Cautionary Tales for Children
His father's Elder Sister, who
Was married to a Parvenoo,
Confided to Her Husband, "Drat!
The Miserable, Peevish Brat!
Why don't they drown the Little Beast?"
Suggestions which, to say the least,
Are not what we expect to hear
From Daughters of an English Peer.
His grandmamma, His Mother's Mother,
Who had some dignity or other,
The Garter, or no matter what,
I can't remember all the Lot!
Said "Oh! that I were Brisk and Spry
To give him that for which to cry!"
(An empty wish, alas! for she
Was Blind and nearly ninety-three).
The
Dear Old Butler
thought--but there!
I really neither know nor care
For what the Dear Old Butler thought!
In my opinion, Butlers ought
To know their place, and not to play
The Old Retainer night and day
I'm getting tired and so are you,
Let's cut the Poem into two!
* * *
LORD LUNDY
(_SECOND CANTO_)
It happened to Lord Lundy then,
As happens to so many men:
Towards the age of twenty-six,
They shoved him into politics;
In which profession he commanded
The income that his rank demanded
In turn as Secretary for
India, the Colonies, and War.
But very soon his friends began
To doubt if he were quite the man:
Thus, if a member rose to say
(As members do from day to day),
"Arising out of that reply ...!"
Lord Lundy would begin to cry.
A Hint at harmless little jobs
Would shake him with convulsive sobs.
While as for Revelations, these
Would simply bring him to his knees,
And leave him whimpering like a child.
It drove his Colleagues raving wild!
They let him sink from Post to Post,
From fifteen hundred at the most
To eight, and barely six--and then
To be Curator of Big Ben!...
And finally there came a Threat
To oust him from the Cabinet!
The Duke--his aged grand-sire--bore
The shame till he could bear no more.
He rallied his declining powers,
Summoned the youth to Brackley Towers,
And bitterly addressed him thus--
"Sir! you have disappointed us!
We had intended you to be
The next Prime Minister but three:
The stocks were sold; the Press was squared:
The Middle Class was quite prepared.
But as it is!... My language fails!
Go out and govern New South Wales!"
* * *
The Aged Patriot groaned and died:
And gracious! how Lord Lundy cried!
REBECCA,
_Who slammed Doors for Fun and Perished Miserably._
A Trick that everyone abhors
In Little Girls is slamming Doors.
A
Wealthy Banker's
Little Daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater
(By name Rebecca Offendort),
Was given to this Furious Sport.
She would deliberately go
And Slam the door like
Billy-Ho!
To make
her
Uncle Jacob start.
She was not really bad at heart,
But only rather rude and wild:
She was an aggravating child....
It happened that a Marble Bust
Of Abraham was standing just
Above the Door this little Lamb
Had carefully prepared to Slam,
And Down it came! It knocked her flat!
It laid her out! She looked like that.
* * *
Her funeral Sermon (which was long
And followed by a Sacred Song)
Mentioned her Virtues, it is true,
But dwelt upon her Vices too,
And showed the Dreadful End of One
Who goes and slams the door for Fun.
* * *
The children who were brought to hear
The awful Tale from far and near
Were much impressed,
and inly swore
They never more would slam the Door.
--As often they had done before.
GEORGE,
_Who played with a Dangerous Toy, and suffered a Catastrophe of
considerable Dimensions._
When George's Grandmamma was told
That George had been as good as Gold,
She Promised in the Afternoon
To buy him an _Immense BALLOON_.
And
so she did; but when it came,
It got into the candle flame,
And being of a dangerous sort
Exploded
with a loud report!
The Lights went out! The Windows broke!
The Room was filled with reeking smoke.
And in the darkness shrieks and yells
Were mingled with Electric Bells,
And falling masonry and groans,
And crunching, as of broken bones,
And dreadful shrieks, when, worst of all,
The House itself began to fall!
It tottered, shuddering to and fro,
Then crashed into the street below--
Which happened to be Savile Row.
* * *
When Help arrived, among the Dead
Were
Cousin Mary,
Little Fred,
The Footmen
(both of them),
The Groom,
The man that cleaned the Billiard-Room,
The Chaplain, and
The Still-Room Maid.
And I am dreadfully afraid
That Monsieur Champignon, the Chef,
Will now be
permanently deaf--
And both his
Aides
are much the same;
While George, who was in part to blame,
Received, you will regret to hear,
A nasty lump
behind the ear.
MORAL
The moral is that little Boys
Should not be given dangerous Toys.
CHARLES AUGUSTUS FORTESCUE,
_Who always Did what was Right, and so accumulated an Immense Fortune._
The nicest child I ever knew
Was Charles Augustus Fortescue.
He never lost his cap, or tore
His stockings or his pinafore:
In eating Bread he made no Crumbs,
He was extremely fond of sums,
To which, however, he preferred
The Parsing of a Latin Word--
He sought, when it was in his power,
For information twice an hour,
And as for finding Mutton-Fat
Unappetising, far from that!
He often, at his Father's Board,
Would beg them, of his own accord,
To give him, if they did not mind,
The Greasiest Morsels they could find--
His Later Years did not belie
The Promise of his Infancy.
In Public Life he always tried
To take a judgment Broad and Wide;
In Private, none was more than he
Renowned for quiet courtesy.
He rose at once in his Career,
And long before his Fortieth Year
Had wedded
Fifi,
Only Child
Of Bunyan, First Lord Aberfylde.
He thus became immensely Rich,
And built the Splendid Mansion which
Is called
_"The Cedars,
Muswell Hill,"_
Where he resides in Affluence still
To show what Everybody might
Become by
SIMPLY DOING RIGHT.