Mrs. Turner's Cautionary Stories Part 9

POISONOUS FRUIT

As Tommy and his sister Jane Were walking down a shady lane, They saw some berries, bright and red, That hung around and overhead;

And soon the bough they bended down, To make the scarlet fruit their own; And part they ate, and part, in play, They threw about, and flung away.

But long they had not been at home Before poor Jane and little Tom Were taken sick, and ill, to bed, And since, I've heard, they both are dead.

Alas! had Tommy understood That fruit in lanes is seldom good, He might have walked with little Jane Again along the shady lane.

HARRY'S CAKE

"Betty, attend to what I say, This is my little boy's birth-day; Some sugar-plums and citron take, And send to school a large plum-cake."

"That, madam, I will gladly do; Harry's so good and clever too: So let me have some wine and spice.

For I would make it very nice."

When it arriv'd, the little boy Laugh'd, sang, and jump'd about for joy; But, ah! how griev'd I am to say, He did not give a bit away.

He _ate_, and _ate_, and _ate_ his fill, No wonder that it made him ill; Pain in his stomach and his head Oblig'd him soon to go to bed.

Oh! long he lay, and griev'd the while, Order'd by Dr. Camomile Such physic, and so much to take, He now can't bear the name of cake.

PETER'S CAKE

Peter Careful had a cake Which his kind mamma did bake; Of b.u.t.ter, eggs, and currants made, And sent to Peter--_carriage paid_.

"Now," said Peter, "they shall see, Wiser than Harry I will be; For I will keep my cake in store, And that will make it last the more."

He, like Harry (sad to say), Did not give a bit away, But, miser-like, the cake he locks With all his playthings in his box.

And sometimes silently he'd go, When all he thought engag'd below, To eat a _very little_ piece, For fear his treasure should decrease.

When next he went (it makes me laugh) He found the mice had eaten half, And what remain'd, though once a treat, So mouldy, 'twas not fit to eat.

WILLIAM'S CAKE

Young William Goodchild was a boy Who lov'd to give his playmates joy; And when his mother sent _his_ cake, Rejoic'd for his companions' sake.

"Come round," he cried, "each take a slice, Each have his proper share of ice; We'll eat it up among us, here: My birth-day comes but once a year."

A poor blind man, who came that way, His violin began to play; But though he play'd, he did not speak, And tears ran slowly down his cheek.

"What makes you weep?" young William cried.

"I'm poor and hungry," he replied, "For food and home I'm forced to play, But I have eaten nought to-day."

"Poor man!" said William, "half my share Remains, which I will gladly spare; I wish 'twas larger for your sake, So take this penny and the cake."

I need not ask each youthful breast Which of these boys you like the best; Let goodness, then, incitement prove, And imitate the boy you love.

HOW TO MAKE A CHRISTMAS PUDDING

Now, little Sophy, come with me, To make a pudding you shall see; Now sit quite still, and see me do it; See, here's the flour and the suet.

The suet must be chopped quite small, For it should scarce be seen at all; A pound of each will nicely suit, To which I put two pounds of fruit.

One is of currants, one of plums (You'll find it good when boiled it comes); Then almonds, sugar, citron, spice, And peel, will make it very nice.

Now see me stir and mix it well, And then we'll leave the rest to Nell; Now see, the pudding-cloth she flours, Ties it, and boils it full five hours.

THE END