Nursery Rhymes – Origin & History II | guernseydonkey.com Home » Literature » Nursery Rhymes – Origin & History II Nursery Rhymes – Origin & History II Published on Apr 27, 2012 in Literature As children we’re taught many different nursery rhymes. Most seem frivolous and amusing however behind every one is a history and story that’s every bit intriguing as the rhyme itself. Here are the origins of a few … Ride a Cock Horse Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross To see a fine lady upon a white horse; With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, She shall have music wherever she goes. Some argue that only one historic figure could inspire such a rhyme. Step forward Lady Godiva, England’s favourite naked horsewoman. During the 11th century, Leofric, the Earl of Mercia, tried to impose heavy taxes on his countrymen, provoking outrage and near riots. Leofric’s wife, Godgifu (changed over time to Godiva), sympathised with the common people and urged her husband to lower the new taxes he had levied.

Now, Leofric was obviously a man with a sense of humour because he told his wife he would lower taxes only after she had ridden naked through the streets of Coventry. But he hadn’t reckoned upon Godiva’s spirit and, much to his surprise, she agreed to the challenge. The delighted people of Coventry, as a show of respect and to spare her blushes, all agreed to stay indoors, close their shutters and face the other way as the lady passed by. She rode through the streets on her beloved white horse, completely naked apart from her wedding ring (rings on her fingers), and with bells attached to her toes to remind the people of Coventry not to look out of their windows. All the citizens kept their word, except for Tom the tailor, who couldn’t help himself and peeped out through the shutters – hence the expression ‘Peeping Tom’. According to legend, Tom was then struck blind. Doctor Foster In a shower of rain.

He stepped in a puddle Right up to his middle And never went there again One theory runs that the origins of this verse stretch back more than 700 years to Edward I (1239-1307), who was known by the nickname of Dr Foster. (The doctor part perhaps because he was a learned man; the origins of Foster are unknown.) On a visit to Gloucester during a storm, the King rode his horse through what appeared to be a shallow puddle, but it turned out to be a deep ditch. Both King and horse became trapped in the mud and had to be hauled out – to Edward’s fury and embarrassment. The King, also known as ‘Edward the Lawgiver’ and responsible for much of the Tower of London , vowed never to return to Gloucester – and he remained true to his word. Baa Baa Black Sheep And one for the little boy Who lives down the lane. The final line of this rhyme until 1765 went like this: ‘And none for the little boy who cries down the lane.’ It is thought it was changed to make it more pleasant for young ears.

But the original version is at the heart of the meaning of the rhyme, which, unsurprisingly enough, is all about sheep. Sheep have always been important to the rural economy, and by 1260, some flocks consisted of as many as 8,000 animals, tended by a dozen full-time shepherds. When Edward I returned from his crusading in 1272, he imposed new taxes on wool to fund his military campaigns. It was this wool tax that is said to be the basis of the rhyme. One-third of the price of each sack must go to the King (the master); one-third to the Church or the monasteries (the dame); and none to the actual shepherd (the little boy who cries down the lane). Rather than being a gentle song about sharing things out fairly, it’s a bitter reflection on how brutal life was for the working classes. Georgie Porgie Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry; When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away. There is a sinister undertone to this nursery rhyme, but what – and who – is it all about?

One possible candidate for Georgie Porgie is the Prince Regent George IV. Immensely fat (Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie), his corset-wearing was the source of constant ridicule and satirical cartoons. By 1797, his weight had reached 171/2 stone and by 1824 his corsets were being made for a waist of 50 inches. George had a reputation for lechery, and his chequered love life involved several mistresses, illegitimate children and even bigamy. He had a wife, Caroline of Brunswick, whom he detested so much he banned her from his coronation, and a mistress, Maria Anne Fitzherbert (a Roman Catholic and a commoner whom he would never be allowed to marry) – and he managed to make both women miserable (Kissed the girls and made them cry). In addition, although George loved watching prize-fighting ( bareknuckle boxing, which was illegal), his own physical and emotional cowardice was legendary. This is illustrated by a story of the most infamous prize-fight of the day, when one contestant died of his injuries.

George was present, but when the fighter died, the Prince – terrified of being implicated – ran away (when the boys come out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away). Sing a Song of Sixpence Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing; Oh, wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king? The king was in his counting house counting out his money, The queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey. The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose. There are a number of stories about this rhyme, but my favourite centres on a pirate called Blackbeard (c.1680-1718), king of the pirates, who operated around the Caribbean. Before long, several nations had put a price on his head. As a result, he kept a low profile when recruiting new crews. Thus Sing A Song Of Sixpence was a coded message relating to the decent wage on offer.

He also offered seamen a pocket full of rye whisky – a leather pouch holding about a litre of grog – which would have been a big incentive. Blackbeard lured target vessels close by pretending his own was in distress. Little did the sailors realise that 24 of his finest pirates would be lying in wait (four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie) when they came to help. When they drew alongside, Blackbeard’s men would spring into action, usually with fearsome screams and shouts (when the pie was opened the birds began to sing). ‘The king was in his counting house, counting out his money’ obviously refers to the pirate king himself. A slang word for desirable ships, laden with treasure, was ‘maid’, while the waters around the Caribbean were referred to as ‘the garden’ – hence ‘the maid was in the garden’. ‘When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose’ probably refers to Blackbeard’s men – his ‘birds’ – who were always ready to launch a surprise attack on a ship to ‘peck off her nose’ (to grab all the treasure) before the crew realised what was happening.

The History and Origins of Nursery Rhymes in Britain By Ellen Castelow , Contributing Writer | Comments In our earlier article concerning children’s nursery rhymes, we outlined how many of the seemingly childish playground chants appear to have their roots based in historic fact. In the previous article we attempted to provide some background as to the likely content of Little Jack Horner’s pie, the possible association of Ring a Ring O'Roses with the horrors of the 1665 Great Plague , why hush a-bye baby was rocked in the tree-tops and who the quite contrary Mary was. We now attempt to shed light on why they couldn’t put Humpty together again, the tax implications surrounding that Baa Baa Black Sheep, and suggestions as to why ‘when the boys came out to play’, Georgie Porgie ran away. And in addition, why after visiting Gloucester, Doctor Foster never went there again; the tragic love story surrounding that most famous Somerset couple Jack and Jill, as well as suggesting reasons why the weasel goes ‘pop’!

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; All the king’s horses and all the king’s men Couldn’t put Humpty together again Humpty Dumpty was not a person at all, but a massive siege cannon that was used by Royalist forces (the king’s men) during the English Civil War that raged between 1642 and 1651. During the siege of Colchester in 1648, the Royalists hauled Humpty Dumpty to the top of the church tower of St Mary-at-the-Walls, and for eleven weeks Humpty (sat on the wall and) blasted away at the attacking Parliamentarian Roundhead troops, defending the town. Humpty’s great fall came when the church tower was eventually blown up by the Roundheads, and he couldn’t be put together again as he had fallen into, and subsequently had become buried, deep in the surrounding marshland. Without the mighty Humpty Dumpty to defend them, the king’s men led by Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle were soon overrun by the Parliamentarian soldiers of Thomas Fairfax. Baa Baa Black Sheep, And one for the little boy Who lives down the lane.

Not surprisingly this rhyme is all about sheep, and the importance of sheep to the English economy. Until the late 16th century the final lines of the rhyme read “And none for the little boy who cries down the lane.” It was changed to the current version in order to cheer it up and make it into a song more suitable for children. In medieval England, the wool trade was big business. There was enormous demand for it, mainly to produce cloth and everyone who had land, from peasants to major landowners, raised sheep. The great English landowners including lords, abbots and bishops began to count their wealth in terms of sheep, with some flocks totalling over 8,000 animals, all tended by dozens of full-time shepherds. After returning from the crusades in 1272, Edward I imposed new taxes on the wool trade in order to pay for his military ventures. It is believed that this wool tax forms the background to the rhyme.

One-third of the price of each bag, or sack sold, was for the king (the master); one-third to the monasteries, or church (the dame); and none to the poor shepherd (the little boy who cries down the lane) who had tirelessly tended and protected the flock. Georgie Porgie, Kissed the girls and made them cry; When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away. It is thought that the ‘Georgie Porgie’ in question was actually the Prince Regent, later George IV. A tad on the tubby side, George weighed in at more than 17½ stone with a waist of 50 inches (Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie), and as such, he became a constant source of ridicule in the popular press of the time. Despite his large size, George had also established for himself a rather poor reputation for his lusty romps with the fairer sex that involved several mistresses leaving a string of illegitimate children. When he was 23 he fell in love with the beautiful Maria Anne Fitzherbert; he was so besotted with her that he persuaded her to go through with a secret marriage.

The marriage would never have been allowed as Maria was both a commoner, but much, much worse; she was a Roman Catholic! George later went on to marry Catherine of Brunswick , whom he despised so much that he even had her banned her from his coronation. And so George had made both the women in his life miserable (kissed the girls and made them cry). George was well known for his foppish behaviour, and had apparently been at the rear of the class when badges for courage and bravery were handed out. That said, he did enjoy watching other people display these attributes; George was a great fan of bare-knuckle boxing. During one of the illegal prize-fights that George attended, a boxer was knocked to floor and subsequently died of his injuries. Frightened of being implicated, the prince made a very quick exit from the scene (when the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away). Doctor Foster In a shower of rain He stepped in a puddle Right up to his middle And never went there again Although first published in 1844, the origins to this rhyme may date back more than 700 years, to the time of King Edward I.

Edward was known by several nicknames, a powerful man, over six feet tall he was often referred to as Longshanks, but he was also recognised as a clever and learned man and hence earned the title Dr Foster; the origins of the Foster are lost in time. Not a great fan of the Welsh, no doubt Edward was visiting Gloucester due to the town’s strategic position at a major crossing of the River Seven into Wales. The story goes that the king arrived during a storm and mistaking a shallow puddle for a deep ditch steered his horse in that direction. Both horse and rider became trapped in the mire and had to be hauled out; infuriated and no doubt embarrassed by the humiliation, he vowed never to return to the town. Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown And Jill came tumbling after. The small village of Kilmersdon in north Somerset claims to be the home of the Jack and Jill rhyme. Local legend recalls how in the late 15th century, a young unmarried couple regularly climbed a nearby hill in order to conduct their liaison in private, away from the prying eyes of the village.

Obviously a very close liaison, Jill fell pregnant, but just before the baby was born Jack was killed by a rock that had fallen from their ‘special’ hill. A few days later, Jill died whilst giving birth to their love child. Their tragic tale unfolds today on a series of inscribed stones that leads along a path to that ‘special’ hill. Half a pound of tuppenny rice, Half a pound of treacle, That’s the way the money goes, Pop goes the weasel. This very popular music hall song could be heard being performed throughout Victorian London’s many theatres. The origins to the lyrics however, appear to stem from two possible sources. One theory has its origins in the same grimy streets as those Victorian music halls, from the packed sweatshops of Shoreditch and Spitalfields that provided Londoners with their clothing. In the textile industry, a spinner’s weasel is device that is used for measuring out a length of yarn; the mechanism makes a popping sound when the correct length has been reached. No doubt during this highly repetitive and boring work, the spinner’s mind would wander to the more mundane, only to be brought back to harsh reality when the weasel went pop.

The third verse of the same rhyme perhaps suggests an alternative origin, which is based upon the Londoners use of cockney rhyming slang; Up and down the city road, In and out the Eagle, That’s the way the money goes, Pop goes the weasel. To “pop” is a London slang word for pawn. Weasel can be traced to the cockney rhyming slang of “weasel and stoat”, or coat. Even a very poor Victorian Londoner would have had a Sunday best coat or suit that could be pawned when times got hard (Pop goes the weasel), perhaps on cold and damp Monday morning, only to be retrieved on pay day. The Eagle above refers to the Eagle Tavern, a pub located on the corner of City Road and Shepherdness Walk, in the north London district of Hackney. Although the usage of the building has changed over the years, the current Eagle pub dating from the early 1900’s, proudly sports a plaque outlining its association with the nursery rhyme. Tweet If you enjoyed this article, you might also like... Secret London - This unique guide will take you on a journey through London that few others get to see.

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Foster and the Prize Pocket Watch July 23, 2009 by circecalypso I wrote a really bad long/serious story and decided to counter it with a really bad short/light-hearted story. It’s for children. I’ll probably post the long one tomorrow. Dr. Foster and the Prize Pocket Watch In a shower of rain. He stepped in a puddle Right up to his middle And never went there again! “Oh help!” cried Cindy Duck. “For my pocket watch has stopped ticking!” “Allow me to assist you,” offered Fitzwilliam Goose, gallantly. He picked up the gold pocket watch. “How lovely your pocket watch is Cindy Duck, it quite glimmers yellow in the sunlight!” Cindy blushed beneath her feathers. “Ah, I see pink among those quills!” he chuckled. “It’s the curse of white feathers.” “Quite.” “Quite. Now, let’s see to this pocket watch.” The problem, of course, with waterfowl having pocket watches is that they rarely can keep ahold of them.

Such was the case with Fitzwilliam Goose, for though he tried and tried to keep hold of the shiny metal, it slipped through his oiled feathers and into a hole in the ground. Cindy Duck ruffled. “First it stops working, now this! I should have known better than to ask you, you silly goose!” Now Fitzwilliam blushed, though his was not quite as visible through his brown and grey feathers. “We’ll simply have to dig it out!” he cried. She quacked angrily. The goose and the duck got out their shovels and began to dig. They dug and they dug, and the hole got bigger and bigger. “I don’t see any pocket watch!” cried Fitzwilliam, mopping his fore feathers. “This is a vile way to spend a Saturday. I daresay this is the worst way possible. Look at my apron!” As so often happens when one declares to be in the worst possible circumstance, luck decides to prove one wrong. This was no exception. The very instant Cindy Duck said it, the sky burst open and rain began to hammer down. “You and your long beak!” Fitzwilliam honked angrily. “Your whiny antics have become irksome, Madame.

I have tried to help you, and you have done naught but gripe about the soil on your precious white feathers and flowered apron. I’m off to my house. Who wants a duck, anyway?” Away went Fitzwilliam Goose. “I’ll find it myself!” Cindy Duck called after him. She began to dig in earnest, though as she dug, rainwater quickly began filling up her hole. Struggling to dig faster than the rain fell, she enlarged the hole quickly. Soon the sides were three ducks high, but Cindy Duck still had yet to find her pocket watch. “Somebody get me a bucket!” she quacked, for the water at the bottom of the hole had almost reached her neck. Of course, all the other animals had taken shelter within their homes and burrows, and no one heard Cindy Duck cry for a bucket, or probably would have retrieved one for her anyway. Cindy Duck flapped out of the hole and waddled to her garden shed with all speed. At last, finding a bucket from beneath some flowering pots and a garden hose, she hastened back to the road to bail out her hole.

Upon her return, Cindy Duck found her hole had filled to the brim with frothy mud-colored water. “I’ve got to find that pocket watch!” she cried. Giving a wild quack, she dove beak first into the puddle to muck around for it. Now, however important Cindy Duck was, she did not represent the only user of that road. Neither did Fitzwilliam Goose, or even Snodgrass Swan. If Cindy Duck could read, she would have realized the sign for the road said “Gloucester Way.” When anyone was in a hurry to get to Gloucester, they used this road, for though unpaved, it was the straightest course. As it happened, a young boy had fallen ill in Gloucester, and his mother had called the Doctor to come as quickly as he could. Dr. Foster had hastily put on his coat and galoshes, and set out down “Gloucester Way.” He harbored no fear of rain. As a doctor, his duty required he travel to the sickly whatever the weather. Snow was snow, breezes were breezes, and puddles were puddles—nothing to fear.

This day, he noted a rather large puddle, but thought as little as he ever did before stepping into it. SPLASH! Dr. Foster sank, right up to his middle. He cried aloud in outrage. Dr Foster might walk in rain, but he did not swim, nor did he wade. Suddenly he felt a great bite on his leg. “What is that?!” he cried. Struggling to remove his great weight from the hole, Dr. Foster knocked more dirt in as he tried to clamber out. He felt something tugging at his waist. “What is that?!” he cried again. In a rush of adrenaline he launched himself out of the hole, his gut landing on the road. He pushed himself to his feet and ran. Cindy duck was quite pleased with herself. Though that great oaf had stepped on her tail, she’d come away with a far nicer pocket watch than she’d had that morning. She displayed it on her mantle piece at home, admiring the intricately carved “H-J–F-O-S-T-E-R.” Undoubtedly it read “Pocket Watch.” Classic Nursery Rhymes - Susie Tallman & Rock Me Baby Records - Music for Children 2.

Sing A Song of Sixpence Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie; When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing, Wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king? The King was in his counting house, Counting out his money, The Queen was in the parlour, Eating bread and honey, The maid was in the garden, Hanging out the clothes, Then came a little blackbird and pecked off her nose. They sent for the King’s doctor who sewed it on again, They sewed it on so neatly the seem was never seen. Sing a song of sixpence , a pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers; A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked; If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked? 4. Hickory Dickory Dock (Mother Goose) Hickory dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock, The clock struck one, the mouse ran down; Hickory dickory dock.

Hickory dickory doo, the mouse ran in the shoe, The clock struck two, the mouse went “phew”; Hickory dickory doo. Hickory dickory dee, the mouse ran up the tree, The clock struck three, the mouse ran free; Hickory dickory dee. Peter (Maz) Maslen voice & voice-percussion 5. I’m A Little Teapot I’m a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout. When I get all steamed up, then I shout, Just tip me over and pour me out. Half past four and time for tea, sweets for you, sweets for me Peppermint and orange and chamomile, pour some tea and get your fill. I’m a little teapot full of tea, add some milk and sweet honey Stir me with a spoon and drink it up, Out of the pot and into your cup. I’m a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout. When I get all steamed up, then I shout, Just tip me over and pour me out.

Little Miss Muffet, Sat on a Tuffet Eating her curds and whey Along came a spider and sat down beside her And frightened Miss Muffet away. Itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again. 8. Georgie Porgie 1844 J. W. Elliot Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away. 9. Ten Monkeys in the bed There were 10 in the bed and the little one said, “Roll Over, roll over” So they all rolled over and 1 fell out. There were 9 in the bed… Good night! 12. Three Little Kittens Once three little kittens they lost their mittens, And they began to cry, “Oh mother dear, we sadly fear our mittens we have lost.” “What! Lost your mittens? You naughty kittens!

Then you shall have no pie.” “Mee-ow, Mee-ow, Mee-ow, Mee-ow.” Once three little kittens they found their mittens, And they began to cry, “Oh mother dear, see here, see here, Our mittens we have found.” “What! Found your mittens? You darling kittens! Then you shall have some pie.” “Mee-ow, Mee-ow, Mee-ow, Mee-ow.” The three little kittens put on their mittens, And soon ate up the pie; “Oh mother dear, we greatly fear Our mittens we have solied.” “What! Soiled your mittens? You naughty kittens!” Then they began to sigh. “Mee-ow, Mee-ow, Mee-ow, Mee-ow.” 13. Over In The Meadow Over in the meadow, in the sand in the sun, Lived an old mother toadie and her little toadie one. “Wink!” said the mother; “I wink!” said the one, So they winked and they blinked in the sand and the sun.

Over in the meadow, where the stream runs blue, Lived an old mother fish and her little fishes two. “Swim!” said the mother; “We swim!” said the two, So they swam and they leaped where the stream runs blue. Over in the meadow, in a hole in a tree, Lived an old mother bluebird and her little birdies three, “Sing!” said the mother; “We sing!” said the three, So they sang and were glad in a hole in a tree. Over in the meadow, in the reeds on the shore, lived an old mother muskrat and her little ratties four, “Dive!” said the mother; “We Dive” said the four, So they dived and they burrowed in the reeds on the shore. Over in the meadow, in a snug beehive, lived a mother honeybee and her little bees five, “Buzz!” said the mother; “We buzz!” said the five, So they buzzed and they hummed in the snug beehive.

Over in the meadow, in a nest built of sticks, lived a black mother crow and her little crows six, “Caw!” said the mother; “We caw!” said the six, So they cawed and they called in their nest built of sticks. Over in the meadow, where the grass is so even, lived a gay mother cricket and her little crickets seven, “Chirp!” said the mother; “We chirp!” said the seven, So they chirped cheery notes in the grass soft and even. Over in the meadow, by the old mossy gate, lived a brown mother lizard and her little lizards eight, “Bask!” said the mother; “We bask!” said the eight, So they basked in the sun on the old mossy gate. Over in the meadow, where the quiet pools shine, lived a green mother frog and her little froggies nine, “Croak!” said the mother; “We croak!” said the nine, So they croaked and they splashed where the quiet pools shine.

Over in the meadow, in a sly little den, lived a gray mother spider and her little spiders ten, “Spin!” said the mother; “We spin!” said the ten, So they spun lacy webs in their sly little den. 14. Humpty Dumpty (Mother Goose) Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again. This Old Man, he played one, He played nick-nack on my thumb; With a nick-nack Paddy whack, give a dog a bone, This old man came rolling home.

This Old Man, he played two, He played nick-nack on my shoe; This Old Man, he played three, He played nick-nack on my knee; This Old Man, he played four, He played nick-nack on my door; This Old Man, he played five, He played nick-nack on my hive; This Old Man, He played six, He played nick-nack on my sticks; This Old Man, He played seven, He played nick-nack up in heaven; This Old Man, He played eight, He played nick-nack on my gate; This Old Man, He played nine, He played nick-nack on my spine; This Old Man, He played ten, He played nick-nack once again; With a nick-nack Paddy whack, give a dog a bone, This old man came rolling home. 16. There Was A Crooked Man There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile, He found a crooked sixpence upn a crooked stile; He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together in a crooked little house. 17.

Mary Had A Little Lamb (Mother Goose) Mary Had A Little Lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went, Everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go. It followed her to school one day; school one day, school one day, It followed her to school one day which was against the rule; It made the children laugh and play, laugh and play, laugh and play, It made the children laugh and play to see a lamb at school. And so the teacher turned it out, turned it out, turned it out And so the teacher turned it out but still it lingered near, And waited patiently about, patiently about, patiently about It waited patiently about till Mary did appear. “Why does the lamb love Mary so? Mary so, Mary so? Why does the lamb love Mary so?” The eager children cried. “Why, Mary loves the lamb you know, lamb you know, lamb you know Why, Mary loves the lamb you know, the teacher did reply.

Diddle Diddle Dumpling, my son John Went to bed with his stockings on; One shoe off and one shoe on, Diddle diddle, dumpling, my son John 20. Hey Diddle Diddle Hey, diddle, diddle! The cat and the fiddle! The cow jumped over the moon; the little dog laughed, to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon. 21. Three Blind Mice Three blind mice, three blind mice, see how they run, see how they run, They all ran after the farmer’s wife, who cut off their tails with a carving knife; Did you ever hear such a thing in your life? As three blind mice. 22. Old King Cole (Mother Goose) Old King Cole was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe And he called for his bowl And he called for his fiddlers three! Every fiddler he had a fine fiddle, And a very fine fiddle had he; Oh, there’s none so rare as can compare With King Cole and his fiddlers three!

Old King Cole was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe And he called for his bowl And he called for his mandolines three! Every player had a fine mandoline, and a fine mandoline had he; Oh, there’s none so rare as can compare With King Cole and his mandolines three! Old King Cole was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe And he called for his bowl And he called for his bass players three! Every player he had a fine bass, and a very fine bass had he; Oh, there’s none so rare as can compare With King Cole and his bass players three! Old King Cole was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe And he called for his bowl And he called for his guitars three! Every player had a fine guitar, and a fine guitar had he; Oh, there’s none so rare as can compare With King Cole and his guitar players three! Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow? With silver bells and cockleshells and pretty maids all in a row. 24.

Pat-A-Cake Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker’s man, Bake me a cake just as fast as you can; Pat it and pat it and mark it with B, Put it in the oven for baby and me, For baby and me, for baby and me, Put it in the oven for baby and me. Jack and Jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. Up Jack got and home did trot as fast as he could caper, Went to bed to mend his head, with vinegar and brown paper. Jill came in and she did grin to see his paper plaster Mother vexed, did scold her next, For causing Jack’s disaster. Doctor Foster went to Gloucester In a shower of rain; He stepped in a puddle right up to his middle And never went there again. 28. It’s Raining It’s Pouring/Rain Rain Go Away It’s raining it’s pouring the old man is snoring, went to bed, bumped his head, wouldn’t get up until morning. Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.

It’s raining it’s pouring the old man is snoring, went to bed, bumped his head, wouldn’t get up until morning. Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep, And can’t tell where to find them; Leave them alone, and they’ll come home wagging their tails behind them. Little Bo Peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating; But when she awoke she found it a joke, for still they all were fleeting. Then up she took her little crook, determined for to find them; She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, For they’d left their tails behind them. 30. Going To St. Ives AS I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives; Each wife had seven sacks, Each sack had seven cats, Each cat had seven kits, Kits, cats, sacks and wives, How many were going to St. Ives? (answer: one) I had a little nut tree, nothing would it bear, But a silver nutmeg and a golden pear. The king of Spain’s son the prince, Came to visit me, And all for the sake of my little nut tree. 32.

Mulberry Bush Here we go round the Mulberry Bush, the Mulberry Bush, the Mulberry Bush, Here we go round the Mulberry bush, so early in the morning. 33. Baa Baa Black Sheep Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full; One for my master, one for my dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane. Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full; One for my master, one for my dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane. 34. There Was An Old Woman There was an old woman tossed up in a basket, Seventeen times as high as the moon; And where she was going I couldn’t but ask it, For in her hand she carried a broom. “Old woman, old woman, old woman,” said I, “Oh whither, oh whither, oh whither so high?” “To sweep the cobwebs off the sky.” “May I go with you?” “Aye, by and by.” 35.

The Owl and the Pussycat The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea In a beautiful light-green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Kitty! O Kitty, my love, What a beautiful Kitty you are, you are, you are, What a beautiful Kitty you are." Kitty said to the Owl "You elegant fowl, How charmingly sweet you sing. O let us be married, too long we have tarried; But what shall we do for a ring?" They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the Palm-tree grows, And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose, With a ring at the end of his nose. "Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will" So they took it away, and were married next day By the Turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon.

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand. They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon, They danced by the light of the moon. 37. Wynken, Blynken, And Nod Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe, Sailed on a river of crystal light Into a sea of dew. “Where are you going, and what do you wish?” The old moon asked the three. “We have come to fish for the herring fish that live in the beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we,” Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. The old moon laughed and sang a song, As they rocked in the wodden shoe; And the wind that sped them all night long Ruffled the waves of dew; The little stars were the herring fish that lived in the beautiful sea. “Now cast your nets wherever you wish, Never afeared are we!” So cried the stars to the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

All night long their nets they threw to the stars in the twinkling foam, then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, Bringing the fishermen home: ‘Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed As if it could not be; And some folk thought ‘twas a dream they’d dreamed Of sailing that beautiful sea; But I shall name you the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. Wynken, Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one’s trundle-bed; So shut your eyes while Mother sings of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things as you rock on the misty sea Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. Dr Foster: The BBC's New Crap Drama Is Addictive As Hell - Sabotage Times Dr Foster: The BBC's New Crap Drama Is Addictive As Hell Sometimes a middle class potboiler with ludicrous plotlines and nice kitchens is exactly what you need. Avatar: Social count: 4 Sometimes a middle class potboiler with ludicrous plotlines and nice kitchens is exactly what you need.

4 0 ‘Do you watch Dr Foster?’ my dentist asked me just before she gave me an injection of Novocaine and drilled unforgivingly into my head. ‘I’ve heard it was a bit rubbish.’ I replied. ‘Well, there are a few unlikely scenarios, but sometimes you don’t want to think too hard when you’re watching telly, do you?’ You certainly don’t. Thinking is the very worst thing you can do when you’re watching dramas with Suranne Jones in them. So, to me, this was as good a recommendation as any. With a numb face and an aching jaw, I settled down to binge watch this Daily Mail middle-aged lady potboiler, which is being frantically talked about by all women over the age of 35. I tell you, the ladies at the school gates were all over this shit like a Cath Kidston sale. Anyway, it turned out my dentist was right - thinking definitely wasn’t required. It was about a GP called Gemma Foster whose husband was having an affair. Also, it was set in a small town which looked suspiciously like Gloucester.

(Or it could have been Hereford.) This kind of logic led me to think that Dr Foster - as the nursery rhyme goes - was going to end up in a puddle right up to her middle, but it turned out she and her husband, Simon, who looked like a fuzzy photofit of Giles Coren, were already in deep shit. Simon seemed like an all-round nice guy who might be found buying a Fairtrade coffee from the back of a customised tuk tuk at Bestival. He had a beard and a friendly underbite. He was a Good Dad. However, he was a total bastard, at it with a 23 year old blonde. Also, he owned his own property development company, which everyone knows is dramatic shorthand for ‘cunt.’ Dr Foster first suspected he was having an affair because she found a blonde hair on his scarf. All other women in the world would suspect that their husband - who perhaps works with humans, some of whom have hair - might have picked this up from the back of a chair or something. Luckily for the plot, though, she found other evidence to back up his guilt.

At Simon’s 40th birthday BBQ, she searched his car and found a secret phone with a picture of him and the 23 year old on it, and a gold foiled packet of condoms. She may as well have walked in on them doing it angry style on a sex swing. Or perhaps unfurled a banner with ‘YES I AM HAVING AN AFFAIR’ written on it in crayon. Things carried on in a frankly fucking ludicrous vein, while stretching the boundaries of medical credulity more than Carry On Matron. Dr Foster did lots of diagnoses in the car park, took half days to investigate her partner’s indiscretions, and her colleagues ignored their overstretched clinics to have emergency meetings about her love life. Her only real patient was a bespectacled Penfold-esque hypochondriac, whom she was always sympathetic to. This showed she was a brilliant doctor. She WAS a brilliant doctor, you know. She didn’t quite have a t-shirt with ‘I’m a brilliant doctor’ on it, but nearly. There were also varyingly treacherous and ludicrous subplots involving domestic violence, alcoholism and property development.

People said exposition-tastic things like: ‘I’m a 37 year old woman who is good at my job’ and ‘Mum, Dad’s more fun than you, you’re always working.’ It was great. My favourite bit was when - at the end of her tether with her husband’s lies - Dr Foster stood up at a dinner party and shouted: ‘I’m a WOLF TONIGHT!’ and amazingly, nobody laughed. Maybe she was thinking of that other acclaimed BBC drama, The Three Billy Goats Gruff. Anyway, things came ludicrously to a head, with Dr Foster engaging in lots of convoluted ways to make Simon feel bad, as she realised he’d got the 23 year old pregnant (but what about all those gold condoms??). The doc slept with everyone, did a lot of background wheeling and dealing, pretended to kidnap her irritating tween son who looked like he was wearing a wig, and created terribly awkward scenes in people’s kitchens. There were a lot of nice kitchens in Dr Foster. Everyone had a kitchen island and lovely downlighters and cooker hoods, and the women had glasses of chilled white wine in their hands at all times.

At one point, I thought it was just a rather dramatic advert for Magnet. Still, I loved every stupid minute of it. Even though Dr Foster was a ludicrous middle-class potboiler masquerading as serious drama, it was Novocaine for the soul. Actually, it was exactly what the dentist ordered. THE NURSERY RHYME THE NURSERY RHYME: A SHARP AND CUTTING WEAPON OF POLITICAL DISSIDENT By Wakeley Paul With this ancient rhyme, I invite you to read this article with a different twist. I hope you will find it to be both unique and fascinating.

Before launching into my main theme, I use two short rhymes to show how effectively they can be used to express opposite concepts with the use of the same words, slightly altered Early to bed, Early to rise, Will make you healthy, wealthy and wise James Thurber, the modern humorist, altered these words of wisdom by an old stage to reflect how this should read in this day and age, with its long working hours, intense ambitions to fulfill and its accompanying stress Early to rise and early too bed Will make you healthy, wealthy and dead The Tamil community is at the present time awash with dissidents in EELAM, in Sri Lanka and everywhere abroad. Press censorship in Sri Lanka knows no bounds. The banning of the L T T E as a 'terrorist organization' by the Sri Lankan government; and other governments at the behest of the Sri Lankan government; was designed to discourage support for a Federal or Separate state, for which this party stands and fights. This makes communication between supportive dissidents vital to our cause.

It is with this in mind, that I revert to the long period in English history, where dissidents used the innocuous sounding nursery rhyme to transmit forbidden messages, sneering and making fun of the unpopular and objectionable antics of their royal rulers. The Nursery Rhymes of England were long standing English creations, written at times when their was considerable peasant dissatisfaction with Royal Rule. These sometimes soothing, sometimes perky little rhymes had a far deeper meaning than their catching verses suggest. Those of us who were reared in the English language, were soothed to sleep or entertained in school with these delightful ditties, without the slightest idea of their deeper insidious significance. Today's dissidents and opposers of government tyranny could learn well from these elegant ways of scorning our rulers without being subject to the scissors of the censor Let me commence with this galloping chime Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross, To see a white lady upon a white horse, Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, And she shall have music wherever she goes This dancing melody depicts the story of the Queen of England who went to Banbury to see a stone cross that had just been erected atop a steep hill.

On her arrival, a decorated rocking horse was attached to her coach by the people, ostensibly to help her horses to pull the coach up the hill to reach the cross. This was a sneering dig at her pomp and her power . With all of her horses and her beautiful coach, she needed a child's rocking horse [ cockhorse] to make the approach. It did not stop there. The story went that a wheel of the carriage broke, so she abandoned her coach and abandoned her horses and had to ride up on the hill on the cockhorse alone. [Ride a cockhorse to Banbury Cross] This was like a modern day biting cartoon pooh pooping the pomp, the ceremony and pageantry of the Queen. [Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes; and she shall music wherever she goes] Yet, she had to use a child's plaything to ride up the hill, to see a cross made by the people. It depicted her pomp and pageantry as a mere facade, used to prop her up. The Royal censors would not be able to discover the originator of the rhyme to punish him for his audacity. It was unacceptable to mock the Queen and her power with such lack of respect.

If they did find the culprit, the punishment was as bad as that inflicted by successive Sri Lankan governments on our own Tamil dissidents, for their scathing contempt and condemnation of our Sinhala rulers There is another version that attributes the origin to Lady Godiva, who accepted her husband's [ Earl Leofric of Marcia's] wager, that she would ride through the streets of Coventry without any clothes, if he would remove a punitive tax he had imposed. She rode a white horse, decked in only in trinkets on her fingers and toes. The people put up their shutters while she rode through the streets to fight their cause . A fine story of a noble lady who resisted the unfair imposition of taxes by her very own nobility. Ride the cockhorse to Banbury Cross, probably symbolized their refusal to humiliate her by viewing this spectacle. They could not get to Banbury Cross on a cockhorse to witness her humiliation. And she will have music wherever she goes reflected the people singing their praises for ever thereafter to honor her unselfish act in such a noble cause How could the censor suspect their true intent.

The next rhyme by contrast, is a plaintive cry, which goes: Bye Baby Bunting, Gone to get a rabbit skin, To wrap his bay bunting in Oh, what a grieving song of discontent. What the poor have to suffer to provide the basic necessities for their loved ones, is a fate to cry over. Go hunting for clothing while leaving the poor little baby bunting behind. It is a sad, haunting plea to the people to make them realize the misfortune of their fate and plight. They were obviously dealing with a complacent population who has to be whipped up to take action to free themselves from what they believed was their preordained destiny. Tamil activists are more than familiar with this malaise. This idea of a pre- ordained destiny is even more deeply rooted in societies like ours, where the power of the horoscope is all consuming. It is hard to shake people out of their complacency when they believe that their destiny is shaped by the stars rather than by their efforts. There are many who combine the influence of the stars with a desire to accomplish the seemingly impossible, but usually, they are the activists, not the objects of the activist's exhilarating exhortations.

Despite this apparent obstacle, the efforts of the activists have not gone unheeded. The people have shaken off their previous destiny in search of new horizons. We next have the funny, jolly rhyme that laughed at King Edward I of England who was made to look like a fool on one of his pompous regal trips to parts of his kingdom Dr Foster went to Gloucester In a shower of rain, He stepped in a puddle Right up to his middle And never went back again King Edward I traveled to Gloucester in the middle of a rain storm. When he got there. his horse fell; and the king and the horse wound up in s puddle of mud. It was a pathetic and humiliating sight for King to be in. The townsfolk had to use planks of wood to rescue the king and his horse from the utterly undignified situation he found himself in. It certainly was not a fate befitting a King. The King ranted and raved and swore he would never return to Gloucester again. The writer could not resist spreading the news of the Kings misfortune and awkward predicament all around. The King could do little to refute the truth, while the people celebrated his fall by singing this verse wherever and whenever they could.

I follow this with the verse which beckons Marjorie Daw to listen to what they have to say about her husband Jackie. It opens with a swaying seductive plea of a horn, addressing her, and then spits out a sharp but realistic revelation with the precision, speed and rhythm of a military band. The sweet lilting start in contrast to the harsh but true message, delivered with the swiftness of a military drum beat, adds pungency to its significance. The drum beat was like a heart thumping anxiously as it listened to this crippling news See Saw, Marjorie Daw, Jackie shall have a new master, Jackie shall have but a penny a day, Because Jackie can't work any faster This portrays the plight of the average fellow, the simple ordinary working man. It does not matter, who his master is, for whoever he is, what ever he's like, Jackie will always be the same helpless little pawn, quite unable to better himself His choice is no choice. Where ever he turned, he would always be spurned, and always returned, to the place he once spurned.

His was a cramped destiny, to stay still, with no where to go, no hope or expectations of anything better to look forward to in the future. By implication, this rhyme is intended as a clarion call to stir him to swim out of these still waters and into the open ocean with fresh horizons. Heresy , Heresy, like those of us who proclaim separation or meaningful Federalism as an answer to the Sri Lankan government's insistence on brow beating us and keeping us in our place, never to rise; never to rule; and always be ruled by them through an their highly prized gift of an Unitary Constitution The next rhyme is announced with the ringing of bells and changes immediately into a pulsing drum beat. Ding Dong Bell Who pulled her out, What a naughty boy was that Little Tommy Stout To try to drown a little pussy cat Who never did him any harm and killed the mice in his father's farm An ingenious though much d[isputed explanation is that this tells the tale of the forgotten farmer, who feeds his master with the foods he grows, but is treated and disregarded as if he did not exist. He was there because he had to be.

Even though he is needed for the masters sustenance, he is viewed as something distant and unimportant. This is the message being broadcast to those poor feudal waifs and wretches who were born to serve their noble masters, implying that they should assert themselves to change their fate, as their masters could not survive without them This was not just a verse about a thoughtless and cruel little boy. It had a deeper message, urging the serf to recognize his potential and importance in life and not tolerate being tossed around like the helpless little pussy cat who killed the mice on his masters farm. The next happy sing sing verse is loaded with messages and warnings that are terse.

Sing a song of six pence, A pocket full of Rye, Four and Twenty black birds, Baked in a pie When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing, Isn't that a dainty dish To set before the King The King was in his counting house, Counting out his money The Queen was in the parlor, Eating bread and honey; The maid was in the garden, Hanging out the clothes When down came a blackbird And pecked off her nose A clever, but once again questioned version as to its origin is that Sing a song of six pence highlights the contrasting plight of the poor hardworking slob with that of their masters [ Royalty and the nobility in feudal times]. Six pence and a pocket full of rye contrasted with four and twenty black birds baked in a pie. There is the King in his counting house counting out his money, the Queen in her parlor, eating bread and honey, while the unfortunate maid is outside in the garden, slaving away, only to be attacked by a cruel black bird, who pecks off her nose. The bird represents her superiors descending from their perch on high, All she can expect for her efforts is blame and criticism.

What kind of a fate is that, the verse queries. Certainly not one to be accepted in silence. So you have the birds that began to sing when the pie was open. This was the subtle warning that the suppressed would rise and have their voices heard and their freedoms achieved; a warning to an unsuspecting king, who is delighted rather than fore warned by this pleasing but insidious omen There is a dull but inexplicable more accepted version that says that this refers to a time when live birds were put under the pie crust at the banquets of the privileged; and added that the pocket full of rye may have been an unit of measurement. This does not account for the significance of much of the rest of the verse, nor does it express surprise and innovation, if it was the custom of the privileged to have live birds under the pie crust. He put in his thumb And pulled out a plumb, And said what a good boy am I This was a cutting satire on the power and influence of dishonesty in the Royal Kingdom. The Bishop of Glastonbury heard that King Henry Xiii was after the Glastonbury holdings.

The Bishop , hurriedly sent his steward Jack Horner with a Christmas pie filled with twelve deeds to other manorial , to appease the King and save his lands. Not to be outdone, Jack Horner, while on the way, pulled out and retained the deed to the plum of these lands, The Manor of Mells and kept it for himself. [put in his thumb and pulled out a plum] This irony of the dishonest feeding on the dishonest and pretending to be saintly thereafter, [and said what a good boy am I], has a sharp and telling edge to it. The saddest irony however, is that the Horner family owns and profits from this estate today, not something the authors anticipated. Ring a Ring a Roses A pocket full of posies, Agh Tissue, Agh Tissue Ashes, Ashes [American alternative] And we all fall down. was a stark warning to the public of the onset of the plague. The plague was associated with vile and pungent smells, so they recommended a pocket full of roses to ward off this evil or else they would sneeze and sneeze and all succumb to the disease.

Ashes, Ashes signified the consequence of contacting the plague.So the nursery rhyme was also used to broadcast news of impending disasters. Down will come baby and cradle and all This is hardly a soothing theme to lull a baby to sleep with. Here the message passed along was, "All is quiet on the western front", but this is the calm before the storm, and when the storm blows, the whole soothed and contented royal regime will collapse. The King, the son of James II, is the spoiled and soothed baby in the cradle, resting peacefully till the storm hits, the storm being the revolt of the people. Not a thought to be tolerated by the Kings supporters. It had to be spread through the innocuous means of the Nursery Rhyme. Talk of the Sinhalese losing power over us through federalism or separation is anathema to them. The very mention of these concepts is like heresy to their ears. They refuse to envisage such a fall from grace; for theirs is the Kingdom; and so it will remain. The Tamils will wait and wait for the fall, with the hope and the patience that governs them all.

The time will come when the peace process breaks, and down will come government and President and all. The subtlety of the warning in this rhyme is a masterpiece of deception. An American version is that this was written by an original pilgrim who saw the Wampanago Indian women hang the decorated cradles of their babies on the branches of trees while they worked on the corn and maize fields. This had no message and sounds like an American innovation and heartless distortion off its true origin. made up asfter the nursery rhyme was well known. Here comes a candle to light you to bed, Here comes a chopper to chop off your head . This seems somewhat self evident. Be warned, they come with flowers concealing daggers. Do not be duped by sweet offerings and promises, they are designed to do you in. One wonders whether the Kings retinue would not have seen through this in a flash, but this was disguised with what went before, which was Say the Bells of St.Clement's You owe me five farthings, Say the Bells of St Martins.

When will you pay me Say the Bells of Old Bailey When I grow rich, Say the Bells of Shoreditch When will that be Say the Bells of Stepney I'm sure I don't know, Says the great bell at Bow They will come to get you for the taxes you owe, they will come with a candle to say its all legal, and be ready to kill you when you owe them yet more. The Old Bailey and the Court at Bow Street are the King's higher and lower courts of criminal law, through which punishments are imposed. Baa Baa Black Sheep, And one for the little boy, Who lives down the lane This was a sad lament on the inequity of the tax system in the middle ages. The poor hard working peasant farmer, was left with only one third of his earnings after taxes.

A third went to his master [The King] , a Third to the Dame [ the nobility that owned the land] and just third was left for the little boy [ the peasant], who lives down the lane What an ingenious way of spreading the news of their exploitation and singing it aloud while avoiding the harsh hand of the Royal censors, who probably also sang along with them, without a thought as to the message being spread. It adds to the irony and power of the Nursery Rhyme as a way of firing up the wrath of the community against the unacceptable status quo without the authorities realizing it. Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, All the Kings horses and all the Kings men, Couldn't put Humpty together again. which symbolizes the final dream. Humpty Dumpty was a common nickname for a fat slob in the 1400's The fat, obese King, is compared to the fragile egg, which, when cracked, like virginity, is lost for ever. The analogy is vivid, with the equally vivid follow up. Once he falls, not all the Kings infantry or all the King's cavalry could ever resurrect him again.

This jaunty little nursery rhyme told the story of the Kings unfortunate but much celebrated destiny. As a nursery rhyme it was sung with delight by the populace while the censors probably listened serenely, not knowing that it celebrated their extinction. This is supposed to refer to King Charles I, who was toppled by a majority of the members of parliament and was ultimately executed. The people prevailed over the King, even though the average man did not have the right to vote at that time. It yet celebrated the the diminution of the power of the Royal proclamation.. The "Puritans" had out voted him the King Parliament and finally ousted him from power. Another well accepted version is that "Humpty Dumpty" represented a powerful cannon the Royalists used to defend Colchester during the civil war between the Royalists and parliamentarians, in 1642-49 , The Royalists had captured and controlled the parliamentary stronghold of Colchester for 11 weeks The cannon was mounted atop the tower of St Mary's church in Colchester.. The parliamentarians succeeded in blowing the top of the tower off and the cannon came tumbling down. Neither the King's cavalry or the Kings infantry could put the cannon back together again.

It symbolized the victory of the people's representatives over the King. Even though the average man did not have the vote at that time, it symbolized popular rule over Royal decree. There are many more, too many for an article of this length. I could add a second follow up chapter if the readers are interested. "Georgie Porgy, pudding and pie" Jack & Jill" "The Old woman in a shoe" "Jack Sprat" to name a few, all full of cutting political innuendo. I end this article with a buoyant, cheery happy song which calls the world out to play and enjoy themselves with whatever meager resources they have. This in contrast to the others gives a happy twist to life, the kind of uplift our fighting forces and their stoic supporters in the Vanni so badly need, in these harshest of times. It tells them you can make do with what you have to enjoy yourselves; and nothing should deter you. Boys and girls come out to play, The moon doth shine as bright as day. Leave your supper and leave your sleep, And join your playfellows in the street.

Come with a whoop and come with a call, Come with a good will or not at all. Up the ladder and down the wall, A half penny loaf will serve us all; You find milk and I'll find flour, And we'll having pudding in half an hour. How much more joyous can one get ? Especially in times of stress, people need to relax their flesh, and dance and sing and have a good time, for life is not just a tale of woe. It is a time to celebrate, with what ever is there, to enjoy it with. One version says this celebrates the time when children were treated as adults and could be out at night even after the moon rose. I am not urging today's dissidents to be copy cats and use the same modem for making inspiring communications or sending happy tidings of joy. It would be a civilized and powerful weapon for dissidents to use a refined alternative to this classic English medium to transmit biting criticisms of government policy, or messages of hope or concern to others, without indulging in the kind of crude discourse that now dominates the Sri Lankan Parliament.

May the Tamils proclaim their discontent in an ancient language capable of the refined expression of the type and style we have witnessed above In conclusion, I will leave you with a riddle and ask you to figure out what this puzzling nursery rhyme that meant Hey diddle diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed And the dish ran away with the spoon * There are other versions of origins not included here for reasons of economy.

Question: In a nursery rhyme, where did Dr Foster step into a puddle right up to his middle?
Answer: Gloucester