Happy Homepage
Akira Avenue
Angels A to Z
Ayliyah Avenue
Brody Close
Bruno's Bedtime
Choocho Station
Comfort Valley
Corey's Castle
Dinah's Drive
Dino's Burger.
Dionne Bridge
Disney Drive
Donna's Diner
Fairy Square
Ffordd Llyfr
Ha-Ha Arcade
Happy Mansions
Jaimie's Zoo
J.J's Junction
Jo's Galleon
K. K's Square
Kid's House
Kid's Treasury
Kindness Street
King P. Palace
Knock Meadow
Lily's Yard
Monty's Circus
Minnie Marsh
Molly Melody
Noah's Ark
Nonsense Avenue
Nursery Land
Odhran's Tale
Pastimes
Penguin Avenue
Pleasure Land
Pooh's Park
Princess Way
Prudence Close
Prince's Alley
Queen P Palace
Rabbit's Warren
Sage Rise
Scotch Corner
Scrap City
Spiggy Square
Studio Ghibli
Sunday School
Tilly Teapot
Toby Bucket
Unicorn Meadow
Merry - Land
Blog
Photo's
Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere
Prince's Alley

THE DRUM
by the wonderful Eugene Field

I'm a beautiful, red, red drum,
And I train with the soldier boys,
As up the street we come,
Wonderful is our noise!
There's Tom, and Jim, and Phil,
And Dick, and Nat, and Fred,
While Widow Cutler's Bill
and I march on ahead,
With a r - r - rat - tat - tat
And a tum - titty - um -tum - tum ----
Oh, there's bushels of fun in that
For boys with a little red drum!

The Indians came last night,red drum
While the soldiers were in bed,
And they gobbled a Chinese kite
And off to the woods they fled!
The woods are the cherry trees
Down in the orchard lot,
And the soldiers are marching to seize
The booty the Indians got.
With a tum - titty - um -tum - tum ----
And r - r - rat - tat - tat,
When soldiers marching come,
Indians had better scat!
 

Humpty and Alice xxx



 DIDDILY DEE DOT'S DREAM LAND

PULL UP ALLEY
I would like to leave you an extract from Lewis Carrolls'

Alice through the Looking Glass.

 HUMPTY DUMPTY'S POEM


'I read it in a book,' said Alice. 'But I had some poetry repeated to me much easier than that, by — Tweedledee, I think.'

'As to poetry, you know,' said Humpty Dumpty, stretching out one of his great hands, 'I can repeat poetry as well as other folk, if it comes to that —'

'Oh, it needn't come to that!' Alice hastily said, hoping to keep him from beginning.

'The piece I'm going to repeat,' he went on without noticing her remark, 'was written entirely for your amusement.'

Alice felt that in that case she really ought to listen to it; so she sat down, and said 'Thank you' rather sadly,

             In winter, when the fields are white,
             I sing this song for your delight -

only I don't sing it,' he added, as an explanation.

'I see you don't,' said Alice.

'If you can see whether I'm singing or not, you've sharper eyes than most,' Humpty Dumpty remarked severely. Alice was silent.

            In spring, when woods are getting green,
            I'll try and tell you what I mean.

'Thank you very much,' said Alice.

              In summer, when the days are long,

              perhaps you'll understand this song:

'I will, if I can remember it so long,' said Alice.

'You needn't go on making remarks like that,' Humpty Dumpty said: 'they're not sensible, and they put me out.'

'I sent a message to the fish:
I told them "This is what I wish."
The little fishes of the sea,
They sent an answer back to me.
The little fishes' answer was
"We cannot do it, Sir, because —"'

'I'm afraid I don't quite understand,' said Alice.
'It gets easier further on,' Humpty Dumpty replied.

'I sent to them again to say
"It will be better to obey."
The fishes answered, with a grin,
"Why, what a temper you are in!"
I told them once, I told them twice:
They would not listen to advice.
I took a kettle large and new,
Fit for the deed I had to do.
My heart went hop, my heart went thump:
I filled the kettle at the pump.
Then some one came to me and said
"The little fishes are in bed."
I said to him, I said it plain,
"Then you must wake them up again."
I said it very loud and clear:
I went and shouted in his ear.'

Humpty Dumpty raised his voice almost to a scream as he repeated this verse, and Alice thought with a shudder, 'I wouldn't have been the messenger for anything!'

'But he was very stiff and proud:
He said, "You needn't shout so loud!"
And he was very proud and stiff:
He said "I'd go and wake them, if —"
I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
I went to wake them up myself.
And when I found the door was locked,
I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.
And when I found the door was shut,
I tried to turn the handle, but—'

There was a long pause.

'Is that all?' Alice timidly asked.

'That's all,' said Humpty Dumpty. 'Good-bye.'

This was rather sudden, Alice thought: but, after such a very strong hint that she ought to be going, she felt that it would hardly be civil to stay. So she got up, and held out her hand. 'Good-bye, till we meet again!' she said as cheerfully as she could.

'I shouldn't know you again if we did meet,' Humpty Dumpty replied in a discontented tone, giving her one of his fingers to shake: 'you're so exactly like other people.'

'The face is what one goes by, generally,' Alice remarked in a thoughtful tone.

'That's just what I complain of,' said Humpty Dumpty. 'Your face is the same as everybody has — the two eyes, so —' (marking their places in the air with his thumb) 'nose in the middle, mouth under. It's always the same. Now if you had the two eyes on the same side of the nose, for instance — or the mouth at the top — that would be some help.'

'It wouldn't look nice,' Alice objected. But Humpty Dumpty only shut his eyes, and said 'Wait till you've tried.'

Alice waited a minute to see if he would speak again, but, as he never opened his eyes or took any further notice of her, she said 'Good-bye!' once more, and, getting no answer to this, she quietly walked away: but she couldn't help saying to herself, as she went, 'of all the unsatisfactory —' (she repeated this aloud, as it was a great comfort to have such a long word to say) 'of all the unsatisfactory people I ever met —' She never finished the sentence, for at this moment a heavy crash shook the forest from end to end.


I know many of you will have read Alice in Wonderland, but I am sure you will be able to enjoy Alice Through the Looking Glass just as much.  Come on, Give it a try. Mum and Dad will help, or if your really lucky you could ask the teacher at school to get one of the older children to read it with you. Great Fun. xxx Diddily Dee Dot. xxx


 DIDDILY DEE DOT'S DREAM LAND

PULL UP ALLEY

Wynken, Blynken and Nod


And what better way to open today's new page,
than with a wonderful piece of Theatre from
The One, The Only, Mr. Eugene Field 




BUT THIS IS WHERE WE LEAVE WYNKEN BLYNKEN AND NOD, FOR WE ARE VENTURING TO ONE OF THE OTHER POEMS IN THE PLAYLIST: THAT OF;

Little Boy Blue
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
   But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
   And his musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
   And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
   Kissed them and put them there.


Angel

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
   "And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
   He dreamt of the pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
   Awakened our Little Boy Blue---
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
   But the little toy friends are true!

The little toy soldier

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
   Each in the same old place---
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
   The smile of a little face;

And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
   In the dust of that little chair,

What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
   Since he kissed them and put them there.


PULL-UP ALLEY WITH DIDDILY DEE DOT'S DREAM-LAND

 Someone Came KnockingLittle door

Someone came knocking
At my wee, small door;
Someone came knocking
I’m sure-sure-sure;
I listened, I opened,
I looked to left and right,
But nought there was a-stirring
In the still dark night;

Only the busy beetle
Tap-tapping in the wall,
Only from the forest
The screech-owl’s call,
Only the cricket whistling
While the dewdrops fall,
So I know not who came knocking,
At all, at all, at all.

By Walter de la Mare

WHY DON'T YOU PRINT OUT THIS LOVELY OWL MASK FROM MR. WOO.
YOU CAN FIND MORE MASKS AND THINGS TO MAKE AT AnimalJr.com




Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!

Pretty as a Flower POLLY'S  PULL-UP ALLEYPretty as a Flower
diddilydeedotsdreamland .
I found that this playlist was on here, as well, so I shall keep it here for you.
I am not going to look specially through my books for there are much to many and I could be here till after Christmas.                  




THE MAN IN THE MOON

by Edith E Millard 1832 - 1891
    

The Man in the Moon is a friend of mine,

He comes when the stars begin to shine:
I fancy he lights them, one by one,

And never rests till his work is done.

Sometimes I do not see him at all,
And I think, most likely, he has to call
And shout for the stars that would rather try

To play hide and seek in the big blue skies.

The other night, to my great surprise,
The Man in the Moon had tears in his eyes;
He looked so sad and his mouth drooped down,
And he gave me the most tremendous frown!

"Poor Man in the Moon, I am sorry!" I said,
"Have you lost some stars?" but he shook his head;
He could not tell me what was amiss,
So I waved my hand and threw him a kiss.

For more than a week there was rain or snow,
And the wind was very angry- I heard it blow;
But the Man in the Moon I could not see,
The dark clouds hid him away from me.
Smiling cos he caught my kiss
Last night he peeped through the window pane,
I declare I hardly knew him again!
I tried to sketch him for Nurse to see,
A jollier face there never could be.

His eyes were smiling at me like this,
And all because I threw him a kiss!

 written by the lovely Edith Millard more than a 100 years ago

Polly's Pull up Alley
Introduces you to Ivor the Engine


           These are the stories of IVOR THE ENGINE. Yes children he really did exist.
He lived not far away from Seligor when she was a little girl, and I also know that my three brothers and sister were great fans of this little ENGINE CALLED IVOR. Of course, in Welsh the name Ivor is written as Ifor, which is pronounced Evor, all very strange. But then so is my Seligor.
I do hope you enjoy these little stories. You might know of Oliver Postgate, it was him who wrote the book's as well as many other cartoon characters that you see around today. I know I have an idea
.


OLIVER POSTGATE left this world a few months back, he thought it was time they had some new stories and films in the houses of Heaven. I am sure he would be really pleased for us to dedicate this video show to him and say a big thankyou for all the pleasure he has given us. xxx THANKYOU OLIVER xxx


 

Over the Easter weekend, we were pleased to be able Ivor the Engineto host the UK's first official apprearance of Ivor the Engine. Ivor is a specially overhauled locomotive, that has been re-built to represent the favourite childrens character. Unfortunately, Ivor was not able to steam over the weekend. The good news is that Ivor is due to return to us in July, when he will hopefully be able to pull trains.


Here is a lovely playlist for you to sing along with till I get it finished again.


RHINO, EVERYBODY KNOWS , GOT .... WHAT HAS HE GOT?
CAN ANYBODY TELL ME?



Diddilydeedotsdreamland


THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIGPiggy

An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a crooked sixpence.
"What," she said, "shall I do with this little sixpence?
I know I shall go to the market and buy a little pig."
As she was coming home she came to a stile.
The piggy would not go over the stile.
She went a little farther, and she met a dog, so she said to the dog:Labradour Dog

"Dog, dog, bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the dog would not.
She went a little farther, and she met a stick. So she said.

"Stick, stick, beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
stickBut the stick would not.

She went a little farther, and she met a fire. So she said.
"Fire, fire, burn stick;fire
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the fire would not.

She went a little farther, and she met some water. So she said:
"Water, water, quench fire;water
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But water would not.

She went a little farther, and she met an ox. So she said:
"Ox, ox, drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dot;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the ox would not.

She went a little farther, and she met a butcher. So she said:
"Butcher, butcher, kill ox;
butcherOx won't drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dot;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the butcher would not.

She went a little farther, and she met a rope. So she said:
Rope, rope" hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox.
RopeOx won't drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dot;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the rope would not.

She went a little farther, and she met a rat. So she said:
Rat, rat gnaw rope;RAT!
Rope,won't hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox.
Ox won't drink water;
fire
Water won't quench fire;

Fire won't burn stick;

Stick won't beat dot;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the rat would not.

She went a little farther, and she met a cat. So she said:
Cat, cat, kill rat
Rat, won't gnaw rope;

Rope,won't hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox.
Ox won't drink water;

Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dot;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the cat said to her,
"If you will go to yonder cow,
and fetch me a saucer of milk,
I will kill the rat."

So away went the old woman to the cow and she said:Cow
Cow, cow, give me a saucer of milk;
Cat won't kill rat;
Rat, won't gnaw rope;

Rope,won't hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox.
Ox won't drink water;

Water won't quench fire;
fire
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dot;
Dog won't bite pig;
Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!"
But the cow said to her,
"If you will go to yonder haymakers,
and fetch me a wisp of hay,
I'll give you the milk."

So away went the old woman to the haymakers, and said:
"Haymaker, give me a wisp of hay;
Cow won't give milk;
Cat won't kill rat;
Rat won't gnaw rope;
Rope won't hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox;
Ox won't drink water;
Water won't drench fire;
fireFire won't burn stick;
stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;

Piggy won't get over the stile,
And I shan't get home tonight!
But the haymaker said to her,
"If you will go to yonder stream,
and fetch us a bucket of water,
 we'll give you the hay."

So away the old woman went but when she got to the stream she found the bucket was full of holes.
So she covered the bottom of the bucket with pebbles and then filled the bucket with water, and she went back with it to the haymakers, and they gave her a wisp of hay.
As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk; and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat.

piggy ges home crying cos the dog bit himAs soon as the cat had lapped up the milk:
The cat began to kill the rat;
The rat began to gnaw the rope;
The rope began to hang the butcher;
The butcher began to kill the ox;
The ox began to drink the water;
The water began to quench the fire;
The fire began to burn the stick;
fire
The stick began to beat the dog;
The dog began to bite the pig;
The little pig in a fright jumped over the stile;

"So the old lady did get home that night!"

"Phew and if that wasn't one of the longest rymes I have ever wrote out, or read... I will eat my hat.  I am going to have to make a cup of tea now to recouperate."
The King and the Blind Girl.
fountain with roses
By a fountain in a garden there's a throne without a king
and although roses scent the air there are no birds to sing
for all the birds have flown away to search for hidden treasure.

A blind girl wanders on the lawn, barefoot for her pleasure;
she feels the daisies with her toes, the buttercups and marigolds,
she hears the crystal fountains sing - ancient hymns and madrigals.

But silver tears softly fall from her curtained eyes
and 'neath her crown of golden curls her lips release soft sighs.
"The birds, the birds,"
she speaks aloud,  "the birds have stolen the King
- the flowers mute, the roses deaf, the fountain only, sings..."

Against the empty throne she leans, pensive, full of woe
til o'er her wilting head, unseen, there arcs a pale rainbow
debouching strands of entwined colour that fall before her feet,

streaming down the rainbow's length, scores of birds that chirp and tweet,
Swan in the evening dusk
their feathers all of tinted hues their beaks all full of glitter
and from their throats  spring forth true songs full of fairie glamour!


In a cloud of coloured wings, crimson, gold and silver, emerald
and tourmaline and frosted mint of aquamarine
they lift the gold-haired maid aloft and fly towards the river.

There, upon a swan-winged boat the king lays strangely sleeping
and on the mossy, bullrushed banks small animals are weeping.
The blind girl touched his care-lined face, she touched his bearded lips,
she lay her body next to his and gently kissed his fingertips.

Then seven ra
And bore it through the evening skiesinbow-coloured swans swam before the King's death-boat
and bore it through the evening skies - but to what cosmic bourne they swam, none can claim to be that wise!

Perhaps the birds might have a clue but they have also vanished.
Where poetry and magic meet bare truth must sometimes languish.

By a fountain in a garden there's a throne without a king
and although roses scent the air there are no birds to sing
for all the birds have flown away to search for hidden treasure.
Of Mystery there is no end, it has no root or measure.





 


THE BABES IN THE WOOD


The BABES IN THE WOOD.

Now ponder well, you parents deare,
These wordes which I shall write;
A doleful story you shall heare,
In time brought forth to light.
A gentleman of good account
In Norfolke dwelt of late.
Who did in honour far surmount
Most men of his estate.
Sore sicke he was, and like to dye,
No helpe his life could save;
His wife by him as sicke did lye,
And both possest one grave.

No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kinde;
In love they liv’d, in love they dyed,
And left two babes behinde:
The one a fine and pretty boy,
Not passing three yeares olde;
The other a girl more young than he
And fram’d in beautye’s molde.
The father left his little son,
As plainlye doth appeare,
When he to perfect age should come
Three hundred poundes a yeare.

And to his little daughter Jane
Five hundred poundes in gold,
To be paid downe on marriage-day,
Which might not be controll’d:

But if the children chanced to dye,
Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possesse their wealth;
For so the wille did run.
 
“Now, brother,” said the dying man,
“Look to my children deare;
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friendes else have they here:

“To God and you I do commend
My children deare this daye;
But little while be sure we have
Within this world to staye.

“You must be father and mother both,
And uncle all in one;
God knowes what will become of them,
When I am dead and gone.”
With that bespake their mother deare:
“O brother kinde,” quoth shee,
You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or miserie:

“And if you keep them carefully,
Then God will you reward;
But if you otherwise should deal,
God will your deedes regard.”


With lippes as cold as any stone.

They kist the children small:
‘God bless you both, my children deare;’
With that the teares did fall.


These speeches then their brother spake
To this sicke couple there:
“The keeping of your little ones,
Sweet sister, do not feare:
“God never prosper me nor mine,
Nor aught else that I have,
If I do wrong your children deare,
When you are layd in grave.”
 
The parents being dead and gone,
The children home he takes,
And bringes them straite unto his house,
Where much of them he makes.

He had not kept these pretty babes
A twelvemonth and a daye,
But, for their wealth, he did devise
To make them both awaye.
He bargain’d with two ruffians strong,


Which were of furious mood,
That they should take the children young,
And slaye them in a wood.
He told his wife an artful tale,
He would the children send
To be brought up in faire London,
With one that was his friend.
Away then went those pretty babes,

Rejoycing at that tide,
Rejoycing with a merry minde,
They should on cock-horse ride.
 
They prate and prattle pleasantly
As they rode on the waye,
To those that should their butchers be,
And work their lives’ decaye:
So that the pretty speeche they had,
Made murderers’ heart relent:
And they that undertooke the deed,
Full sore did now repent.



Yet one of them, more hard of heart,
Did vow to do his charge,
Because the wretch, that hired him,
Had paid him very large.

The other would not agree thereto,
So here they fell to strife;
With one another they did fight,
About the children’s life:

And he that was of mildest mood,
Did slaye the other there,
Within an unfrequented wood,
Where babes did quake for feare!
 
He took the children by the hand,
While teares stood in their eye,
And bade them come and go with him,



And look they did not crye:
And two long miles he ledd them on,
While they for food complaine:
“Stay here,” quoth he, “I’ll bring ye bread,

When I come back againe.”

These prettye babes, with hand in hand,
Went wandering up and downe;
But never more they saw the man
Approaching from the town.

Their prettye lippes with blackberries
Were all besmear’d and dyed;
And when they sawe the darksome night,
They sat them downe and cryed.



Thus wandered these
two prettye babes,
Till death did end their grief;
In one another’s armes they dyed,
As babes wanting relief.
No burial these prettye babes
Of any man receives,
Till Robin-redbreast painfully
Did cover them with leaves.

Not quite the happy ending that is written in the fairy tales, but this story has been told in many languages and some of the write ups say that it was based on a true story. Poor little babes, I think that the bad Uncle was punished for his wicked ways.

 



site  zoomshare