Cole's Funny Picture Book No. 1
As he grew worse and worse,
The doctor and nurse,
To cure his disorder were sent;
And rightly, you'll think,
He had physic to drink,
Which made him his folly repent.
And while on his bed
He roll'd his hot head,
Impatient with sickness and pain;
He could not but take
This reproof from his cake,
"Don't be such a glutton again!"
Another Plum Cake
"Oh! I've got a plum cake,
And a feast let us make,
Come, school-fellows, come at my call;
I assure you 'tis nice,
And we'll each have a slice,
Here's more than enough for us all."
Thus said little Jack,
As he gave it a smack,
And sharpen'd his knife for the job!
While round him a troop,
Formed a clamorous group,
And hail'd him the king of the mob.
With masterly strength
He cut thro' it at length,
And gave to each playmate a share;
Dick, William, and James,
And many more names,
Partook of his benevolent care.
And when it was done,
And they'd finish'd their fun,
To marbles or hoop they went back,
And each little boy
Felt it always a joy
To do a good turn for good Jack.
In his task and his book,
His best pleasures he took,
And as he thus wisely began,
Since he's been a man grown,
He has constantly shown
That a good boy will make a good man.
Ann Taylor
The Great Glutton
'Twas the voice of the glutton,
I heard him complain:
My waistcoat unbutton,
I'll eat once again.
The Glutton
The voice of the glutton
I heard with disdain--
"I've not eaten this hour,
I must eat again;
Oh! give me a pudding,
A pie, or a tart,
A duck or a fowl,
Which I love from my heart.
"How sweet is the picking
Of capon or chicken!
A turkey and chine
Are most charming and fine;
To eat and to drink
All my pleasure is still,
I care not who wants
So that I have my fill."
Oh! let me not be,
Like a glutton, inclined
In feasting my body
And starving my mind,
With moderate viands
Be thankful, and pray
That the Lord may supply me
With food the next day.
Not always a-craving
With hunger still raving;
But little and sweet
Be the food that I eat.
To learning and wisdom
Oh let me apply.
And leave to the glutton
His pudding and pie.
J. Taylor
Selfish Edith
Selfish Edith, not to give
Her sister one, when she has two!
I wouldn't and I couldn't love
A selfish girl like her, could you?
Hear Bessie ask in plaintive tone,
"Please, Edith, let me play with one!"
While naughty Edith shakes her head:
I fear she'll have but little fun
With toys unshared so selfishly;
But when she tires of lonely play,
Perhaps she'll secretly resolve
To be more kind another day.
Hoggish Henry
Oh! Henry eats like any pig;
He drives his mother mad.
She scolds. He does not care a fig,
It's really very sad.
She says: "Your sister, little dear,
Is always clean and neat;
And though she's younger by a year,
How nicely she can eat."
It's all in vain. He does not care;
He's shocking to behold.
The table-cloth and napkin there
Are smeared in every fold.
Upon the floor, crumbs thickly lie,
As though for chickens laid,
Around his mouth and nose, oh fie!
Is dirt of every shade.
He looks, bedaubed with smear and stain,
Just like some savage wild,
His hands as forks are used, it's plain.
For shame! You dirty child!
Selfishness
Look at the selfish man! see how he locks
Tight in his arms his mortgages and stocks!
While deeds and titles in his hand he grasps,
And gold and silver close around he clasps.
But not content with this, behind he drags
A cart well-laden with ponderous bags;
The orphan's wailings, and the widow's woe
From mercy's fountain cause no tears to flow;
He pours no cordial in the wounds of pain;
Unlocks no prison, and unclasps no chain;
His heart is like the rock where sun nor dew
Can rear one plant or flower of heavenly hue.
No thought of mercy there may have its birth,
For helpless misery or suffering worth;
The end of all his life is paltry pelf,
And all his thoughts are centred on--himself:
The wretch of both worlds; for so mean a sum,
First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come.
[Page 66--Lying Land]
Bad Boy having broken a Vase told his Mother that the Dog did it, but
when his Mother was going to beat the poor Innocent Dog he felt sorry,
and told the truth.
Truthful Dottie; Or The Broken Vase
Nellie and Dottie
Both here mamma say,
"Pray from the drawing-room
Keep away.
Don't take your toys there,
Lest someone should call:
Run out in the garden
With rope, bat and ball."
The garden is lovely,
This bright summer day;
But Nellie and Dottie
Too soon came away.
Into the drawing-room
Dottie comes skipping,
With her new rope
All the furniture flipping:
Down goes the tall vase,
So golden and gay,
Smashed all to pieces,
"What will mamma say?"
Cries Nell with her hands raised,
"Oh Dottie, let's run;
They'll think it was pussy,
Who did it in fun."
Dot answers, through big tears,
"But, Nell, don't you see,
Though nobody watched us,
God knows it was me.
Mamma always says,
That, whatever we do,
The harm's not so great,
If we dare to be true.
So I'll go up and tell her
It caught in my rope;
Perhaps she won't scold much,
At least, so I'll hope."
"That's right!" cries her mother,
Who stands by the door,
"I would rather have ten vases
Were smashed on the floor
Than my children should once break
The bright words of truth,
The dearest possession
Of age or of youth.
The vase can be mended,
And scarce show a crack,
But a falsehood once spoken
Will never come back."
However much grieved for
By young folks or old,
An untruth once uttered,
Forever is told.
The Liar Reclaimed
O! 'tis a lovely thing for youth
To walk betimes in wisdom's way;
To fear a lie, to speak the truth,
That we may trust to all they say.
But liars we can never trust,
Tho' they should speak the thing that's true,
And he that does one fault at first,
And lies to hide it, makes it two.
The Truth
Why should you fear the truth to tell?
Does falsehood ever do you so well?
Can you be satisfied to know
There's something wrong to hide below
No! let your fault be what it may,
To own it is the happy way.
So long as you your crime conceal,
You cannot light or gladsome feel;
Your heart will ever feel oppressed,
As if a weight were on your breast:
And e'en your mother's eye to meet
Will tinge your face with shame and heat.
False Alarms
Little Mary one day most loudly did call,
"Mamma! oh, mamma, pray come here!
A fall I have had--oh! a very sad fall."
Mamma ran in haste and in fear;
Then Mary jump'd up, and she laugh'd in great glee,
And cried, "Why, how fast you can run!
No harm has befallen, I assure you, to me,
My screaming was only in fun."
Her mother was busy at work the next day,
She heard from without a loud cry,
"The big dog has got me! O help me! Oh! pray!
He tears me--he bites me--I die!"
Mamma, all in terror, quick to the court
And there little Mary she found;
Who, laughing, said, "Madam, pray how do you do!"
And curtsey'd quite down to the ground.
That night little Mary, when long gone to bed,
Shrill cries and loud shriekings were heard;
"I'm on fire, O mamma, come up or I'm dead!"
Mamma she believ'd not a word.
"Sleep, sleep, naughty child," she call'd out from below,
"How often have I been deceived?
You're telling a story, you very well know:
Go to sleep, for you can't be believed."
Yet still the child scream'd--now the house fill'd with smoke.
That fire is above Jane declares.
Alas! Mary's words they soon found were no joke,
When ev'ryone hastened upstairs.
All burnt and all seam'd is her once pretty face,
And how terribly mark'd are her arms,
Her features all scarr'd, leave a lasting disgrace,
For giving Mamma false alarms.
Adelaide Taylor
To A Little Girl That Has Told A Lie
And has my darling told a lie?
Did she forget that God was by?
That God who saw the thing she did,
From whom no action can be hid;
Did she forget that God could see,
And hear, wherever she might be?
He made you eyes and can discern
Whichever way you think to turn;
He made your ears, and He can hear
When you think nobody is near;
In ev'ry place, by night or day,
He watches all you do and say.
You thought, because you were alone,
Your falsehood never could be known,
But liars always are found out,
Whatever ways they wind about;
And always be afraid, my dear,
To tell a lie,--for God can hear!
I wish, my dear, you'd always try
To act as shall not need a lie;
And when you wish a thing to do,
That has been once forbidden to you,
Remember that, and never dare
To disobey--For God is there!
Why should you fear to tell me true?
Confess, and then I'll pardon you:
Tell me you're sorry, and you'll try
To act the better by and bye,
And then whate'er your crime has been,
It won't be half so great a sin.
But cheerful, innocent, and gay,
As passes by the smiling day,
You'll never have to turn aside,
From any one your faults to hide;
Nor heave a sigh, nor have a fear,
That either God or I should hear.
Ann Taylor
The Blind Man reading to the Deaf and Dumb Man after business hours,
and their wicked Dog looking out.
[Page 67--Laziness Land]
Idle Mary
Oh, Mary, this will never do!
This work is sadly done, my dear,
And such little of it too!
You have not taken pains, I fear.
On no, your work has been forgotten,
Indeed you've hardly thought of that;
I saw you roll your ball of cotton
About the floor to please the cat.
See, here are stitches straggling wide,
And others reaching down so far;
I'm very sure you have not tried
At all to-day to please mamma.
The little girl who will not sew
Should never be allowed to play;
But then I hope, my love, that you
Will take more pains another day.
Lazy Sal
A lazy, lazy, lazy girl!
Her hair forever out of curl,
Her feet unshod, her hands unclean,
Her dress in tatters always seen.
Lounging here and dawdling there,
Lying out 'most anywhere
About the barn-yard. Not a thought
Of studying lessons as she ought;
But happiest when in sunny weather
She and "the other pig" together
Are playing tricks. No wonder, then,
The farmer, jolliest of men,
Is apt to say, when tired out
With seeing her sprawling round about,
"Beats all what ails that lazy gal!
Why, piggy's twice as smart as Sal!"
The Work-bag
To Jane her aunt a work-bag gave,
Of silk with flowers so gay,
That she a place might always have
To put her work away.
And then 'twas furnished quite complete
With cotton, silk and thread,
And needless in a case so neat,
Of all the sizes made.