When I was a kidlet, in the late 30s, my aunt Lucille was fond of reciting this one, from HER childhood:
Little Isaac Eisenheimer
Thought he'd be a steeple climber.
Climbed to the top of St. Peter's steeple,
Then fell down and scared some people.
Broke the "-E.R." off his name--
Wasn't that a measly shame?
His father rushed up just in time
To pick up little Isaac Eisenheim!
She would still sometimes recite this at family gatherings, up until her death in her 80s.