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WATER, WATER, WILD-FLOWERS.
This is a ring game, and creates considerable mirth.
One stands in the middle and the rest go round, singing:
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"Wa -- ter, wa -- ter, wild -- flowers, Grow -- ing up so high, We are all young la -- dies, And we are sure to die; Ex -- cept -- ing An -- nie How -- ard, She is the fair -- est flow -- er: Fie, fie, fie for shame! Turn a -- bout and tell your beau's name."
We will suppose the one in the center of the ring, whom I have called Annie Howard, whispers the name of Frank Davis to the one who leads the singing. Then the circle moves round again, and the children sing:
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