NEWS OF THE FOURTH COMPETITION

- The Editor has offered a prize of for a new Nursery Rhyme. -The award will be announced in next week's SPECTATOR.

THE children of England arc fortunate in their relatives : or. .so it seems. The number of excellent rhymes submitted for this competition has been very large. Not all of them can be called Nursery Rhymes—but we shall say more of that later ; at any rate they were of a kind to be well received by.children. Only a few competitors failed by all standards and wrote poems that a child could not comprehend nor a grown-up tolerate. Probably most English people retain something of a childlike nature to the day of their death. In France even schoolboys and schoolgirls are sober and responsible persons ; they show continually what a strain it is to live in this matter-of-fact and orderly universe. At the age .of twelve a German indulges in his first thoughts of suicide : a Russian is already vacillating between the highest heaven and the profoundest hell. But how does it happen that hard-headed, mercantile, perfidious Albion bears the supremacy in fantasy, in lyrical poetry, and in nonsense ? Here we have the most materialist and slow-coach philosophers, the most single-minded business men (we are told), the most silent husbands; and the most prosaic food : why are we given to the strangest -freaks of imagination ? " They're mad ! " say our worldly-wise neighbours. Well, so be it : but we make the best companions for children.

Now to be more severe. In spite of our warnings, many competitors wrote poems after the manner of Edward Lear or -Lewis Carroll : we thank them for the entertainment they- gave us and ask them to keep their entries safe for future competitions. From the number 'of moral tales and half-moral tales and absurd-moral tales we received it is plain- that readers of the Spectator would enjoy trying their hands in a competition confined to such fables. The political allegories have not been very successful : too many of them dealt unashamedly and explicitly with the Income Tax, a- hard subject for vivid personification. When we stated that " fabulous animals, or domestic animals in fabulous circumstances," were welcome, we had in mind the " genuine" fabulous .animals of the old rhymes or folk-tales, and certain familiar cows, cats, and dapple greys. Still, there were good animals invented, among them "Madoline's" Infra-dig and fiumpty-Gee and Miss Edith Scott's Wagwump : and we Were pleased with Mr. A. E. Farmiloe's Towel Horse :- It never bolts nor tumbles down, It never chews the dressing-gown.

. But to define a Nursery Rhyme must be beyond any man's Power ; and after the sternest eclecticism a great latitude remains. On the whole we can exclude all poems which are written in baby language, are facetious, contain Latin adjectives, cover two sheets of foolscap, are composed in narrative or elegiac rhythms, or mention golliwogs, dolls, and teddy-bears. Good Nursery Rhymes can be enjoyed by grown-ups without, that embarrassment which comes when we arc asked to sing, " We are but little children weak." Miss M. M. Clutten sends a poem which she guarantees to have been composed by a five-year-old, and it is much nearer to the right thing than ninny poems addressed to children :—

" Once from au airship somebody fell into a river," said one with a hell,

" Into a river, and out again, so Will you come too ? " Said the other man, " No !"

But the variety of kinds that may still be allowed shows plainly enough in the selection we give this week. One or two poems among them have beets submitted hors coneours.

11";lo is the worst boy from Berwiek to Dover The fourth of the family, little Torn Glover.

Hiding in the hayloft. Shouting in the entry.

Mixing peas with the butter and cheese In anybody's pantry.

Then hiss at him, all you geese, And bark at him, Rover ; He covers his head when he lies in bed, And he knocks thc'milk-jug over.

ISABEL :MOFFAT.

Tommy hasn't got a hat on :

What d'you think's the cause of that Tommy's great-grandmother sat on Tommy's only summer hat.

Tommy's gone and lost the money Mother gave him for the 'bus.

Tommy thinks it's rather funny.

Isn't Tom ridiculous ?

Bans DA N WILLIAMS.

The Sun and the Moon stood still and stared When John jumped over the Golden Sea.

But the world kept turning and no one eared

When Johnny jumped back to marry me.

LLIAM LORD.

In my garden, all in a row, An apple and a pear, and a plum did grow. As I was gardening one fine day, The King and his court they rode this way. Into my garden they did come, The King ate the apple, the Queen ate the plum, -

The Prince and the-Courtiers fought for the pear--

So the pips and the stone were all my share.

JOCELYN C. LEA.

Vain Jane Stood in the rain Till all of her ran together ; For there isn't any hope For a girl made of soap And it pays to be three-parts leather. L. 1'. WALTON.

Peter the fisherman sits in the boat In his hest black hat and his best black coat, But he needs no line nor rod nor float. Ho lands his fish with a clever pat, And he eats it up on the nearest mat,-- Peter, my own dear Pussy Cat Round-faced-Jim was very very fat, Round-faced-Jim wouldn't wear a but ; You should have seen his crop of hair ; You should have seen the neighbours stare !

K. E. HOLLAND.

tip on the highest hill of all Beside the China Sea,

There grows a tree, a tree so tan, The oldest apple tree.

The highest branch of the highest tree Touches the evening star, And low the deepest root may ho Which grows where devils are.

The apple leaves are bitter green. The hark is black as night, But 0 the apples that are seen, As gold as morning light !

Old Billy Barton's ginger cat Smears his whiskers with mutton fat.

I had a shot at him, sitting on the wall : He stood up and spat at me and—wasn't be tall ! E. a TomucT.

I met an old woman a weeping, a-weeping, All in a hayfield upon a summer's day. In and out among the cocks as she went a-erceping She lifted a torn petticoat and thus to me did say : "I've torn my best petticoat., my petticoat, blue petticoat ; Unless-I can mend it, I can't get home to-day.

So I'm looking for a needle, a needle, a needle,

I'm looking for a needle in a bundle of hay." 0. 0. W.

P. WAsusuriN.

RIDDLE-XE-REL