United States or Italy ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"She too ugly ter suit me." "Whose fault is it but yours?" cried Chickamy Crany Crow. "Yes, whose fault is it?" cried Tickle-My-Toes. "Come, come!" cries Mrs. Meadows. "We want no trouble here." "We'll not trouble her," answered Tickle-My-Toes. "Old Rawhead-and-Bloody-Bones will do the troubling." "Now you all heah dat!" exclaimed Drusilla, in some alarm.
"Oh," answered Chickamy Crany Crow, smiling for the first time, "there are plenty of names in the books that you never hear of; but now, wherever little children get together to play games, you will hear them saying the rhyme that tells a part of my story, "'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow, Went to the well to wash her toe, But when she got back her chicken was gone."
"'Chickamy, Chickamy Crany Crow, Went to the well to wash her toe, And when she came back her chicken was gone. That's the rhyme we say in the game, but we never heard the story." "I can't tell it to so many," said Chickamy Crany Crow. "Well, tell it to me, then," replied Mrs. Meadows coaxingly. "The rest won't listen any more than they can help."
Buster John, Sweetest Susan, and Drusilla laughed so heartily at this that Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes didn't wait to repeat the chorus of the song, but ran away, pretending to be very much frightened. This made the children laugh still more, and for the first time they felt thoroughly at home in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country.
Chickamy Crany Crow had two sticks, and with these she was playing on an imaginary fiddle. Tickle-My-Toes had the broom, and this, he pretended, was a banjo. The two queer-looking creatures wagged their heads from side to side and patted the ground with their feet, just as though they were making sure-enough music, and presently Tickle-My-Toes sang this song to a very lively tune:
While Buster John, Sweetest Susan, and Drusilla were watching Chickamy Crany Crow and Tickle-My-Toes run away, and laughing at them, suddenly the sky in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer country grew brighter. The dark shadow of the buttermilk-jug had disappeared, and there were wavering lines of white light flashing across, as though the sun were trying to shine through.
"'What is your name? says she. "'Chickamy Crany Crow, says I. "'What are you doing here? says she. "Says I, 'I went to the well to wash my toe, but when I came back my chicken was gone. "Then the old woman began to laugh like a cackling hen, and she laughed so loud and laughed so long that it scared me.
Meadows, as Chickamy Crany Crow tried to pull her hand away; "you must stay right here and tell the children the story of the Witch of the Well." "They know it already," said Chickamy Crany Crow, trying to hide behind Mrs. Meadows's chair. "No, we don't," exclaimed Buster John. "We know the old rhyme about
The Thatcher boys never hed any luck gettin' married, 'n' they always took disappointments in love turrible hard. You know Cyrus set in that front winder o' Mis' Thatcher's, 'n' rocked back 'n' forth for ten year, till he wore out five cane-bottomed cheers, 'n' then rocked clean through, down cellar, all on account o' Crany Ann Sweat.
The clock struck one And bowed to the sun; But the sun was fast asleep you know; And the moon was quick, With her oldtime trick To hide from Chick Chickamy Chickamy Crany Crow! Chickamy what? and Chickamy which? She went to the well and fell in the ditch; What o'clock, old Witch? Oh, sad to tell!
Word Of The Day