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Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere
Molly Melody


Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland
MOLLY MELODY




Little Songs 4 Little People




Brings to you a simple little song from 1773 all about a Guinea-Pig

Several Guinea-PigsA Guinea-Pig Song

There was a little guinea-pig,
Who, being little, was not big;
He always walked upon his feet,
And never fasted when he eat.

When from a place he run away,
He never at the place did stay;
And while he run, as I am told,
He ne'er stood still for young or old.


He often squeaked, sometimes was violent,
And when he squeaked he ne'er was silent
Though never instructed by a cat,
He knew a mouse was not a rat.

One day, as I am certified,
He took a whim and fairly died;
And as I'm told by men of sense,
He never has been living since.

No author I'm afraid but I think whomever it was had a wonderful sense of humour.
Diddily Dee Dot xxx.





Oh dear what can the matter be MOLLY MELODY
Brings you
A few little tunes to keep you warm.




Oh Dear What Can The Matter Be

Oh Dear what can the matter be?
Dear, Oh dear what can the matter be?
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Johnnie’s so long at the fair.

He promised he'd buy me a fairing should please me,
And then for a kiss, oh! He vowed he would tease me,
He promised he'd bring me a bunch of blue ribbons
To tie up my bonny brown hair.

Posie of LiliesOh dear what can the matter be?
Dear, Oh dear what can the matter be?
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.

He promised to buy me a pair of sleeve buttons,
A pair of new garters that cost him but two pence,
He promised he'd bring me a bunch of blue ribbons
To tie up my bonny brown hair.

Oh dear what can the matter be?
Dear, Oh dear what can the matter be?
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.

He promised to bring me a basket of posies,
GARLAND OF ROSES
A garland of lilies, a garland of roses,
A little straw hat to set off the blue ribbons
That tie up my bonnie brown hair.

Oh dear what can the matter be?
Dear, Oh dear what can the matter be?
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.

Oh dear what can the matter be?
Dear, Oh dear what can the matter be?
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.

DIDDILYDEEDOT'S DREAMLAND
HURDY-GURDY MAN


HURDY-GURDY MAN


In Mildenhall is a hurdy-gurdy,
Played by a gypsy brown and sturdy -
Rum-ti-tiddle-y-um-ti-dum!
Out of the houses the children come,
Out of the gardens and out of shops,
Twirling, whirling, loke coloured tops.
Under the blackened oaken rafter
Old ears cock at the sound of laughter.
Old eyes peer at thegreen-glass panes
And follow the roving children-chains -

Rum-ti-tiddle-y-um-ti-dee!
Coaxes the music, dance with me!
Every foot in the street is tapping,
 Every hand in the place is clapping,
And Mildenhall is alive and gay
With melodies hurdy-gurdies play.
At last the rollicking jingle ceases
And out come penny and silver pieces,
And the gipsy flashes his widest smile
And trudges on for another mile....

Although the area has been inhabited since neolithic times, Mildenhall is probably better known today as being the location of RAF Mildenhall, one of the United States Air Force's major bases in the UK, and the Mildenhall Air Show, the largest military organised air display in the world.
Certainly, as you wander around the town, you cannot help but notice the accents of our American cousins, and the occasional low flying aircraft.
                                                              Mildenhall

DIDDILYDEEDOT'S DREAMLAND
With a few little tunes to keep you warm.

flowers


Girls and Boys Come Out to Play




 Girls and boys come out to play,
The moon doth shine as bright as day;
Come with a whoop and come with a call,
And come with a good will or not at all!

Leave your supper and leave your sleep,
And come to your playfellows in the street;
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A penny loaf will serve you all.


Boys and GIrls
Boys and GIrls

Boys and GIrls


flowers




Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere
Molly Melody
Glittering Notes for Molly
MOLLY MELODY
HAS SOME NEW TUNES FOR YOU
FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD

 
More Music

SO watch and listen with MOLLY
Watch ALONG I SAY
YES Watch ALONG WITH MOLLY
More Music
FOR right now is watching DAY.

 

Add to GoogleMolly is a Minstrel Lass
M
olly  Melody
can create lots of fun from long songs,
to
small stories, for every one.

Share
THE KETTLE ON THE HOB


They may talk as they will about singing
Their harps and their lutes and what not,
Their fiddles are not worth the stringing
Compared to the music I've got ;

It sings every morning to cheer me.
My pockets it never can rob,
I'm happy each morn when it's near me,
'Tis my kettle that sings on the hob.

At eve, when from labour returning,
I list to its musical throb;
Worth all your fal-lals and fine learning,
'Is — my kettle that sings on the hob.

With home-faces smiling around me,
And children and wife at the board.
No music such joy ever found me
As that its sweet song doth afford.

I love every inch of its metal,
From the tip of the spout to the knob,
"Lead a temperate life," sings the kettle.
The kettle that sings on the hob.

Sometimes an old friend shares my table.
Though never on dainties I dine.
I treat him as well as I'm able,
Tho' I boast of no cellar of wine.

'Tis friendship gives zest to the liquor,
Tho' we but in tea hob-a-nob.
And to make it the hotter and quicker
There's the kettle that sings on the hob.

Yet with lessons far deeper and higher,
The song of the kettle may teem;
'Twas the kettle that sung on the fire
That first proved the power of steam.
 
What great things from small may be spinging
Is proved by the engine's deep sob,
And yet, after all, the beginning
Was the kettle that sings on the hob.
 
And so, to the kettle returning,
I list to its musical throb,
And find there's a lesson worth learning
In my kettle that sings on tiie hob.

Kettle on the Hobby J E Carpenter.


Not a lot seems to have been written about the man J. E. Carpenter, but his full name was Joseph Edward Carpenter and he wrote wonderful poetry.
The Romance of the Dreamer is one of his books, and there is an message on the inside dated 1st September 1841, I have the above poem in an old book which was reprinted in 1873, but I can't find any pictures of him.


 
 
MOLLY AND HER MUSIC AND WORDS


I WISH - I WISH - I WISH              
I wish that I could fly as high as a kite,
as it travels to the sky.

I wish that I could walk on the moon,
stay there till the afternoon.

I wish that I could stand so tall,
and reach for the sun for my ball.

 I wish I could dance on my toes,
a ballerina, sweet repose.
 I wish I could sing like a bird,
loud then soft, but always heard.
 I wish I could write rhymes like Dodie,
some for Jane, some for Jody.


I wish the world would ring with love,
happiness and turtle doves.
I wish that life was so easy that,
we have no more pain, and no more fuss.
I wish so much that life goes bye,
with no more tears, and no more cries.

Dodies©2009

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WHEN ALL THE WORLD WAS YOUNG,LAD

When all the world is young, lad

And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down:
Creep home and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.

This poem about life young and old, whas written by Charles Kingsley. He was the gentleman who wrote the story of the water babies. I thin I am going to see if I can find a small film of The Water Babies and put it on here. For it is one of those fairy tales that very rarely gets any play on the television and yet it is a very, very beautiful story.

 



This presentation comes from Molly Melody on page 19
in Diddilydeedot's Dreamland 

 
M
olly Melody
can create lots of fun
from long songs, to small stories, for every one.



LUCKY DUCKLINGS

Ten little ducklings out in the rain -

How they love the puddles wet, down our muddy lane !

I would like to join their fun, but I'm kept indoors.

It must be nice to be a duck when it pours and pours.

Jacqueline Clayton




Add to GoogleMolly is a Minstrel Lass

Molly  Melody

can create lots of fun
from long songs, to small stories, for every one.

 
A minstrel was a medieval European bard who performed songs whose lyrics told stories
about distant places or about (real or imaginary) historical events . Though minstrels minstrels were eventually replaced at court by the troubadours, and many became wandering minstrels, performing in the streets and became well liked until the middle of the Renaissance, despite a decline beginning in the late 15th century. Minstrels fed into later traditions of traveling entertainers, which continued to be moderately strong into the early 20th century, and which has some continuity down to today's buskers or created their own tales, often they would memorize and embellish the works of others. Frequently they were retained by royalty and high society. As the courts became more sophisticated,street musicians.



AbbeyThis Old Man '); // -->

This old man, he played      one; 1
He played knick-knack on my thumb.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
                          This old man came rolling home
.



Abbey and PennyThis old man, he played      two; 2
He played knick-knack on my shoe.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.


                   This old man, he played
    three; 3

Abbey, Kelly and PennyHe played knick-knack on my knee.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.


Dogs for Christmas foreverThis old man, he played     four; 4
He played knick-knack on my door.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.


5 babies in a rowThis old man, he played     five; 5
He played knick-knack on my hive.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.


Pick up SticksThis old man, he played     six; 6
He played knick-knack on my sticks.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.



little Angellittle Angel    This old man, he played      seven; little Angel7
little Angel
little AngelHe played knick-knack up in heaven.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
little Angellittle AngelGive a dog a bone;
 This old man came rolling home.


Dot at the GateThis old man, he played     eight; 8
He played knick-knack on my gate.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.


This old man, he played     nine; 9
played knick knack on my spine
He played knick-knack on my spine.
With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
                 This old man came rolling home.


This old man, he played     ten; 10
He played knick-knack once again.
Molly the MinstrelWith a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;
This old man came rolling home.

Midi: This old man

 

 I have decided that our first  musical beginning for Ireland is Michael Finnigan. thanks to everyone whom I collected music off.

There was a man called Michael FinniganMichael Finnigan

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan,
He grew whiskers on his chinigin.
The wind blew up and blew them in agin,
Poor old Michael Finnigan – Begin agen:


There was an old man called Michael Finnigan,
He kicked up an awful dinigin,
Because they said he must not singagin
Poor old Michael Finnigan, Begin agen:

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan,
He went fishing with a pinagin,
Caught a fish but dropped it inagin,
Poor old Michael Finnigan, Begin agen:

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan,
Climbed a tree and barked his shinnigan,
Tore off yards and yards of skinnigan,
Poor old Michael Finnigan, Begin agen:

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan,
He grew fat and he grew thinagin,
Then he died and had to be bornagen,
Poor old Michael Finnigan


The Concert Party
Melody

The Concert Party

       Poor little Peter had been invited to a picnic. He had all his best clothes on, and was very excited at the thought of all that lovely food and fun; and then, after all the trouble of dressing, and all Nurse's scolding because he wouldn't stand still, the rain ame pouring down and poor Peter couldn't go to his picnic at all.

The worst of it was that he was sick and tired of his toys; he hadn't a single one that he felt at least interest in - and ask for his books, well, they were all right, but who can sit down quietly and read a book when the unkind rain has spoilt a picnic? Not Peter anyhow. He didn't even want his toys
He stamped round the nursery in a rage, and it was a very good thing Nurse wasn't there, or there would have been trouble. At last, when he was tired of stamping, he threw himself down at full length on the window seat and lay watching the rain, coming down like long steel rods straight from the grey Chang-pu needs to get to the concertclouds.
          
All of a sudden he heard a voice at his elbow, a funny little voice that sounded a bit like two bits of stick being grated together.
      "I should like to know how we're a-goin' to get to this 'ere concert," it remarked. "Here's me and Jessie and Dutch - the three of us - and not a taxi to be seen."
      Peter started up and saw it was his Chinese doll "Chang-pu" that was speaking. Chang-pu, by the way, had associated with very common dolls before he entered Peter's family.
Peter with his toy train
      "Well, you'll have to give the concert up," said Peter. "I've had to give my picnic up.  It's a jolly nuisance, but one must grin and bear it."
      "Grin and bear it indeed!" retorted Chang-pu, "is that what you call stamping round the room and kicking your toys about?  In any case it's a long sight worse for us. Me and my mates are giving the concert, and if we're not there, well, there won't be no concert, that's all."
     
Jessie wore her colourful frock  Peter thought for a little while, then he said, "How far is it?"
 
     "Oh, a goodish step," replied Chang-pu. "The concert is to take place on the small table yonder, over agin by the harmchair."
      "If you like I'll take you there in my train," said Peter.

      "Oh, that would be just sweet of you," exclaimed Jessie, a nice little black faced dolly in a very colourful  frock.
      "We should love it!" cried Dutch, who was also standing by. "You see I play the piano, so they can't have any singing unless I'm there."

      Peter jumped down from the window seat to get his train.
It was right at the bottom of the toy cupboard, tangled up with all sorts of things, and he
Dutch all dressed for the concert broke a horse and cart and the sails of a toy windmill in dragging it out.
      "I'm afraid it's too small for all of us," said Dutch. "You see we've got our best frocks on and they mustn't be crushed. Haven't you a larger conveyance?"
       "Well I can hitch my motor wagon on behind," said Peter. "There will be
plenty of room then."
      "Right oh!" replied Chang-pu.
      "That will do a treat, but look sharp, there's a good chap. Every moment is precious."
       Peter did look sharp, and when he wheeled up the wagon and coupled it to the engine, the dolls seemed quite satisfied.
Peter's Motor Wagon Chang-pu got inside the wagon, while Jessie sat astride the bonnet, and Dutch had quite a comfortable seat on the engine, where she could spread her long legs out in front and not crush her frills at all.
Peter took his place at the back of the wagon, and, making puffing noises with his mouth, got them all along in fine style, so that they
sang about three blind mice reached the concert with two minutes to spare.
      The principle singer was a funny faced old gentleman with a small cap on the side of his head, and he sang "Three Blind Mice" with so much feeling that large tears ran down Chang-pu's face. Peter obliged with three lines of "A Frog he would a wooing go," all he could remember, and Chang-pu sold the programmes. They were so tired after the concertThe whole concert was a brilliant success, and when the time came to go home they invited several friends to go too,one of their friends in her bestest frock because they didn't mind crushing their frocks now the concert was over.
So Peter unhitched the engine and took them all home in the motor wagon.
He had just arrived safely with his load at the nursery
 
cuPeter enjoyed his Picnicpboard when Nurse opened the door and said :-
      "It
's left off raining now, Master Peter, and so you
can start to the picnic
after all." Peter looked at her
in surprise, for he had r
eally been enjoying
himself so much, he had forgotten about the
picnic altogether.




This short story was written by a lady called Jessie Pope quite some years ago. I checked up in Wikipeadia and found this information it is very interesting. However I did find three different writings by her that I couldn't trace. One was this story, the second a poem called "The Lost Lunch." also with a train in it and the third is another rhyme called "The Christmas Porter." both these last two rhymes are in "Pots, Trains and planes"



Jessie Pope

Jessie Pope (1868 - 1941) was an English poet, writer and journalist best known for her patriotic World War I. motivational poems published during the war.

Born in Leicester, she was educated at Craven House, Leicester, and North London Collegiate School. She was a regular contributor to Punch, The Daily Mail and The Daily Express, also writing for Vanity Fair, Pall Mall Magazine and the Windsor.

 

Molly Melody

There's a Hole in the Bucket

  Midi: There's a Hole in the Bucket


There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza;
There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole.

Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it.


With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, with what?


With a straw , dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
With a straw , dear Henry, dear Henry, a straw.

But the straw is too long, dear Liza, dear Liza;
But the straw is too long, dear Liza, too long.


Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, cut it.


With what shall I cut it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I cut it, dear Liza, with what?

With an axe, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
With an axe , dear Henry, dear Henry, an axe.

The axe is too dull, dear Liza, dear Liza;
The axe is too dull, dear Liza, too dull.

Harry Belefonte
Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, sharpen it.

With what shall I sharpen it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I sharpen it, dear Liza, with what?

With a stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
With a stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, a stone.

The stone is too dry, dear Liza, dear Liza;
The stone is too dry, dear Liza, too dry.

Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, wet it.


With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
 With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, with what?

 With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;

With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, with water.


In what shall I fetch it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
In what shall I fetch it, dear Liza, in what?



In the bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry;
In the bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, in the bucket.


BUT

THERE'S A HOLE IN THE BUCKET........


Peter, Paul and Mary,  sang the hit version, Paul wrote it.Puff the Magic Dragon Puff the Magic Dragon
words by: Lenny Lipton
music by: Peter Yarrow (of Peter, Paul and Mary)

Puff, the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist
In a land called Honah Lee





Little Jackie Paper
Loved that rascal Puff,

And brought him strings and sealing wax
And other fancy stuff. Oh!


Puff, the magic dragon
Lived by the sea

And frolicked in the autumn mist
In a land called Honah Lee


Puff, the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
              And frolicked in the autumn mist

In a land called Honah Lee



               Together they would travel
On a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched
On Puff's gigantic tail

Noble kings and princes
Would bow when e'er they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flag
When Puff roared out his name. Oh!

Puff, the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist
In a land called Honah Lee



A dragon lives forever

But not so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings
Make way for other toys.

One grey night it happened,
Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon,
He ceased his fealess roar.


His head was bent in sorrow,
Green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play
Along the cherry lane.




                  Without his life-long friend,
                        Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon
            Sadly slipped into his cave. Oh
!


(Sing Chorus Softly)


Puff, the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist

In a land called Honah Lee


(Sing Chorus Loudly)


Puff, the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist
In a land called Honah Lee


Lipton

Midi: Puff the Magic Dragon


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.
It's ok it's only a Mouse
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 t
hat lay in the house that Jack built.

It's ok it's only a Mouse

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

It's ok it's only a Mouse

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.


This wonderful collection of Felt pictures I have borrowed from this wonderful website. It truly is quite amazing, with many different varients. The company although in the States, do deliver abroad.

www.shoppalstores.com/genesisarts/

Genesisarts
PO Box 45614
Los Angeles, CA 90045
(310) 698 9845

 
Molly Melody

PRESENT'S


"ALL IN A DAY'S WORK!"


this is the farmer sowing her seedThere we an old man, who lived in a wood,
As you may plainly see.
He said he could do as much work in a day,
As his wife could do in three.
"With all my heart," the old woman said,
"If that you will allow.
Tomorrow you'll stay at home in my stead,
And I'll go drive the plough.
Tidy Cow
"But you must milk the Tidy cow,
For fear that she go dry.

And you must feed the little pigs
That are within the sty.
And you must mind the speckled hen,
For fear she lay away.

She loved the Speckled HenAnd you must reel the spool of yarn,
That I spun yesterday."

The old woman took a staff in her hand,
And went to drive the plough.

The old man took a pail in his hand,
And went to milk the cow.
But Tidy hinched, and Tidy flinched,
And Tidy broke his nose.
Tidy would not keep still
And Tidy gave him such a blow,
That the blood ran down to his toes.

Piglets"Hey! Tidy! ho! Tidy!
Hey! Tidy! do stand still,
If ever I milk you, Tidy, again,
'Twill be against my will!"

He went to feed the little pigs
That were within the sty,
He hit his head against the beam,Speckled Hen
And this made his blood to fly.
He went to mind the speckled hen,
For fear she'd laid astray,
And he forgot the spool of yarn
That his wife spun yesterday.

So he swore by the sun,
and the moon, and the stars,
Smiling SunAnd the green leaves on the tree,
"If my wife doesn't do a day's work in her life,stars and moon with a cloud
She shall ne'er be ruled by me."

keep singing my little ones

Diddily is here to watch Tom and Jerry with you.





ribbon for your hair
Zippidy do da, zippity day,
My, oh my what a wonderful day.
Plenty of Sunshine heading my way,
Zippidy do da, zippidy day.
 

 Princess Vanilla

M olly Melody

          Once upon a time there lived a beautiful princess. Her name was Princess Vanilla. Unfortunately everything the princess touched would melt. No matter what it was; metal,an old wizard wood, stone it didn't matter, everything she touched would melt in her hand. Because of this all the men in the kingdom were afraid of her and nobody would dare ask for her hand in marriage.

Her father, the king despaired, what could he do to help his daughter?
He consulted all the wizards and magicians in the land nothing seemed to work then one day an old wizard told the king, "If your daughter touches one thing that doesn't melt in her hands, she will be cured, you just have to find out what it is."
The king was overjoyed and came up with a plan, he would set a challenge that any man that could bring his daughter an object that would not melt in her hands could marry her and inherit the king's wealth.
Not long after three young princes took up the challenge and the competition began.      The first prince brought a sword of the finest steel, but alas, once the princess touched it, it melted.
The prince went away, sadly the Princess Vanilla was not going to be his bride.


The second prince brought diamonds. He thought diamonds are the hardest substance
in the world and surely they wouldn't melt.
But alas, once the princess touched them, they apeared like ice cubes and melted away to nothing. He too was sent away disappointed.

It was time for the third prince to come forward to meet the princess. He was very handsome and the princess was hoping that whatever he had wouldn't melt away.
He whispered into the princesses ear.
"Put your hand in my pocket and feel what it is that is in there?"
Blushing, the princess frowned but she did as she was told and gently put her hand into the young princes pocket.
Princess Vanilla was so happy
She felt something hard so she caught hold of it and held it in her hand.
"It didn't melt!!!  Daddy it didn't melt!!" she shouted and taking her hand out of the young man's pocket she grabbed him around the neck and kissed him.


They instantly fell in love, the king was overjoyed. Everybody in the kingdom was overjoyed. In fact there was much happiness to be had all over the Kingdom. They were soon married and they both lived happily ever after................


.......................... Oh gosh I've just remembered, did I tell you what it was that the young Prince had in his pocket? ....I didn't then you'd better follow me.

(Scroll down for the answer)


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M & M'S OF COURSE
They melt in your mouth, not your hands



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