This is the Hut that Jack Built

[Stephen Whiteside]

I just stumbled onto this poem on the web-site of the State Library of Victoria. It is from a 'toy book' (predecessor of the modern day picture book). It was written and engraved by two brothers, Samuel and William Calvert, and published in 1871. I don't have the full text yet, but it starts like this:

This is the Hut that Jack Built.


This is the hut that Jack built.

This is the table so clean and neat,
With its well scoured top and four white feet,
That stood in the hut that Jack built.

This is the milk so sweet and white,
Within the pan so broad and bright,
That was left on the table clean and neat,
With its well scoured top and four white feet,
That stood in the hut that Jack built.

This is the snake, with sinuous track,
And poisonous fangs and glittering back,
Who drank the milk so sweet and white,
Within the pan so broad and bright,
That was left on the table clean and neat,
With its well scoured top and four white feet,
That stood in the hut that Jack built.

(might be missing some pages here)

And this is the Laughing Jackass bold,
Who is famous for killing snakes, I'm told,
So, flying down, and laughing loud,
He carried the snake up near a cloud,
With his poisonous fangs and glittering back,
And hissing tongue and sinuous track,
Who drank the milk so sweet and white,
Within the pan so broad and bright,
That was left on the table clean and neat,
With its well scoured top and four white feet,
That stood in the hut that Jack built.

And this is the hawk, with talons red,
That took it into its wicked head,
To seize the Laughing Jackass loud,
As he carried the snake up near a cloud,
With his poisonous fangs and glittering back,
And hissing tongue and sinuous track,
Who drank the milk so sweet and white,
Within the pan so broad and bright,
That was left on the table clean and neat,
With its well scoured top and four white feet,
That stood in the hut that Jack built.


That's all I can find for the moment. Not bad for 1871!

[Stephen Whiteside]

Very interesting, Marty. I reckon it stands up pretty well today, though the line about the evil hawk wouldn't pass muster any more. Still, you still need heroes and villains, even if you have to make them up. I suppose you can argue that the enemy (the Laughing Jackass) of my enemy (the snake) is my friend, and therefore my enemy's enemy's enemy (the hawk) is my enemy...and is therefore wicked. Got all that?

[Peely]

G'day Stephen

I was curious and did a little digging on this one myself. You can look at the book in full on the Culture Victoria website. This is the link here:

http://www.cv.vic.gov.au/stories/an-aus ... ustralia./

If you click on the thumbnails beneath the picture of the cover, you can read the text as well as look at the illustrations that accompanied the text. The poem is quite a bit longer than the text that you have here. I'll see if I can dig up the rest of the text without having to type it out.

Regards


John Peel

[Stephen Whiteside]

Thanks for this, John. Interesting to see the one-sided printing.

[Peely]

The Young Australian's Alphabet?

No, I know the one you mean and would agree with you on that.

[Stephen Whiteside]

This appears to be the original European version of the poem that the Calverts based their Australian poem on.

"This is the house that Jack built..."
by Mother Goose

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

[Heather]

Thanks Stephen, I knew it was familiar and the original is the reason.

Heather