Cole's Funny Picture Book No. 1
I sent him to the cellar to draw a pot of beer,
He came up again and said there was none there.
Little Dog Buff
I had a little Dog, and they called him buff,
I sent him to the shop for a hap'orth of snuff;
But he lost the bag and spilled the snuff.
So take that cuff, and that's enough.
Dog Burnt his Tail
Ding, dong, darrow,
The cat and the sparrow;
The little dog has burnt his tail,
And he shall be hang'd to-morrow.
Thievish dog Fan
Thievish dog Fan, to yell aloud began,
She burnt her mouth through stealing tripe:
Thievish dog Fan.
The Quarrelsome Dogs
Old Tray and rough Growler are having a fight,
So let us get out of their way;
They snarl, and they growl, and they bite,
Oh dear, what a terrible fray!
Good Little Dog
I will not hurt my little dog,
But stroke and pat his head;
I like to see him wag his tail,
I like to see him fed.
Poor little thing, how very good,
And very useful too.
For don't you know that he will mind
What he is bid to do?
Then I will never hurt my dog,
Nor ever give him pain;
But treat him kindly every day,
And he'll love me again.
Puss And Rover
Our Pussy she is white,
Our Rover he is black,
And yet he licks Pussy's face
While she stands on his back.
Our Pussy she is little,
Our Rover he is big,
And yet he likes the Pussy
Much better than the pig.
Our Pussy she is young,
And Rover he is old,
And yet he likes the Pussy
More than tons of gold.
Our Pussy she is good,
And so is Rover too,
So Pussy says, "Ta, ta." "Good-bye,"
And Rover says "Adieu."
Don't Tease Dogs
Foolish Edward runs away,
From the large dog with the bone;
If we do not tease or chide,
Dogs will leave us quite alone.
No Breakfast for Growler
No, naughty Growler, get away,
You shall not have a bit;
Now when I speak, how dare you stay?
I can't spare any, Sir, I say,
And so you need not sit.
Poor Growler! do not make him go,
But recollect, before,
That he has never served you so,
For you have given him many a blow,
That patiently he bore.
Poor growler! if he could but speak,
He'd tell (as well as he might)
How he would bear with many a freak,
And wag his tail, and look so meek,
And neither bark nor bite.
Upon his back he lets you ride,
All round and round the yard;
And now, while sitting by your side,
To have a bit of bread denied,
Is really very hard.
And all your little tricks he'll bear,
And never seem to mind;
And yet you say you cannot spare
One bit of breakfast for his share,
Although he is so kind.
Good Dog Tray
Good Dog Tray
Watched Tommy t'other day,
In the garden fast asleep:
Good Dog Tray.
Poor Old Tray
See, here is poor old Tray;
Good dog to run so fast,
To meet my sister May and me,
Now school is o'er at last.
Oh! how I love you, Tray,
You are so kind to me;
You run beside me in my walks,
You sit by me at tea.
'Tis true that I give you bits
Of cake and bread and meat;
But I'm sure you'd love as well
If you had nought to eat.
For faithful, true, and kind
Is our old darling Tray;
He guards our dwelling all the night,
And plays with us by day.
Doggy minds the House
"Come hither, little puppy dog,
I'll give you a nice new collar,
If you will learn to read your book
And be a clever scholar."
"No, no!" replied the puppy dog,
"I've other fish to fry,
"For I must learn to guard your house,
And bark when thieves come nigh."
[Page 164--Goat Land]
O'Grady's Goat
O'Grady lived in shanty row,
The neighbours often said
They wished that Tim would move away
Or that his goat was dead.
He kept the neighbourhood in fear,
And the children always vexed;
They couldn't tell jist whin or where
The goat would pop up nexht.
Ould Missis Casey stood wan day
The dirty clothes to rub
Upon the washboard, when she dived
Head foremost o'er the tub;
She lit upon her back an' yelled,
As she was lying flat:
"Go git your goon an' kill the bashte."
O'Grady's goat did that.
Pat Doolan's woife hung out the wash,
Upon the line to dry.
She wint to take it in at night,
But stopped to have a cry.
The sleeves av two red flannel shirts,
Tat once was worn by Pat,
Were chewed off almost to the neck.
O'Grady's goat doon that.
They had a party at McCune's,
And they were having foon,
Whin suddinly there was a crash
An' ivrybody roon.
The iseter soup fell on the floor
An' nearly drowned the cat;
The stove was knocked to smithereens.
O'Grady's goat doon that.
O'Hoolerhan brought home a keg
Ave dannymite wan day
To blow a cistern in his yard
An' hid the stuff away.
But suddinly an airthquake coom,
O'Hoolerhan, house an' hat,
And ivrything in sight wint up,
O'Grady's goat doon that.
Will S. Hays
The Goat and the Swing
A little story with a moral
For the young folks who are prone to quarrel.
Old folks are wise, and do not need it,
Of course they, therefore, will not read it.
A vicious goat, one day, had found
His way into forbidden ground
When coming to the garden-swing,
He spied a most prodigious thing,--
A ram, a monster, to his mind,
With head before and head behind!
Its shape was odd--no hoofs were seen,
But, without legs, it stood between
Two uprights, lofty posts of oak,
With forehead ready for a stroke.
Though but a harmless ornament
Carved of the seat, it seemed intent
On barring the intruder's way;
While he, advancing, seemed to say,
"Who is this surly fellow here,
Two heads, no tail--it's mighty queer!
A most insulting countenance!"
With stamp of foot and angry glance
He curbed he threatening neck and stood
Before the passive thing of wood.
"You winked as I was going by!
You did not? What! tell me I lie?
Take that!" And at the swing he sprung.
A sounding thump! It backward swung,
And set in motion by the blow,
Swayed menacingly to and fro.
"Ha! you will fight! A quarrelsome chap,
I knew you were! You'll get a rap!
I'll crack your skull!" A headlong jump;
Another and a louder bump!
The swing, as with kindling wrath,
Came rushing back along the path.
The goat, astonished, shook his head,
Winked hard, turned round, grew mad, and said,
"Villain! I'll teach you who I am!"
(Or seemed to say,)--"you rascal ram,
To pick a fight with me, when I
So quietly am passing by!
Your head or mine!" A thundering stroke--
The cracking horns met crashing oak!
Then came a dull and muffled sound,
And something rolled along the ground,
Got up, looked sad--appeared to say,
"Your head's too hard!"--and limped away
Quite humbly, in a rumpled coat--
A dustier and a wiser goat!
J. T. Throwbridge
[Page 165--Monkey Land]
The Adventures of Meddlesome "Jacko"
These pictures we hope
Will our little folks please,
And also to each one
This moral convey:
"Be contented and happy,
Whatever your lot,
And don't try, as some do,
To have your own way."
Master Jacko, you see,
Had a very snug home,
With plenty to eat
That was wholesome and good;
But still he did not,
We are sorry to say,
Behave in a way
That a pet monkey should.
For one day he said,
"Come, I don't like at all
The life that I lead,
And I cannot see why
I should not live just
As my own master does;
This chain is not strong,
Can I break it? I'll try."
After some little time
Jacko snapped it in two;
Said he to himself,
"Well, now where shall I go?
To the larder, I think;
For my appetite's good,
And I'm sure to find
Something to eat there, I know."
He entered, and as he
Was looking about
A lobster just brought
From the shop seized his tail,
And pinched him, and nipped him,
Until our young friend
Jumped about, and set up
A most piteous wail.
Next he went to the kitchen,
And there he espied
A bottle of something--
"Ha, ha, I must taste!"
But he found it was curry,
Which burnt his poor throat,
So he let drop the bottle,
And he ran off in haste.
To the dining-room the
He repaired, and he said,
"Into master's tea-pot
The hot water I'll pour;"
But he upset the kettle,
And scalded himself,
And loudly screamed out
As he rolled on the floor.
Quoth Jacko, "the house
Doesn't suit me at all,
I had better go back
To the garden again,
And gather some peaches,
Or grapes, or some plums,
And try to forget
All my trouble and pain."
In the corner the rogue
Saw a bee-hive--"Why, here
Must be honey! Delicious!"
Said he; "Just the thing!"
So he put in his hand,
But he brought out the bees,
And they punished poor Jacko
With many a sting.
Pinched, scalded, and stung,
To his home he returned.
Reasoned he, "My past folly
I shall not regret;
For I'm sure the misfortunes
I've gone through to-day
Have taught me a lesson
I ne'er shall forget."
A Fruitless Sorrow
A little monkey,
Dusky, ugly, sad,
Sat hopeless, curled
Within his narrow cage;
Dark was the stifling room,
No joy he had;
The sick air rang
With tones of pain and rage.
From many a prisoned
Creature held for sale,
Stolen from the happy
Freedom of its life:
Dull drooping birds,
That uttered shriek and wail,
And beast and reptile
Full of woe and strife.
Into the place
A cheerful presence came,
And kind eyes lighted
On the monkey small;
Straightway the weary
World was not the same
Such fortune did
The little thing befall.
Safe in a basket
Fastened, he was sent
Across the city,
Trembling and afraid.
But once he saw his new home,
What sweet content
Was his, while petted
And caressed, he played.
A week of bliss,
Alas! that it should end!
He had forgotten
Darkness, pain, and all;
But there were monkeys
Finer than our friend,
His master's eyes
On such a one must fall!
So fate had ordered,
And the frisky sprite,
Dun-coloured, grey,
And streaked with cinnamon,
Born in far bright Brazil,
Was bought at sight,
And all the first
Poor pet's fortune won.
They brought into
The bright and cheerful room
The basket small
In which he had been borne
To such a happy life.
He saw his doom
At once, the misery
Of his lot forlorn.
The moment that
The basket met his sight,
He dropped his head,
And hid his sorrowing eyes
Against his arm,
Nor looked to left nor right,
As any thinking
Human creature wise.
They took him back
Into his noisome den,
His tiny face
Concealed as if he wept,
So helpless to resist.
Heroic men
Might such despairing
Patient calm have kept.
Poor little thing!
And if he lingers yet,
Or death has ended
Life so hard to bear
I know not;
But I never can forget
His brief rejoicing
And his mute despair.
[Page 166--Gee Gee Land]