Hickory Dickory Dock.

Tick-Tack! tick-tack!     This way, that way, forward, back,     Swings the pendulum to and fro,     Always regular, always slow.     Grave and solemn on the wall,--     Hear it whisper! hear it call!     Little Ginx knows naught of Time,     But has heard the mystic rhyme,--     "Hickory, dickory, dock!     The mouse ran up the clock!"     Tick-tack! tick-tack!     White old face with figures black!     So when dismal, stormy days     Keep him from his out-door plays,     Most that he cares for is to sit     Watching, always watching it.     And when the hour strikes he thinks,--     (A dear, wise head has the little Ginx!)     "The clock strikes one,     The mice ran down!"     Tick-tack! tick-tack!     This way, that way, forward, back!     Though so measured and precise,     Ginx believes it full of mice.     A mouse runs up at every tick,     But when the stroke comes, scampering quick,     Mice run down again; so they go,     Up and down, and to and fro!     Hickory, dickory, dock,     Full of mice is the clock!