Slovenly Betsy | Page 2

"We'll scream again.
Make haste, make haste! Me-ow! me-o!
She'll

burn to death--we told her so."
Pauline was burnt with all her clothes,
And arms and hands, and eyes
and nose;
Till she had nothing more to lose
Except her little scarlet
shoes;
And nothing else but these was found
Among her ashes on
the ground.
And when the good cats sat beside
The smoking ashes,
how they cried,
"Me-ow, me-o! Me-ow, me-oo!
What will Mamma
and Nursey do?"
Their tears ran down their cheeks so fast
They
made a little pond at last.
[Illustration]
WHAT HAPPENED TO LAZY CHARLOTTE
"Here, Charlotte," Said Mamma One Day.
"These stockings knit
while I'm away,
And should you fail, be sure you'll find
Mamma is
strict, although she's kind."
[Illustration]
But Charlotte took a lazy fit,
And did not feel inclined to knit;
And
soon upon the ground let fall
Needles, and worsted, hose, and all.
"I
shall not knit," said she, "not I;
At least not now, but by and by;"

Then stretched, and yawned, and rubbed her eyes,
Like sluggards,
when 'tis time to rise.
[Illustration]
But when Mamma came home, and found
The work all strewed upon
the ground,
Quoth she, "You will not knit, and so
To school
barefooted you shall go."
This put poor Charlotte in a fright.
And though she knew it served her
right,
She wept, and begged, and prayed; but still
She could not
change her mother's will.

[Illustration]
To school, where all were spruce and neat,
Poor Charlotte went with
naked feet.
Some showed their pity, some their pride,
While
Charlotte hid her face and cried.
[Illustration]
THE CRY-BABY
"Oh, why are you always so bitterly crying?
You surely will make
yourself blind.
What reason on earth for such sobbing and sighing,
I
pray, can you possibly find?
There is no real sorrow, there's nothing
distressing,
To make you thus grieve and lament.
Ah! no; you are
just at this moment possessing
Whatever should make you content.
[Illustration]
Now do, my dear daughter, give over this weeping,"
Such was a kind
mother's advice.
But all was in vain; for you see she's still keeping

Her handkerchief up to her eyes.
[Illustration]
But now she removes it, and oh! she discloses
A countenance full of
dismay;
For she certainly feels, or at least she supposes
Her
eyesight is going away.
She is not mistaken, her sight is departing;

She knows it and sorrows the more;
Then rubs her sore eyes, to
relieve them from smarting, And makes them still worse than before.
[Illustration]
And now the poor creature is cautiously crawling
And feeling her
way all around;
And now from their sockets her eyeballs are falling;

See, there they are down on the ground.
My children, from such an
example take warning,
And happily live while you may;
And say to

yourselves, when you rise in the morning,
"I'll try to be cheerful
today."
[Illustration]
THE STORY OF ROMPING POLLY
"I pray you now, my little child,"
Thus once a kind old lady
Spoke
to her niece in accents mild,
"Do try to be more steady.
I know that
you will often see
Rude boys push, drive, and hurry;
But little girls
should never be
All in a heat and flurry."
[Illustration]
While thus the lady gave advice
And lectured little Polly,
To see
her stand with downcast eyes,
You'd think she'd owned her folly.

She did, and many a promise made;
But when her aunt departed,

Forgetting all, the silly maid
Off to the playground started.
[Illustration]
Now see what frolic and what fun,
The little folks are after;
Away
they jump, away they run,
With many a shout and laughter.
[Illustration]
But fools who never will be taught,
Except by some disaster,
Soon
find their knowledge dearly bought,
And of a cruel master.
This
little girl, who, spite of all
Her good old aunt had spoken,
Would
romp about, had such a fall
That her poor leg was broken.
[Illustration]
In sore amaze, those standing by
Then placed her on a barrow;
But
oh! to hear her scream and cry
Their souls it sure did harrow.

[Illustration]
See how her brother bursts in tears,
When told the dreadful story;

And see how carefully he bears
The limb all wet and gory.
[Illustration]
Full many a week, screwed up in bed,
She lingered sad and weary;
[Illustration]
And went on crutches, it is said,
Until she died so dreary.
[Illustration]
THE STORY OF A DIRTY CHILD
The little girls whom now you'll see
Were sisters in one family;

And both enjoyed an equal share
Of a kind mother's anxious care.

This one in neatness took a pride,
And oft the brush and comb
applied;
[Illustration]
Oft washed her face, and oft her hands;
See, now, thus occupied she
stands.
[Illustration]
The other--oh! I grieve to say
How she would scream and run away,

Soon as she saw her mother stand,
With water by, and sponge in
hand.
She'd kick and stamp, and jump about,
And set up such an
awful shout,
That one who did not know the child,
Would say she
must be going wild.
[Illustration]

In consequence it came to pass,
While one was quite a pretty lass,

And many a fond admirer gained,
And many a little gift obtained;
[Illustration]
The other, viewed with general scorn,
Was left forsaken and forlorn;

For no one can endure to see
A child all dirt