"Dear Mother Tabbyskins, Please attempt to purr: Ah! Mother Tabbyskins, But for Doctor Dog's advice Doctor Dog comes nearer, Scuffling out and in; Doctor Dog looks full and queer-- I will tell the Moral Without any fuss: Those who lead the young astray Always suffer thus. Chorus. Very nice, very nice, Let our conduct be; For all doctors are not mice, TEASING TOMMY. JEMMY, why do you tease Tom-my so? He does nothing but cry when you are near him. Jemmy. Mother, he cries for nothing at all. See, I do but whisk this whip before his face, and he screams, though I do not touch him. Mother. You forget that little children do not un-der-stand that sort of rough play. He thinks you mean to hurt him. Jemmy. He is such a baby, he is afraid of every-thing. Why, I pre-tend-ed I was going to throw him into the well-he must know I never meant to kill him, but oh! what a noise he made! Mother. I fear you do not love poor little Tommy; if you did, you could not find it so pleasant to frighten him. Jemmy. Oh, indeed, I am very fond of him, and I do like playing with him; he is a nice little boy; but he does scream even if I don't hurt him. Mother. You told me you were very perfect in your Cat-e-chism. Do you re-mem-ber something in it about doing to others as we would wish to be done by? Now would you like a great gi-ant of a man to catch you up, or pretend to hurt you, or take your things from you? Jemmy. I don't think I should mind; not much. Please, Mother, do not send me any more to the new school. I am one of the least boys there, and they do tease me so, I cannot bear it. Mother. Much as you tease little Tommy, I suppose ? Jemmy. Oh, much worse. They told me my father was a rat-catcher and gave me ratpie, and when I said it was a story, they laugh-ed at me till I cried. Mother. Then you were like a baby. What harm could such nonsense do you? Jemmy. And then they took my knife away from me, and said I was too young to be trusted with one; I should have it when I was bigger. Mother. And yet you wond-er-ed at Tommy minding it, when you snatch-ed away his ball. That ball was all the world to him-he cared for nothing but it. Jemmy. Well, I am sorry I did not try to make Tommy happy, and if you will but let me stay at home, or go to my old school, where I was one of the big fellows, I will be so good. Mother. But you see it was that very thing, being the top of the school, that made you tor-ment Tommy. You were too much used to doing ex-act-ly as you liked, and I believe you will grow up a better boy if you no longer can be a tyrant. STOPPING AWAY FROM SCHOOL. Ann. I am going into the fields to gather some dai-sies to make dai-sy chains to-day. Will you come with me? Mary. I will come after school, but not now. I want to get to be top of the class, and I cannot do that if I stop away. Ann. How stupid of you. is top of the class? Who cares who Mary. My mo-ther does, ve-ry much, for she wants me to get a place; and af-ter I am a ser-vant I shall not have time for much learn-ing. Ann. But why do you want to go to service? Do not you like stop-ping at home bet-ter? Mary. But is it not nice to know how to read? There are so ma-ny pret-ty tales in the books they lend us at school, as soon as we can read them. Ann. I like play bet-ter than a-ny books; but then I never do get to the top of the class, though I am big-ger than most of them. Mary. How can you get to the top if you stay a-way so of-ten? tell Ann. Mo-ther lets me do as I like, and I you I like play best. Mary. And yet you told me she beat you so one day, when you came home so wet and dirty from get-ting in-to the pond. Ann. So she did. She gets dread-fully an-gry some-times about my clothes, and says she can-not af-ford to keep me at home; yet if I can-not read, or write, or do sums, I should get but a poor place. EXCUSES. Master. Tom, bring your slate; you ought to have done your sum by this time. Why, you have not done one stroke. Why is that? Tom. Please, Sir, I had no slate-pen-cil. I for-got it. Master. But why did you not ask me for one? Tom. Please, Sir, Will Davies said we must not speak. Master. You must not talk to each other; but Will Davies and you both know you might ask me for a pencil, and that you must not sit do-ing no-thing all day long. Tom. Please, Sir, this sum is so hard. I do not know how to do it. Master. I show-ed you all how to do it today on the black-board; but did you not look at me? Tom. Please, Sir, I for-got to look. Master. I am sor-ry for you, Tom; but I will show you once more, and then you must not have your din-ner till the sum is done. Will Davies. Please, Sir, Tom beat Polly Wilson, as he came to school, till her nose bled. |