Her request’s granted —
Queer little boy!
Dad don’t think him much,
Still he’s ma’s joy.
Up to funny tricks
All the day long,
Blithe as a cricket
Singing some song.
Dame made a pudding,
Suet and plum;
Into it tumbled
Little Tom Thumb.
Struggling in the cloth,
Frightened ma so:
‘Surely it’s bewitched !
Hi! Pedler Joe!’
When on his shoulder
Out Tommy popped,
Alarmed the pedler,
Who pudding dropped.
Jack must secure prize
For own eating.
Cuts into dumplings,
For ease retreating.
Once tied to thistle,
To keep from harm,
The old cow ate him—
Oh, what alarm !
But her throat’s tickled ;
He strives to rise,
And with cough comes up—
Great their surprise !
Tom wore a small sword,

And the folks say

 

He was a biggish man
In his small way.
Once as he’s digging —
Oh, how absurd !—
Raised by his trousers
In beak of bird ;
Nice dainty morsel
To feed her brood.
But Tom’s ire rises,
And fate withstood ;
Fought like a tiger
When in the nest —
His new friends came off
But second-best.
One baby eagle
He killed outright,
Then dodged to ’scape from
The mother’s spite ;
Till, quick and sudden,
She has pounced down,
Drags him o’er water,
And drops to drown.
But a fish rising,
With open jaws,
Gives warm reception ;—
Tom only roars.
Fish can’t make him out,
And, deep in thought,
Soon in a cast-net
Finds himself caught.
King Arthur's cook: bought
And cut up fish,
Tom makes his exit
And bows from dish.