Struwwelpeter: Merry Tales and Funny Pictures | Page 2

wooden hoop with him;
And Arthur, too, snatched up his toys
And
joined the other naughty boys.
So, one and all set up a roar,
And
laughed and hooted more and more,
And kept on singing,--only
think!--
"Oh, Blacky, you're as black as ink!"
Now tall Agrippa lived close by--
So tall, he almost touched the sky;

He had a mighty inkstand, too,
In which a great goose-feather grew;

He called out in an angry tone
"Boys, leave the Black-a-moor
alone!
For, if he tries with all his might,
He cannot change from
black to white."
But, ah! they did not mind a bit
What great
Agrippa said of it;
But went on laughing, as before,
And hooting at
the Black-a-moor.
Then great Agrippa foams with rage--
Look at him on this very page!

He seizes Arthur, seizes Ned,

Takes William by his little head;

And they may scream and kick and call,
Into the ink he dips them all;

Into the inkstand, one, two, three,
Till they are black as black can
be;
Turn over now, and you shall see.
See, there they are, and there they run!
The Black-a-moor enjoys the
fun.
They have been made as black as crows,
Quite black all over,
eyes and nose,
And legs, and arms, and heads, and toes,
And
trousers, pinafores, and toys--
The silly little inky boys!
Because
they set up such a roar,
And teased the harmless Black-a-moor.
The Story of the Man that went out Shooting
This is the man that shoots the hares;
This is the coat he always wears:

With game-bag, powder-horn, and gun
He's going out to have
some fun.
He finds it hard, without a pair
Of spectacles, to shoot the hare.
The
hare sits snug in leaves and grass,
And laughs to see the green man
pass.
Now, as the sun grew very hot,
And he a heavy gun had got,
He lay
down underneath a tree
And went to sleep, as you may see.
And,
while he slept like any top,
The little hare came, hop, hop, hop,

Took gun and spectacles, and then
On her hind legs went off again.
The green man wakes and sees her place
The spectacles upon her face;

And now she's trying all she can
To shoot the sleepy, green-coat
man.
He cries and screams and runs away;
The hare runs after him
all day
And hears him call out everywhere:
"Help! Fire! Help! The
Hare! The Hare!"
At last he stumbled at the well,
Head over ears, and in he fell.
The
hare stopped short, took aim and, hark!
Bang went the gun--she
missed her mark!

The poor man's wife was drinking up
Her coffee in her coffee-cup;

The gun shot cup and saucer through;
"Oh dear!" cried she; "what
shall I do?"
There lived close by the cottage there
The hare's own
child, the little hare;
And while she stood upon her toes,
The coffee
fell and burned her nose.
"Oh dear!" she cried, with spoon in hand,

"Such fun I do not understand."
The Story of Little Suck-a-Thumb
One day Mamma said "Conrad dear,
I must go out and leave you here.

But mind now, Conrad, what I say,
Don't suck your thumb while
I'm away.
The great tall tailor always comes
To little boys who
suck their thumbs;
And ere they dream what he's about,
He takes
his great sharp scissors out,
And cuts their thumbs clean off--and then,

You know, they never grow again."
Mamma had scarcely turned her back,
The thumb was in, Alack!
Alack!
The door flew open, in he ran,
The great, long, red-legged
scissor-man.
Oh! children, see! the tailor's come
And caught out
little Suck-a-Thumb.
Snip! Snap! Snip! the scissors go;
And Conrad
cries out "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
Snip! Snap! Snip! They go so fast,
That
both his thumbs are off at last.
Mamma comes home: there Conrad stands,
And looks quite sad, and
shows his hands;
"Ah!" said Mamma, "I knew he'd come
To
naughty little Suck-a-Thumb."
The Story of Augustus
who would not have any Soup
Augustus was a chubby lad;
Fat ruddy cheeks Augustus had:
And
everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty, healthy boy.
He ate
and drank as he was told,
And never let his soup get cold.
But one
day, one cold winter's day,
He screamed out "Take the soup away!


O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup today."
Next day, now look, the picture shows
How lank and lean Augustus
grows!
Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,
The naughty fellow
cries out still
"Not any soup for me, I say:
O take the nasty soup
away!
I _won't_ have any soup today."
The third day comes: Oh what a sin!
To make himself so pale and
thin.
Yet, when the soup is put on table,
He screams, as loud as he
is able,
"Not any soup for me, I say:
O take the nasty soup away!
I
WON'T have any soup today."
Look at him, now the fourth day's come!
He scarcely weighs a
sugar-plum;
He's like a little bit of thread,
And, on the fifth day, he
was--dead!
The Story of Fidgety Philip
"Let me see if Philip can
Be a little gentleman;
Let me see if he is
able
To sit still for once at table":
Thus Papa bade Phil behave;

And Mamma looked very grave.
But fidgety Phil,
He won't sit still;

He wriggles,
And giggles,
And then, I declare,
Swings
backwards