Group Title: Struwwelpeter.
Title: Slovenly Peter, or, Cheerful stories and funny pictures for good little folks
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 Material Information
Title: Slovenly Peter, or, Cheerful stories and funny pictures for good little folks
Uniform Title: Struwwelpeter
Alternate Title: Cheerful stories and funny pictures for good little folks
Physical Description: 96 p. : col. ill. ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hoffmann, Heinrich, 1809-1894
John C. Winston Company
Publisher: The John C. Winston Company
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Publication Date: [190-?]
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Stencil work -- Specimens   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1905
Bldn -- 1905
Genre: Children's poetry
fiction   ( marcgt )
General Note: "From the twenty-third edition of the celebrated German work of Dr. Henry Hoffmann"--At foot of added illustrated t.p. on p. 3
General Note: Illustrations are hand-colored with stencils.
General Note: Last two leaevs are printer's blanks.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00087058
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002242194
oclc - 34282985
notis - ALJ3123

Full Text

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The Baldwin Library
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and Funny


for Good

With Colored

Little Folks


After the Original Style

This special edition is published by










SWhen children have been good,
SThat is, be it understood,
Good at meal-times, good at play,
Good at night, and good all day,-
They shall have the pretty things
Merry Christmas always brings
Naughty, romping girls and boys
Tear their clothes and make a noise,
Soil their aprons and their frocks,
And deserve no Christmas-box.
Such as these shall never look
At this pretty Picture-Book.



See Slovenly Peter! Here he stands,
With his dirty hair and hands.
See! his nails are never cut;
They are grim'd as black as soot;
No water for many weeks,
Has been near his cheeks;
And the ploven, I declare,
Not once this year has combed his hair!
Anything to me is sweeter
Than to see shock-headed Peter.


This Frederick! this Frederick!
A naughty, wicked boy was he;
He caught the flies, poor little things,
And then tore off their tiny wings;
He killed the birds, and broke the chairs,
And threw the kitten down the stairs;
And oh! far worse and worse,
He whipp'd his good and gentle nurse!






The trough was full, and faithful Tray
Came out to drink one sultry day;
He wagg'd his tail, and wet his lip,
When cruel Fred snatch'd up a whip,
And whipp'd poor Tray till he was sore,
r And kick'd and whipp'd him more and
\ more;
At this, good Tray grew very red,
And growl'd and bit him till he bled;
f- Then you should only have been by,
\To see how Fred did scream and cry


But good dog Tray is happy now;
He has no time to say "bow-wow!"
He seats himself in Frederick's chair,
And laughs to see the nice things there:
The soup he swallows, sup by sup,-
And eats the pies and puddings up.



Mamma and Nurse went out one day,
And left Pauline alone at play;
Around the room she gayly sprung,
-Clapp'd her hands, and danced, and sung.
Now, on the table close at hand,
A box of matches chanc'd to stand,
---- jAnd kind Mamma and Nurse had told her,
That if she touch'd them they would scold
But Pauline said, "Oh, what a pity.!
For, when they burn, it is so pretty;
i They crackle so, and spit, and flame;
And Mamma often burns the same.
I'll just light a match or two
As I have often seen my mother do."

When Minz and Maunz, the pussy-cats,
heard this
o ao They held up their paws and began to hiss.
S* "Me-ow!" they said, "me-ow, me-ol
S You'll burn to death, if you do so,
Your parents have forbidden you, you

D. But Pauline would not take advice,
She lit a match, it was so nice!
It crackled so, it burn'd so clear,-
Exactly like the picture here.
She jump'd for joy and ran about,
SAnd was too pleased to put it out.

When Minz and Maunz, the little cats,
saw this,
II They said, "Oh, naughty, naughty Miss!"
.1 '-_ A And stretch'd their claws,
S- -And rais'd their paws;
"'Tis very, very wrong, you know;
7< Me-ow, me-o, me-ow, me-o!
You will be burnt if you do so,
O 0 Your mother has forbidden you, you
Ci OIa know."

Now see! oh! see, what a dreadful thing
The fire has caught her apron-string;
Her apron burns, her arms, her hair;
She burns all over, everywhere.

Then how the pussy-cats did mew,
What else, poor pussies, could they do?
They scream'd for help, 'twas all in vain,
So then, they said, "We'll scream again.
Make haste, make haste! me-ow! me-o!
She'll burn to death,-we told her so."

So she was burnt with all her clothes,
And arms and hands, and eyes and nose;
Till she had nothing more to lose
Except her little scarlet shoes;
And nothing else but these was found
Among her ashes on the ground.

And when the good cats sat beside
The smoking ashes, how they cried!
"Me-ow, me-o! Me-ow, me-oo!
What will Mamma and Nursy do?"
Their tears ran down their cheeks so fast,
They made a little pond at last.


As he had often done before,
The woolly-headed black-a-moor
One nice fine summer's day went out
To see the shops and walk about;
And as he found it hot, poor fellow,
He took with him his green umbrella.
Then Edward, little noisy wag,
Ran out and laiigh'd, and waved his flag,
And William came in jacket trim,
And brought his wooden hoop with him;
And Caspar, too, snatch'd up his toys
And joined the other haughty boys;
So one and all set up a roar,
And laughed and hooted more and more,
And kept on singing,-only think!-
"Ohl Blacky, you're as black as ink."




Now Saint Nicholas lived close by,-
So tall he almost touched the sky;
He had a mighty inkstand too,
In which a great goose-feather grew;
He called out in an angry tone,
A "Boys, leave the black-a-moor alone!
For if he tries with all his might,
He cannot change from black to white."
But ah! they did not mind a bit
What Saint Nicholas said of it;
But went on laughing, as before,
And hooting at the black-a-moor.



Then Saint Nicholas foams with rage:
Look at him on this very page!
He seizes Caspar, seizes Ned,
Takes William by his little head;
And they may scream, and kick, and call,
But into the ink he dips them all;
Into the inkstand, one, two, three,
Till they are black, as black can be;
Turn over now and you shall see.


See, there they are, and there they run! I
The black-a-moor enjoys the fun.
They have been made as black as crows,
Quite black all over, eyes and nose,
And legs, and arms, and heads, and toes,
And trowsers, pinafores, and toys,-
The silly little inky boys! 0
Because they set up such a roar,
And teas'd the harmless black-a-moor.


This is the Wild Huntsman that shoots the hares;
With the grass-green coat he always wears:
With game-bag, powder-horn and gun,
He's going out to have some fun.
He finds it hard, without a pair
Of spectacles, to shoot the hare:
He put his spectacles upon his nose,
and said,
"Now I will shoot the hares, and kill
them dead."

The hare sits snug in leaves and grass
And laughs to see the green man pass.


Now, as the sun grew very hot
And he a heavy gun had got,
He lay down underneath a tree
And went to sleep, as you may see.
And, while he slept like any top,
The little hare came, hop, hop, hop,-
Took gun and spectacles, and then
Softly on tiptoe went off again.

TT i





The green man wakes, and sees her place
The spectacles upon her face.
She pointed the gun at the hunter's heart,
Who jumped up at once with a start.
He cries, and screams, and runs away,
"Help me, good people, help! I pray."

At last he stumbled at the well,
Head over ears, and in he fell.
The hare stopped short, took aim, and hark
Bang went the gun!-she miss'd her mark!
The poor man's wife was drinking up
Her coffee in her coffee-cup;
The gun shot cup and saucer through;
"0 dear!" cried she, "what shall I do?"
Hiding close by the cottage there,
Was the hare's own child, the little hare;
When he heard the shot, he quickly arose,
And while he stood upon his toes,
The coffee fell and bun'd his nose;
"0 dear," he cried, "what burns me so?"
And held up the spoon with his little toe.


i~---=I2: --~----~rl=


One day, Mamma said, "Conrad dear,
I must go out and leave you here.
But mind now, Conrad, what I say,
Don't suck your thumb while I'm
The great tall tailor always comes
To little boys that suck their thumbs;
And ere they dream what he's about,
He takes his great sharp 'scissors out
And cuts their thumbs clean off,-and
You know, they never grow again."

Mamma had scarcely turn'd her back,
The thumb was in, alack! alack!


The door flew open, in he ran,
The great, long, red-legged scissor-
Oh! children, see! the tailor's come
And caught our little Suck-a-Thumb.
Snip! Snap! Snip! the scissors go;
And Conrad cries out-Oh! Oh! Oh!
Snip! Snap! Snip! They go so fast;
That both his thumbs are off at last.

Mamma comes home; there Conrad stands,
And looks quite sad, and shows his hands;-
"Ah!" said Mamma, "I knew he'd come
To naughty little Suck-a-Thumb."


Augustus was a chubby lad;
Fat ruddy cheeks Augustus had;
And everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty healthy boy.
He ate and drank as he was told,
And never let his soup get cold.
But one day, one cold winter's day,
He threw away the spoon and screamed:
"0 take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day:
I will not, will not eat my soup
I will not eat it, no!"

Next day, now look, the picture shows
How lank and lean Augustus grows!
Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,
The naughty fellow cries out still-
"Not any soup for me, I say!
0 take the nasty soup away!
I will not, will not eat my soup!
I will not eat it, no!"

The third day comes. 0 what a sin!
To make himself so pale and thin.
Yet, when the soup is put on table,
He screams, as loud as he is able-
"Not any soup for me, I say!
O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day!"_

/ Look at him, now the fourth
day's come!
He scarce outweighs a sugar-plum;
He's like a little bit of thread;
And on the fifth day he was-deadI



"Let me see if Philip can
Be a little gentleman;
Let me see if he is able
To sit still for once at table."
Thus spoke, in earnest tone,
The father to his son;
And the mother looked very grave
To see Philip so misbehave.
But Philip he did not mind
His father who was so kind.
He wriggled
And giggled,
And then, I declare,
Swung backward and forward
And tilted his chair,
Just like any rocking horse;-
"Philip1 I am getting cross "


See the naughty, restless child,
Growing still more rude and wild,
Till his chair falls over quite.
Philip screams with all his might,
Catches at the cloth, but then
That makes matters worse again.
Down upon the ground they fall,
Glasses, bread, knives, forks and all.
How Mamma did fret and frown,
When she saw them tumbling down
And Papa made such a face!
Philip is in sad disgrace.


Where is Philip? Where is he?
Fairly cover'd up, you see!
Cloth and all are lying on him;
He has pull'd down all upon himl
What a terrible to-do!
Dishes, glasses, snapt in two!
Here a knife, and there fork!
Philip, this is naughty work.
Table all so bare, and ah!
Poor Papa, and poor Mamma
Look quite cross, and wonder how
They shall make their dinner now.


As he trudg'd along to school,
It was always Johnny's rule
To be looking at the sky
And the clouds that floated by;
But what just before him lay,
In his way,
Johnny never thought about;
So that every one cried out-
"Look at little Johnny there,
Little Johnny Head-In-Airl"
Running just in Johnny's way,
Came a little dog one day;
Johnny's eyes were still astray
Up on high,
In the sky;
And he never heard them cry-
"Johnny, mind, the dog is nighl"
What happens now?
Down they fell, with such a thump,
Dog and Johnny in a lump I
They almost broke their bones
So hard they tumbled on the stones.


Once, with head as high as ever,
Johnny walked beside the river.
Johnny watch'd the swallows trying
Which was cleverest at flying.
Oh! what fun
Johnny watch'd the bright round sun
Going in and coming out;
This was all he thought about.
So he strode on, only think!
To the river's very brink,
Where the bank was high and steep,
And the water very deep;
And the fishes, in a row,
Stared to see him coming so.

One step more!- Oh! sad to tell
Headlong in poor Johnny fell.
The three little fishes, in dismay,
Wagg'd their tails and swam away


There lay Johnny on his face;
With his nice red writing-case;
But, as they were passing by,
Two strong men had heard him cry;
And, with sticks, these two strong men
Hook'd poor Johnny out again.

Oh! you should have seen him shiver
When they pull'd him from the river
He was in a sorry plight,
Dripping wet, and such a fright!
Wet all over, everywhere,
Clothes, and arms, and face, and hair
Johnny never will forget
What it is to be so wet.

And the fishes, one, two, three,
Are come back again, you see;
Up they came the moment after,
To enjoy the fun and laughter.'
Each popp'd out his little head,
And, to tease poor Johnny, said,
"Silly little Johnny, look,
You have lost your writing-bookl"
Look at them laughing, and do you see?
His satchel is drifting far out to sea!


When the rain comes tumbling down
In the country or the town,
All good littlee girls and boys
Stay at home and mind their toys.
/b ^ i/ iRobert thought,-" No, when it pours,
SIt is better out of doors."
Rain it did, and in a minute
4 Bob was in it.
Here you see him, silly fellow,
Underneath his red umbrella.

What a wind! Oh! how it whistles
Through the trees and flowers and
It has caught his red umbrella;
Now look at him, silly fellow,
Up he flies
To the skies.
No one heard his screams and cries;
Through the clouds the rude wind '
bore him,
And his hat flew on before him.

SSoon they got to such height,
They were nearly out of sight!
And the hat went up so high,
That it almost touch'd the sky.
SNo one ever yet could tell
Where they stopped, or where they fell;
as- ,Only this one thing is plain,
Rob was never seen again!


The little Jacob was so small,
He could no smaller be;
When he took off his little coat.
Just like a stick looked he.
His parents, therefore, anxious were
About their little Jake,
And said, "Oh, dear.I what can we do
Our Jacob fat to make?
All sorts of nice things we must get
For our dear boy to eat;
Meats boiled and roasted, baked and fried,
And pies and puddings sweet.
And then, besides, we'll let him drink
Plenty of wine and beer;
And if this does not make him fat,
Why nothing will, we fear."
This, diet, then, they put him on,
And soon, to their great joy,
They found that fat and fatter grew
Their darling little boy.
When six months passed, and he had grown
Fat as you see him here,
His parents said, "You need not now
Eat quite so much, my dear;
For, oh! if you become too fat,
We then may try in vain,
lTnless we give you bitter pills,
To make you thin again."

But Jacob would not then obey
He only ate the more,
Until, at length, he grew as fat-
As he was thin before.
One day a hearty meal he made,
But still was not content;
Cake, wine, and beer, he slyly took,
And to the fields he went.
There, for a while, like any pig,
He ate and drank alone,
But suddenly his mother heard
Her little Jacob moan.
Out of the house, off to the fields
Swift as-a flash she flew;
Alas! alas! what saw she there?
Her Jacob broke in two.
I'll say this much to boys and girls
If they be thick or thin,
That, be this story true or false,
U Sure gluttony's a sin.

110c- "-
^ "fa CA

^ ^ ^^i^ .


Come listen while I tell you now,
About a certain youth,
Who had one dreadful, dreadful fault,
IIe never told the truth.
And while he uttered lies lie was
So handy and so bold,
That he appeared as innocent
As if the truth he told.
One morning, faithful Tray was found
Upon the pavement dead,
And Frank had killed him with a stone,
His little comrades said.
" 'Twas you who killed the dog," cried Frank,
"What stories you do tell;"
But soon the fact was proved on him,
And his father whipped him well.

One day into the room he rushed,-
His eyes were glowing, cheeks were flushed,
"Oh! mother, father, dear," he said,
"My little sisters both are dead!
Emma fell down and broke her back,
And little Fan her skull did crack!"
The parents were distracted nearly,
They loved their little girls so dearly;
But scarce the words had from him slipped.
When in the little sisters tripped.
The parents' joy now who can tell?
And Frank again they punished well.

One night, when all had gone to bed,
Frank took it in his little head
That he the people would affright,
By crying fire with all his might.
"Fire! fire!" he screamed. Oh, then 'twas fun
For him to see the people run.
"Fire! fire! turn out! where is it-where?"
They cried; he answered, "There! there! there"
Till, finding they had been deceived
And feeling very much aggrieved,
They poured upon the little liar
The water destined for the fire.

When to his home he came again,
He tried to speak, but 'twas in vain;
Dreadful to tell, he had become
Through cold and fright quite deaf and dumb.
For a whole year he spoke no word;
No sound in this long time he heard;
When suddenly one day he tried
To speak, and found his tongue untied.
With joy his voice again he hears,-
He scarcely can believe his ears;
But greater was the parents' joy
To find their son a truthful boy;
For from that time he never spoke
An untrue word, or played a joke.


The village clock is striking eight,
And children, each with book and slate,
Are hurrying off to -school.
They linger not to talk or play,
But hasten forward on their way-
Such is the teacher's rule.

With spectacles upon his nose
He to the upper window goes;
Right glad is he to view
The little folks on learning bent,
Approaching with a heart content,
Their studies to pursue.

And there is Tom, whose empty head
Is with a great big cap o'erspread.
But see; he turns aside;
He scorns the sweets that knowledge yields
And oft prefers to roam the fields
From morn till eventide.
Oft too the warblers of the air
Are tangled in some secret snare,
Spread by this naughty boy;
But darker deeds and thievish gains
Now occupy his little brains,
And all his thoughts employ.

He ponders deep, he ponders long;
Says he, "The teacher is among
His pupils and his books;
What danger if at such a time
I try his apple-trees to climb?
No eye upon me looks."


So o'er the garden wall he went,
And to a tree his footsteps bent,
Whose excellence he knew;
SWhere many an apple ripe and red,
S All temptingly above his head,
In rich profusion grew.

Now mark this naughty little lad,
While busied in a deed so bad,
How full he is of fear.
He looks about with anxious eyes,
Before, behind, he peeps and pries,
Lest some one should be near.
But finding all is safe around,
His hat and coat upon the ground
With eager haste he throws;
Then with both hands the trunk he grasps,
With both his knees he tightly clasps,
And up the tree he goes.

But, ohl what language can express
Th' alarm and horrible distress
That racks poor Tommy's mind,
To feel some strange mysterious force
Arrest him in his upward course,
; By seizing him behind!
O'erwhelmed with fear at once he stops,
And almost from the tree he drops
Down to the ground beneath;
For, looking round to know the cause,
I He sees the bull-dog's open jaws,
And sees his glittering teeth.

Aloud he shouts, aloud he bawls,
And long for help he vainly calls;
No rescuing friend appears.
At length, despite the children's noise,
The echoes of his suppliant voice
Strike on the teacher's ears.
Quickly he hastens out to see
What in the world the cause can be
Of such uproarious cries,
And looking o'er the garden wall,
Beholds the thief, the dog and all,
With horror and surprise.

Nor stood he long with wonder mute;
A word to the obedient brute
At once gives Tom relief.
But ever since that luckless morn,
Object of universal scorn,
He's nick-named-Tom the Thief.


S6) "Here, Charlotte," said Mamma one day,
"These stockings knit while I'm away;
SAnd should you fail, be sure you'll find
Mamma is strict, although she's kind."

But Charlotte took a lazy fit,
SAnd did not feel inclined to knit;.
And soon upon the ground let fall
Needles, and worsted, hose, and all.

"I shall not knit," said she, "not I;
At least not now, but by and by;"
Then stretched, and yawned, and rubbed her eyes,
Like sluggards, when 'tis time to rise.

SBut when Mamma came home,
Sand found
T The work all strewed upon the
Quoth she, "You will not knit,
and so
To school barefooted you shall

\\ This put poor Charlotte in a
\ 1 fright,
S -And though she knew it served
S her right,
She wept, and begged, and
prayed; but still
She could not change her
mother's will.

To school, where all were spruce and
Poor Charlotte went with naked feet.
Some showed their pity, some their
pride, -
While Charlotte hid her face and cried.


"I pray you now, my little child,"
Thus once a kind old lady
Spoke to her niece in accents mild,
"Do try to be more steady.
A I know that you will often see
Rude boys push, drive, and hurry;
But little girls should never be
All in a heat and flurry."

While thus the lady gave advice,
SJ And lectured little Polly,
STo see her stand with downcast eyes,
You'd think she owned her folly.
She did, and many a promise made;
But when her aunt departed,
Forgetting all, the merry maid
Off to the play-ground started.
Now see what frolic and what fun
The little folks are after;
Away they jump, away they run,
With many a shout of laughter.

-" -



But fools who never will be taught,
Except by some disaster,
Soon find their knowledge dearly bought,
And of a cruel master.
This little girl, who, spite of all
Her good old aunt had spoken,
Would romp about, had such a fall
That her poor leg was broken.

In sore amaze, the standers by
Soon placed her on a barrow.
But, oh! to hear her scream and cry
Their inmost souls did harrow.
See how her brother bursts in tears,
When told the dreadful story;
And see how carefully he bears
The limb all wet and gory.
Full many a week, screwed up in bed,
She lingered sad and weary;
And went on crutches, it is said,
Ev'n to the grave so dreary.


I '"0, why are you always so bitterly crying?
v You surely will make yourself blind.
SWhat reason on earth for such sobbing and
I pray can you possibly find?
J 'Tis no real sorrow, 'tis nothing distressing,
W That makes you thus grieve and lament.
Ah! no; you are even this moment possessing
Whatever should make you content.
Now do, my dear daughter, give over this
Such was a kind mother's advice.
But all was in vain; for you see she's still keep-
Her handkerchief up to her eyes.
But now she removes it; and oh! she discloses
A countenance full of dismay;
For she certainly feels, or at least she supposes,
'IHer eyesight is going away.
She is not mistaken, her sight is departing;
She knows it, and sorrows the more;
Then rubs her sore eyes, to relieve them from
And makes them still worse than before.
And now the poor creature is cautiously crawl-
And feeling her way all around;
And now from their sockets her eyeballs are
See, there they are, down on the ground.
SMy children, from such an example take warn-
And happily live while you may;
SAnd say to yourselves, when you rise in the
-- "I'll try to be cheerful to-day."



I never saw a girl or boy
So prone as Sophy to destroy
SWhate'er she laid her hands upon,
Though tough as wood, or hard as stone;
No matter who the thing might claim,
With Sophy it was all the same;
No matter were it choice or rare,
For naught did the destroyer care.
Her.-playthings shared the common lot;
Though hers they were she spared them not.
/Her dolls she oft tore limb from limb,
To gratify her foolish whim.
"Fie!" said her mother, "don't you know,
That if you use your playthings so,
Kriss Kringle will in wrath refuse
To give you what you thus abuse?
Remember, how in years gone by,
You've always found a rich supply
Of Christmas presents; but beware,
You'll find no more another year."

_-. .

You'd think such words would
surely tend
To make this child her ways amend.
But no; she still her course pursued,
Regardless of advice so good.
But when her mother sees 'tis plain
That all her arguments are vain,
Says she, "Since I have done my
I'll let experience do the rest."
Meantime the season of the year
For Christmas gifts was drawing
And Sophy doubted not that she
An ample store of them would see.

At length the happy hour was come,
SThe children, led into a room,
Behold, with wonder and surprise,
Three tables set before their eyes.
One is for Nelly, one for Ned,
And both with choicest treasures
The other table is left bare,
And see, poor Sophy's standing
"You see, my loves," their father
"Kriss Kringle has the difference
S Which oft we told you that lie would,
Between the naughty and the good."



_ V)

I "fl I
/ a

k *rllim


Now Minny was a pretty girl,
Her hair so gracefully did curl;
She had a slender figure, too, -
And rosy cheeks, and eyes of blue.
And yet, with all those beauties rare,
Those angel eyes and curly hair,
Oh! many, many faults had she,
The worst of which was jealousy.
When on the shining Christmas tree
St. Nicholas hung his gifts so free,
The envious Minny could not bear
With any one these gifts to share.
Her tender mother
And to reform her


And when her sisters' birthdays came,
Minny (it must be told with shame)
Would envy every pretty thing
Which dear mamma to them would bring.
Sometimes great tears rolled from her eyes,
Sometimes she pierced the air with cries,
For days together she would fret
Because their toys she could not get.
Ah, then! how changed this pretty child.
No longer amiable and mild,
That fairy form and smiling face
Lost all their sprightliness and grace.
ter tried;

"Oh! Minny, Minny," she would say,
"Quite yellow you will turn some day."

Now came the merry Christmas feast;
St. Nicholas broughtto even the least
Such pretty presents, rich and rare,
But all the best for Minny were.

But Minny was not satisfied,
She pouted, fretted, sulked, and cried;
Sisters and brothers had no rest,-
She vowed their presents were the best.

'Now, to her little sister Bess
St. Nicholas brought a yellow dress;
This Minny longed for (envious child)
And snatched it from her sister mild.
Then all in tears did Bessy run
To tell her mother what was done,
While Minny ran triumphantly
To try the dress on, as you see.

And springing quickly to the glass,
What saw she there? alas! alas!
Oh! what a sad, a deep disgrace!
She found she had a yellow face.
"Ah, me!" she cried, now, in despair,
"Where are my rosy cheeks-oh, where?"
"Ho!" screamed the parrot, "now you see
The punishment of jealousy!"



The little girls whom here you see
Were sisters in one family;
And both enjoyed an equal share
Of a kind mother's anxious care.

The one in neatness took a pride,
And oft the brush and comb applied;
Oft washed her face, and oft her hands;
See, now, thus occupied she stands.

The other-oh! I grieve to say
How she would scream and run away,
Soon as she saw her mother stand
With water by, and sponge in hand.
She'd kick,. and stamp, and jump about,
And set up such an awful shout,
That one who did not know the child,
Would say she must be going wild.

In consequence it came to pass,
While one was quite a pretty lass
And many a fond admirer gained,
And many a little gift obtained;
The other, viewed with general scorn,
Was left forsaken and forlorn;
For no one can endure to see
A child all dirt and misery.

~--L --- --

Behold how needful 'tis that we
Should clean in dress and person be;
Or else, believe me, 'tis in vain
We hope affection to obtain.
A sloven will be always viewed
With pity by the wise and good;
While ev'n the vicious and the base
Behold with scorn-a dirty face.


THE poor dumb creatures, great and small,
Were all afraid of cruel Paul.
He caught the pretty butterflies,
And, thrusting needles through their eyes,
Would pin them fast upon his hat,
And leave them writhing-think of that!
The pigeons, too-poor little things!-
S He caught, and broke their glossy wings;
He chased the turkeys, geese, and hens,
And pulled their feathers out for pens;
He caught poor pussy by the tail,
And tied her fast upon the rail;
He chased the dogs with stones and sticks
And, oh! he played such cruel tricks,
That bird, and beast, and insect small, j
Tumbled and ran when they saw Paul. 1

Now see, my dears, this naughty child,
Oh! does he not look fierce and wild?
Well, this is just the very way
Paul went about from day to day.

But, oh! my children, see him here,
His turn came soon to quake with fear.
One summer's day, with one accord,
The creatures gave him his reward:
The cat sprang up, and scratched his nose;
The rats came out and gnawed his toes;
The dogs flew at his legs and back;
The geese came waddling-quack! quack! quack!
And even the crows that you see there,
Flew down and pulled him by the hair.
The chickens tried to pick his eyes;

And katydids, and bees, and flies,
Came streaming out from all the trees,
This cruel boy to sting and tease.
He struggled, fought with all his might,
But still the creatures held him tight.
"Oh! no," cried they, "you'll not go free,
You shall repent your cruelty.
No more dumb creatures you'll torment,
To punish you we now are bent."
They stung, they bit him foot and head,
Nor left him till he fell quite dead.


BETSY would never wash herself
When from her bed she rose,
But just as quickly as she could
She hurried on her clothes.

To keep her clothes all nice and clean
Miss Betsy took no pains;
In holes her stockings always were,
Her dresses filled with stains.

Sometimes she went day after day
And never combed her hair,
While little feathers from her bed
Stuck on it here and there.

The schoolboys, when they Betsy saw,
Would point her out, and cry,
"Oh! Betsy, what a sight you are!
Oh! Slovenly Betsy, fie!"

One rainy day her parents went
Some pleasant friends to meet;
They took Miss Betsy with them,
And dressed her clean and neat.

Nice little boys and girls were there,
With whom our Betsy played,
Until of playing she grew tired,
And to the garden strayed.

Out in the rain she danced awhile,
But 'twas not long before
Flat down she tumbled in the mud,
And all her nice clothes tore.

Oh! what a sight she was, indeed,
When in the room she came;
The guests all loudly laughed at her,
And she almost died with shame.

She turned, and to her home she ran,
And, just as here you see,
She washed her clothes, and since has been
As neat as she could be.


THIS Phoebe Ann was a very proud girl,
Her nose had always this upward curl-
She thought herself better than all beside,
And beat the peacock himself in pride.
She thought the earth so dirty and brown,
That she never, by any chance, looked down;
And held her head so very high
That her neck began to stretch, bye and bye-
It stretched and it stretched, and it grew so
That her parents thought something must be
It stretched and stretched, and they soon
To look up with fear at their Phoebe Ann,
They prayed her to stop her upward gaze,
But Phoebe kept on in her old proud ways;
At last it grew so long and spare,
That her head was more than this neck could
And it bent to the ground, like a willow tree,
And brought down the head of this proud
Whenever she went out, a walk to take,
The boys would holler, "Here comes a
And it got so heavy a load to drag on,
She had to push her head about on a little
So don't you hold your head too high,
Or your neck may stretch too, bye and bye.

LucY was restless and tired of her home,
She sulked and she pouted, and wanted to roam
Because Katy's wax doll had a bright blue eye,
And lived in a baby house four stories high,
All furnished with tables, and stoves, and chairs,
With carpets, and candles, and kitchen wares;
While Jane had a bird that could almost speak,
And Betty had tea parties every week;
Susan had candy whenever she chose,
SAnd Mary Ann wore the most splendid clothes;
Nelly's mamma in a carriage rode,
SWhile Lucy's mother baked, scrubbed, and sewed;
Patty's papa could to Newport go,
While Lucy's had daily to handle the hoe:
SSo she envied her friends their grand estate,
And fretted and cried at her own sad fate.
A n Under a tree she was sitting one day,
SWhile her work in her lap neglected lay-
s, "Hoho! ho!-ho!" with a voice of glee,
Came from the topmost branch of the tree,
Where was perched a black and shiny crow,
Looking at Lucy down below.
"What do you want? you ugly bird!"
S"Ho!-ho! he!-he!" 'Twas thus she heard-
"Come with me, come with me,
Lucy, if you wish to see
S \ All on earth that is good and pretty-
SGreat dolls with eyes that roll about,
That talk, and cry, and smile, and pout;
Mountains of candy shining as gold,
With pink stripe and yellow, you shall behold;
Oceans of jam-pots of honey--
Plenty of sugar and plenty of money;
And you shall play,
The livelong day,
With toys of all kinds that are nicest for you,
No school, no task, and nothing to do;


For my master, Gobhoblin, loves little girls dear,
And to pick up some nice one has sent me here.
Come on, pretty Lucy, and fear no disaster,
Let me take you to see Gobhoblin, my master;
I'll hop from the tree, and you jump on my tail,
And I'll carry you to him without any fail."

So on she jumped, away they flew-
Clap-clap-rattle-rattle-without more ado.
They flew so fast, and they flew so high,
That they soon got very far into the sky-
They flew so fast,
The town they passed,
And got into the fields where the tall trees grew,
While above their heads there was nothing but
But the trees looked glum, and seemed to say,
"Oh! you naughty bad girl for running away!"

Then Lucy was sorry for what she had done,
Ahd wished very much that she had not gone,
And begged the crow to take her home
To her father's and mother's quiet room;
But although she cried till her eyes were red,
Still "Caw! caw! caw!" was all he said.
"We'll stop," added he, "for a moment or so,
To visit my lady the good Madam Crow,
Who lives on that tree,
Over there that you see,
With all my little family."

With terror and with fright oppressed,
Lucy was glad enough to rest
By the side of the dark and dreary nest.

Now two hunters out for sport that day,
Happened to pass along that way;

The one was thin, with a stove-pipe hat,
The other was short, and dumpy, and fat,
With very low shoes and very tight clothes,
And a large pair of spectacles over his nose;
They had but one gun which they carried between
And looked so droll, you'd have laughed had you
seen 'em.
"Oh, what a shot!
See what we've got!
A great black Crow!
Don't let him go
Rest the gun on my shoulder!"
Said the shorter and bolder;
"Come, fire away!
Don't lose all day!"
Slap-bang! the gun popped,
Down-down the bird dropped--
And Lucy too, with a fearful bound,
Tumbling and rolling fell to the ground.
The men rubbed their eyes,
And showed great surprise--
When they looked at her head
They thought she was dead-
But soon they heard poor Lucy speak,
In such a tiny little squeak-
"Oh! no-I ain't dead; just rub off the dirt,
And you'll find I am only a little hurt:
I'm such a bad girl-I ran away-
Oh! take me home-I beg-I pray."
So they took her home, where she is to this day,
A proof of the truth of what I say;
And a lesson to all little girls who fret
And worry for things that they cannot get,
Not to envy their playfellows' clothes or toys,
Or the richer estate that she enjoys,
For that was the way that Lucy, you know,
Was carried away by that great black Crow.



FRITZ was an idle boy, indeed;,
He would not learn to write or read;
An ugly face he always made;
His parents, too, he disobeyed;
And mischief was the chief employ
Of this poor, foolish, idle boy.
Look at this picture now, my dear,
And see what he is doing here;
He holds his sister by the braid,
And beats the frightened little maid.
She begs, her tears flow down like rain;

Fritz only laughs to see her pain.
This cat and bird, here lying dead,
He caught and knocked them in the head.
He took from off the fence a rail,
And tied it to poor Carlo's tail;
And, oh! wouldd take me many days
To tell you all his wicked ways.
He for his parents nothing cared,
Therefore, to cure him they despaired:
And, finding they could bear no more,
They whipped and drove him from their door.



'Twas winter time-the snow fell fast,
And fiercely blew the wintry blast;
Fritz shook with cold from head to toe,
And knew not now where he should go.

But presently a cave he spied;
"Oh! there I'll refuge take," he cried.
Alas! alas! he did not know
That there he'd meet a cruel foe.

A wolf had made this cave his den;
Fritz never saw the light again.


'Tis Simple Hans that here you see,
The picture of stupidity.
His coat is on wrong side before,
His book is thrown upon the floor;
His father gave him yesterday
This pretty horse with which to play;
See how he holds it! awkward clown,
Its heels are up, its head is down.
Oh! if it were alive, my dear,

How terribly wouldd plunge and rear:
And, I declare, I'd just as soon
Go up and ask the man in the moon
To please to play on that trumpet a tune,
As I would ask Hans to play-the loon!
And then, too, see that foolish stare.
Ah! do, my little ones, take care
That nobody, by any chance,
Can call you Little Simple Hans.


THIS Hugo was a heedless child,
In mischief everywhere;
For him there was no prank too wild
Or dangerous to dare.

One day he saw a pile of wood,
And up he climbed, so bold;
The logs gave way while there he stood,
And down, down, down he rolled.

And once, when in a neighbor's yard
Our Hugo was at play,
He to the watch-dog's kennel ran,
And snatched his food away.

S Poor Carlo growled and struggled
Until he burst his chain;
S\ Then, at our Hugo's leg he flew,
And made him shriek with pain.

One day he cried, "Come, children, oh!
Come see how high I'll jump."
He sprang the rope, but caught his toe
And on his nose came plump.

He to the river one day ran,-
For Hugo nothing feared,-
Splash in he went-the little man-
And quickly disappeared.

But luckily a fisherman
Was standing on the shore,
Who pushed off in his little boat,
And held to him his oar.

Oh! didn't Hugo clutch it then?
For, though he ate the fish,
That they should try and swallow him
Was not at all his wish.


One day a carpenter was sent
The old church-steeple to repair,
And when he to his dinner went
He left his ladder hanging there.

Now Hugo happened just to be
That very moment passing by,
"Oh, dear!" he cried, and danced with glee,
"I'll climb that ladder there so high."

Then to the steeple up he flew,
Crept through the little window there;
Climbed up the little ladder too,
And made the little swallows stare.

But, oh! the ladder slipped and fell,
Just as he reached the steeple vane,
And Hugo-dreadful tale to tell-
Came never back to earth again.



WHEN other children were asleep
Our Oswald down the stairs would creep,
And to the fields he'd steal away,
Quite slyly by himself to play.
Sometimes he took the powder-horn,
And with the powder burnt the corn;
Sometimes he hid behind a tree,
And, rushing out quite suddenly,
Would make a loud and fearful cry,
And frighten all the passers-by.
Indeed, it was his chief delight
To run away from home at night.
His parents shook their heads, and said,
"Oh! Oswald, stay at home in bed,
For if you out at night do roam
A bat you surely will become."
But all their talking was in vain;
Still Oswald would go out again;
But, oh! just as his friends had said,
One night, as round the fields he sped,
Upon him came a wondrous change;
"Ah, me!" he cried, "How very strange!
I feel that I become so small,-
And now-I cannot walk at all.

I put my hands up to my head,
But find a bat's face in its stead;-
And now-my hands are gone. Oh, dear I
Instead of arms what have I here?
Such very, very curious things.
Why, can they be? Oh, yes, they're wings.
Alas! alas! what shall I do?
My parents' words are coming true.
An ugly bat I have become,
And never more shall I go home."

Oh! yes, my dears, it was too true;
An ugly bat away he flew;
His parents' tears streamed-down like rain;
They never saw their child again.


Now Christmas comes with all its joys,
And, O! such wondrous pretty toys
Kriss Kringle's men have brought to-night,
That you would marvel at the sight.

To Neddy e'en too many things
The happy night of Christmas brings. -
There's, first of all, a Christmas tree,
And, hanging from it, as you see, _''.
Of lighted tapers many a score,
And apples gilt and silvered o'er;
Whole piles of dainty gingerbread,
And plums, and sweetmeats there are spread; 8
And Ned is such a happy boy
He's fit to laugh for very joy Ia

A golden horse he finds besides,
Whose back a soldier bold bestrides,
A trumpet gilt-a drummer new,
Who beats a regular tattoo,
f As oft the handle round you twist
So often works each tiny fist.

Ned's father says: "Now mind, dear boy,
And while these presents you enjoy,
Still spoil not what you cannot make,
And do not all your playthings break."

But Ned would no attention pay-
He likes to spoil as well as play.
He breaks the trumpet right in two-
The drummer's handle in a freak
He madly turns, and makes it creak,
S---Till man and drum to pieces go.

But careless Neddy does not hear
The warning voice that meets his ear;
And when Papa has turned his back,
Again the toys go snap and crack!
The horse and rider both are dashed
Upon the floor, and reckless smashed;
And loud the soldier cries aghast:
"Ah me! Ah me! I'm dying fast!"

Now in the Christmas fairies trip,
And from the tree the apples strip,
They take the horse and gingerbread,
And all the playthings spoilt by Ned,
And with the broken fragments make
A substance which they knead and bake
And by-and-by, when duly warm,
Into a giant nose they form,-
Full six feet long, and very thick,
Which on to Neddy's face they stick;
And henceforth, with this hideous snout
Must Neddy live and go about.

The fragments form a heap confused-
Was ever drummer more ill-used?
Here lies a head and there a boot,
And here the drum that's henceforth mute;
And here a sword and there the stand,
And drumsticks, but without a hand.
In short, such ruin has been wrought,
'As though a battle had been fought!

And when Papa the mischief spies,
And sees the broken toys, he cries:
"Why, Ned, is this the care you take,
When told to play and not to break?"

WILL so delights to peep and pry,
That all about the house he goes,
'Upstairs and down, from low to high,-
And everywhere he pokes his nose.

Into the kitchen now he comes,
Where, that same morn, with luscious plums,
Made into jam, and still quite hot-
The cook had filled a giant pot.
Will must, of course, remove the lid
To see what treasures there lie hid,
When-losing his balance-up he trips,
And plump! head-foremost in he slips.

His feet are seen above the rim,
But sure the pot has swallowed himI
And buried in its sweets he lies,
That fill his mouth and stop his cries.

But cook now shrieks, tho' Will is dumb;
His startled parents quickly come,
And drag out Billy in a fright,
Oh, lack-a-day! Oh, what a sight!

SBlue is his jacket, shirt, and frill,
And blue inside and out is Bill!
So blue, so blue-
Thro' life he'll rue
The foolish prank that made him so;
For ne'er away the stain would go-
But blue face, neck, and hands remained,
___ And thus the name of Prying Bill he gained I


OH! how this Mary loved to eat,-
SIt was her chief delight;
She would have something, sour or sweet,
To munch from morn till night.

She to the pantry daily stole,
S And slyly she would take
Sugar, and plums, and sweetmeats, too,
And apples, nuts, and cake.

Her mother Mary oft reproved,
But, ah! it did no good;
Munch, nibble, chew, from morn to night,
The little glutton would.

One day, upon some bee-hives near
She chanced to cast her eyes;
"How nice that honey there must taste!"
She cried, and off she flies.

On tiptoe now the hives she nears,
Close up to them she creeps,
And through the little window panes
Quite cautiously she peeps.

"Oh, dear! how good it looks!" ,he cries,
As she the honey sees;
"I must, I will, indeed, have some;
It cannot hurt the bees."

And now a hive she gently lifts,-
Oh, foolish, foolish child-
Down, down it falls-out swarm the bees,
Buzzing with fury wild.

With fright she shrieks, and tries to run,
But, ah! 'tis all in vain;
Upon her light the angry bees,
And make her writhe with pain.

Four weeks and more did Mary lie
Upon her little bed,
And, ah! instead of honey, she
On medicine was fed.

Her parents grieved much at first
Their child so sick to see;
But once more well, with joy they found
Her cured of gluttony.


TOM BOGUS did, the naughty boy,
What you, I hope do not-
His sole delight, by morn, by night,
Was in the sugar-pot;
For he could eat, all by himself,
A lump of such large size,
'Twould take two days to view it round,
Though straining both your eyes.
His coffee ne'er was sweet enough,
E'en had he sixteen lumps;
And if they had no more to give
Would get into the dumps.

His mother, early in the morn,
Would go and fill the bowl,
By half-past one, it all was gone-
He'd eaten up the whole!


His father groaned and tore his hair,
It wrung his heart and purse;
But greedy Tommy had no care,
But kept on getting worse.
Molasses, sugar, or rock candy-
So that it tasted good and sweet-
He stole whenever it came handy,
And in a corner sneaked to eat.

Such toothaches sugar caused to Tom,
I hope you ne'er may feel;
The dentist was obliged to come
And make this Tommy squeal.

He soiled his pants with dirty barrels,
Sucking molasses through a straw-
And fought his sister, naughty quarrels!
If it was stopped and would not draw.
At last, the juice came through his pores,
And covered his skin with a sticky slime,
Till the bees and the flies flew about him in
And sucked at his body all the time:
They bit, they scratched, tormented, and
stung him,
Till he had no rest by night or day.
His schoolmates ran when he came among them,
So he never could get a chance to play.
At length his body became all sugar-
He had no blood, nor flesh, nor bones-
And got so soft, that when you touched him,
It made him cry with fearful moans.

One day when walking in the streets,
A heavy rain began to fall,
And washed and drenched his body of sweets,
Till it melted him down to nothing at all-
He ran away like softened butter,
When before the fire it is put to warm-
The pigs and the dogs ate him up in the gutter,
And this was the end of Sugary Tom.



I GUESS there ain't one little boy
Of all who read these lines-
Who to sliding down the bannisters,
Won't own that he inclines;
They think it's like the steam engine,
Or like a bird a flying,
Until they split their heads in two,
And then they fall a crying.
Now all you sliders hark to me-
Listen, your uncle begs-
HWhile he recites the sad story
Of Jimmy Sliderlegs.
Jimmy was always on the stairs,
By mors, by eves, by noons-
He wore out thirteen splendid pairs
Of bran-new pantaloons;
He bunged his eyes-he hurt his nose-
His father lectured him quite strongly-
- Gave him a beating of hard blows-
But Jimmy went on sliding wrongly,
And spoiled no end of costly clothes.
He stretched his legs so far apart
SBy such a frequent strain,
That it took all the Doctor's art
To get them back again.

" 1 1

One day his parents out had gone
To see a friend who'd come from France,
And Jimmy being quite alone,
Thought for a slide this was his chance,
He mounted to the highest story,
He clasped the bannisters around-
He gave a cry of "HoorayI Glory!"
And on the rail jumped with a bound-
Down! down he went-now quick, now quicker-
He went so fast, he could not see-
The turns first make him sick, then sicker-
His head began to whirl! Ah me!
Just like a windmill's sails a-turning,
He twisted, tumbled, turned and twirled-
His arms and legs flew far asunder!
His body on the floor was hurled!
He turned so fast that his head came off-
And his arms!
And his legs! !
Like so many pegs! !
Flew about in the air! 1 1
Now here! now there! I 1 -l
And all that was left, was a lock of his hair !! t I


YOUNG Iarry Cobus lived in town
And when the summer came,
Went out to visit Uncle Brown,
Who lived in Pudding Lane.
Harry, who in a city lived,
Knew nothing of the fields-
Grew wild with joy, and leaped and kicked,
And threw up both his heels-
Into the farm-yard quick he went,
And opened both his eyes,
To see the oxen and the cows,
And the long-legged Shang-hais.
Now Harry was a cruel boy,
Nor cared for others' pain,
So long as he could have his fun,
You'd mercy seek in vain.
"Oh! ho!" said he, "my long-legged chick,
With those big legs of yours,
You ought to run uncommon quick,
Let's see you show your power."
With that he raised a monstrous stone,
And threw it at one's head-
He fell right down, the others ran,
And left their comrade dead.

_ l-

f3 j~




Now when this deed his Uncle heard,
He wept, and moaned, and cried,
For it was his pet darling bird
That thus had fallen and died.
But soon the birds came running back,
A large and angry crowd-
On Harry cast their great big eyes,
And crowed and cackled loud;
About him now they clustered fast,
They circled him around,
Till frightened, trembling, he at last
Fell flat upon the ground.
The biggest bird, with a great gobble,
Then caught him by his pantaloons,
And ran, as fast as he could hobble,
Despite poor Harry's shrieks and groans;
He took him to the carter's pot,
All full of grease and nasty tar,
And dipped him in, and rolled him till
He got as sticky as candies are.
He took him then unto his nest
And rolled him there, till the feathers sticking
All over his head, and neck, and breast,
Just made him look like a Shang-hai chicken.
They put him then upon the eggs-
Of which there was a monstrous batch-
-And made him sit with his crooked legs,
With at least a hundred eggs to hatch.
Two great big roosters stand to watch,
To see that he don't run away;
And there he sets on that old nest,
I do believe to this very day.


OLD Doctor Wango Tango,
Had a long red nose;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Always wore green clothes;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Lived by himself all alone;
When he went out to ride,
He sat astride
Of a steed all skin and bone.
Old Doctor Wango Tango
Also had a cat,
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Let her sleep in his hat;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Wore a big red cloak;
And he had a long pipe,
Like the bill of a snipe,
Which he often used to smoke.
Old Doctor Wango Tango
Had a dog also;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Had a tame black crow;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Called his thin horse Sam;
His dog's name was Towser,
And his cat's name was Mouser,
And the crow's name was Flippity Flam.



Now old Doctor Wango Tango
Lived on a biscuit a day,
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Got very light this way;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Gave his animals nothing to eat,
Though it sometimes came to pass,
That they found a little grass,
Or a crust, or a bone without meat.
Now old Doctor Wango Tango
Went out one day to ride,
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Had Towser running by his side;
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Had Mouser sitting behind,
And Flippity Flam
Flew around old Sam:
Such a party you'll seldom find.
Now old Doctor Wango Tango
Rode to the top of a hill,
And old Doctor Wango Tango
Found the wind very high and chill-
Away blew. old Doctor Tango!
Away blew his thin horse Sam!
Away blew Towser and Mouser!
And the black crow, Flippity Flaml

Od^r t-4

Old Mammy Katchem, a worthy old cat,
Lived in a box lined with hay;
She could face, without winking, the wickedest
With a snap of her teeth she would soon lay
him flat,
In a true fighting, Tabby-cat way.
Old Mammy Katchem had three little kits-- ,
Tommykin, Pussy, and Bunch-
She gave them a mouse, pulled into small bits,
Every day before dinner for lunch;
They usually dined on what they could get-
What their Mammy could beg, catch, or steal-
And it mattered but little how often they ate,
They were always keen for a meal.
Bunch was a kitten with great staring eyes;
Puss was most frisky of friskers;
And Tommykin's points were his musical cries,
And thickness and length of his whiskers.
One day, Mammy Katchem abroad would go, --
To hunt up something for dinner-
For kittens must eat, like children, you know,
Or else they get thinner and thinner.

So she put on her bonnet and sharpened her
And though the three children looked glum,
She bade them keep close in the house-be-
If they didn't, to grief they'd come-
For a great savage dog lived just next door-
A dog without any feelings-
Who would eat three kittens, and bark for
In spite of their scratching and squealings;
And a dirty old man lived down the lane,
Who was fond fo savory stews-
And people did say, that time and again,
They had heard in his house painful mews-
Then kissing them all, she went on her way
To a barn in the neighborhood,
Where the corn-fed mice made nests in the hay
And grew very fat and good.
Now Tommykin was a kitten wild,
More apt to do wrong than right;
And what do you think this naughty child
Did-when Mammy was out of sight?

Why, he said he was going out for a run,
And that Pussy and Bunch must come too-
Shut up in that box, they could have no fun,
And there was no danger he knew.
Pussy said, at once, that she would not go;
But Bunch, who was rather weak,
And never could say, decidedly, "No!"
Agreed-though she felt like a sneak.
So they left the box, and away they ran,
In a scampering kind of race,
But the dog soon saw them-and then began
A very exciting chase:
Bunch ran this way-Tommykin that,-
Old Growler chased Bunch alone-
For he thought she looked like the tenderest cat,
He e'er in his life had known.
She reached the box-caught the side with her
And got in, by an active jump;
But the dog caught her tail in his cruel jaws,
And pulled it all off, but the stump

~IL ha ~ IIL



CF h_

Tommykin ran down the dirty lane,
Where the dirty old man soon caught him,
And, alas! he never was seen again,
Though his Mammy carefully sought him.
The dirty old man had a feast that day,
On pepper-pot soup he dined;
And after that dinner, the neighbors say,
If you looked, you could easily find
Before his door,
A dozen or more
Of little, well picked, white kitten bones,
Lying about on the pavement stones!

His mother and sisters mourned for him long,
And Bunch ne'er again did anything wrong;
For whenever she wanted to disobey,
She thought of that very dreadful day-
When she lost both her tail and her little brother-
So she ever after obeyed her mother.




x a

1 8/ZS



Young Peter should have gone to school,
But stole a holiday;
And like a naughty truant boy,
Ran off to fish and play.
The teacher found that he was gone,
And asked his cousin Jane,
"Where is the lazy Peter now?
He stays from school again!"
But ncilher Jane nor any one
Knew where the naughty boy had run.


X\ r

But Peter to the river came,
And found a little boat;
So jumping in he took the oars,
And far away did float.

And Peter saw beneath the flood,
Bright fishes, great and small;
And thought, as every schoolboy would,
He'd like to catch them all.


So in the river he let fall,
A baited hook and twine;
And soon the largest fish of all,
Was tugging at his line.
And Peter pulled and gave a shriek,
And caught it by the fin;
But Peter was too small and weak,
And the fish soon pulled him in;
Down with the fish must Peter go-
Down to the other fish below!

On this same day, not far away,
Two fishers their tackles set;
And little Peter with his fish,
Were caught in the same great
Their lines they drew the water
And pulled them to the strand.
And thought 'twas a fish with
coat and hat,
When Peter came to land.

For with the fishes, great and small,
Which they had caught that day,
Right in the midst among them all,
The naughty Peter lay:
The net, by chance, had caught him
Or Peter would have else been
So mind, ye children, what I say,
Ne'er while you live the truant play,
Or something worse may come to i'
Than e'en a wetting through and


THERE was once a

man and

his wife, who

one fine morning

found an egg. "Well," said

the wife,

"wait till it is, hatched:

and some

beautiful bird will certainly come from it!"

And when the egg was
hatched, what did they
have ?---A great Chicken,

a very


man and

said, 0 WHAT

his wife

And the Chicken



and make



And the man said
---" How sweetly
our dear Bird


But the


. N

And when the
Crow-Biddy snatch-
ed at everything on
the dinner-table, and
spilt the cream, the.
good wife said,"What
an appetite the dear
thing has!"

And when
he tore up
his school-
books, and
threw them
away, they 7
said,"Oh! our z
Pet knows

And when
he broke all
the plates and
dishes, they
said, "How
IS !"

After a time
the cock beat
the man, but
he only said,
"How strong
and stout he
is growing!"

One day the cock went
Sx into the street, and threw
I stones at the lamps and
windows, and husband
-A and wife both said, "In-
deed there is nobody like
him in the whole town."

But then
came a sol-
dier, and
caught the
cock, and
locked him 1
up in a dark
prison. This
time the hus-
band and wife
said nothing.

.... . ....

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