From the Health Anthology
Curlilocks, Curlilocks, wilt thou be mine?
A piece of dry toast every morning at nine,
And sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And cut out all butter fats, sugar, and cream.
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man,
Bake me some gluten as fast as you can;
Tuesday I had but a jigger of tea,
And half of an orange for Tommy and me.
Simple Simon met a pieman
On one of the principal streets
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
“I dassen't eat no sweets.”
Sing a song of proteins,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty calories
Boiled in a pie.
When the pie was opened
The birds began to bleat:
“Isn't that a dreadful dish
For any one to eat?”
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
To get her poor self some dinner;
She had butter and lamb and some pastry and ham,
And that's why she didn't get thinner.
Little Tommy Tucker
Yearns for his supper:
What may he eat?
Toast without butter.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run;
“Go on,” said he to his wife, “and fry it.”
“Nope,” said she; “you're on a diet.”
There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise;
He was overweight, and so he took
A lot of exercise.
And when he lost a lot of weight,
With all his might and main
He rushed into a restaurant
And put it on again.
Jack Sprat could eat no fat;
Eat sweets? He was unable.
And people used to say of him
He set a skimpy table.
Mary had a little ham,
Some chicken à la King,
Some eggs supreme, a glass of cream,
And not another thing.
Curlilocks, Curlilocks, wilt thou be mine?
A piece of dry toast every morning at nine,
And sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And cut out all butter fats, sugar, and cream.
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man,
Bake me some gluten as fast as you can;
Tuesday I had but a jigger of tea,
And half of an orange for Tommy and me.
Simple Simon met a pieman
On one of the principal streets
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
“I dassen't eat no sweets.”
Sing a song of proteins,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty calories
Boiled in a pie.
When the pie was opened
The birds began to bleat:
“Isn't that a dreadful dish
For any one to eat?”
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
To get her poor self some dinner;
She had butter and lamb and some pastry and ham,
And that's why she didn't get thinner.
Little Tommy Tucker
Yearns for his supper:
What may he eat?
Toast without butter.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run;
“Go on,” said he to his wife, “and fry it.”
“Nope,” said she; “you're on a diet.”
There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise;
He was overweight, and so he took
A lot of exercise.
And when he lost a lot of weight,
With all his might and main
He rushed into a restaurant
And put it on again.
Jack Sprat could eat no fat;
Eat sweets? He was unable.
And people used to say of him
He set a skimpy table.
Mary had a little ham,
Some chicken à la King,
Some eggs supreme, a glass of cream,
And not another thing.
A piece of dry toast every morning at nine,
And sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And cut out all butter fats, sugar, and cream.
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man,
Bake me some gluten as fast as you can;
Tuesday I had but a jigger of tea,
And half of an orange for Tommy and me.
Simple Simon met a pieman
On one of the principal streets
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
“I dassen't eat no sweets.”
Sing a song of proteins,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty calories
Boiled in a pie.
When the pie was opened
The birds began to bleat:
“Isn't that a dreadful dish
For any one to eat?”
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
To get her poor self some dinner;
She had butter and lamb and some pastry and ham,
And that's why she didn't get thinner.
Little Tommy Tucker
Yearns for his supper:
What may he eat?
Toast without butter.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run;
“Go on,” said he to his wife, “and fry it.”
“Nope,” said she; “you're on a diet.”
There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise;
He was overweight, and so he took
A lot of exercise.
And when he lost a lot of weight,
With all his might and main
He rushed into a restaurant
And put it on again.
Jack Sprat could eat no fat;
Eat sweets? He was unable.
And people used to say of him
He set a skimpy table.
Mary had a little ham,
Some chicken à la King,
Some eggs supreme, a glass of cream,
And not another thing.
Curlilocks, Curlilocks, wilt thou be mine?
A piece of dry toast every morning at nine,
And sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And cut out all butter fats, sugar, and cream.
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man,
Bake me some gluten as fast as you can;
Tuesday I had but a jigger of tea,
And half of an orange for Tommy and me.
Simple Simon met a pieman
On one of the principal streets
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
“I dassen't eat no sweets.”
Sing a song of proteins,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty calories
Boiled in a pie.
When the pie was opened
The birds began to bleat:
“Isn't that a dreadful dish
For any one to eat?”
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
To get her poor self some dinner;
She had butter and lamb and some pastry and ham,
And that's why she didn't get thinner.
Little Tommy Tucker
Yearns for his supper:
What may he eat?
Toast without butter.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
Stole a pig and away he run;
“Go on,” said he to his wife, “and fry it.”
“Nope,” said she; “you're on a diet.”
There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise;
He was overweight, and so he took
A lot of exercise.
And when he lost a lot of weight,
With all his might and main
He rushed into a restaurant
And put it on again.
Jack Sprat could eat no fat;
Eat sweets? He was unable.
And people used to say of him
He set a skimpy table.
Mary had a little ham,
Some chicken à la King,
Some eggs supreme, a glass of cream,
And not another thing.
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