. Recently an obscure massage has been found in an old chronietp which confirms its truth ss th;- ordge was for centuries the only one mat gave access over the river its i, taiI occasioDed great inconvenience ana this popular misfortune was ra- corded in the ryhmes of the people Then there are the fairy tales-Cip. aerelia, Jack and the BeanstaIk Se "nich we cannot stop to consider. Bu, some one my ask, Do these mold ch-Tacter?" Most assuredly they 5o By the Mother Goose rhymes, the poet. ic instinct was kept alive among q nee pie who allowed no touch of beauty to grace either life or death. The hard and thorny path they hept
 From beauty turned aside. Nor missed they over those who slept