Who Killed Cock Robin?

When I was about four, I had a book of Mother Goose rhymes that was the most beautiful book in the world. Its illustrations were, I think, reminiscent of an illuminated manuscript, with intricate drawings with bright, jewel-like colors done in panels in the margins. I'm not entirely sure, because I didn't learn about illuminated manuscripts until a decade later, and by that time the most beautiful book in the world was long gone.

I can only clearly remember the panels on the "Who Killed Cock Robin" page, that being my favorite at the time.

"Who killed Cock Robin?" "I," said the Sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin."

"Who saw him die?" "I," said the Fly,
"With my little eye, I saw him die."

I'm not sure how old I was when I received this particular Mother Goose book. I believe I had others. It was most likely given to me when I was pretty young, because I tore the cover off early on and by the age of four, I already couldn't quite remember what it looked like.

"Who caught his blood?" "I," said the Fish,
"With my little dish, I caught his blood."

"Who'll make the shroud?" "I," said the Beetle,
"With my thread and needle, I'll make the shroud."

I spent hours (okay, minutes—time was different then) trying to remember the cover illustration, because I was quite certain it had been the most beautiful book cover in the world. I even—I think—spontaneously cleaned my room once or twice, trying to find it. This probably gave my parents a completely mistaken impression about my level of conscientiousness and work ethic:

"Who'll dig his grave?" "I," said the Owl,
"With my pick and trowel, I'll dig his grave."

Every now and then, I try to find a copy of the book, although I've not done anything more demanding than Google searches so far.

"Who'll be the parson?" "I," said the Rook,
"With my little book, I'll be the parson."

Nursery rhymes make a very useful source of childhood wonder, mainly because they are utterly incomprehensible to their intended audience. What's a parson? What's a trowel? Why are English people under the impression that lark rhymes with clerk?

"Who'll be the clerk?" "I," said the Lark,
"If it's not in the dark, I'll be the clerk."

It would really, really help if I could remember the cover illustration. Why don't you just do an image search for Cock Robin, since it's the one you remember? you ask.

"Who'll carry the link?" "I," said the Linnet,
"I'll fetch it in a minute, I'll carry the link."

I'll just give you a few seconds to think through the flaws in that strategy.

"Who'll be chief mourner?" "I," said the Dove,
"I mourn for my love, I'll be chief mourner."

Actually, out of sheer stubbornness, I did do a search for Cock Robin. I even—with one eye closed in trepidation—turned off Google Safe Search to do it. Nothing. Not even relevant porn.

"Who'll carry the coffin?" "I," said the Kite,
"If it's not through the night, I'll carry the coffin."

"Who'll bear the pall? "We," said the Wren,
"Both the cock and the hen, we'll bear the pall."

I also tried searching for "Goosey Goosey Gander," because I think I can sort of remember one of those panels—the one where the gander kicks the guy down the stairs. A goose in a frock coat is a fairly memorable image.

"Who'll sing a psalm?" "I," said the Thrush,
As she sat on a bush, "I'll sing a psalm."

I vaguely remember reading "Four and Twenty Blackbirds," mostly because so much of it was impossible to understand, but the pictures have faded from my mind.

"Who'll toll the bell?" "I," said the bull,
"Because I can pull, I'll toll the bell."

Perhaps I had a thing for nursery rhymes that were death- and/or bird-themed. Or maybe it's just a coincidence, since so many nursery rhymes are death- and/or bird-themed. The death I get—people are ghouls—but what's with the birds?

All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,

When they heard the bell toll for poor Cock Robin.