Part 3

"I wish," said he (but wishing's vain), "I had my money back again, And had not spent my last, to pay For what I only threw away.

"Another time I'll take advice, And not buy things because they're nice; But rather save my little store, To give to those who want it more."

THE HOLIDAYS.

"Ah! don't you remember, 'tis almost December, And soon will the holidays come; Oh, 'twill be so funny, I've plenty of money, I'll buy me a sword and a drum."

Thus said little Harry, unwilling to tarry, Impatient from school to depart; But we shall discover, this holiday lover Knew little what was in his heart.

For when on returning, he gave up his learning, Away from his sums and his books, Though playthings surrounded, and sweetmeats abounded, Chagrin still appear'd in his looks.

Though first they delighted, his toys were now slighted, And thrown away out of his sight; He spent every morning in stretching and yawning, Yet went to bed weary at night.

He had not that treasure which really makes pleasure, (A secret discover'd by few). You'll take it for granted, more playthings he wanted; Oh no--it was something to do.

We must have employment to give us enjoyment And pass the time cheerfully away; And study and reading give pleasure, exceeding The pleasures of toys and of play.

To school now returning--to study and learning With eagerness Harry applied; He felt no aversion to books or exertion, Nor yet for the holidays sigh'd.

THE VILLAGE GREEN.

On the cheerful village green, Skirted round with houses small, All the boys and girls are seen, Playing there with hoop and ball.

Now they frolic hand in hand, Making many a merry chain; Then they form a warlike band, Marching o'er the level plain.

Now ascends the worsted ball, High it rises in the air, Or against the cottage wall, Up and down it bounces there.

Then the hoop, with even pace, Runs before the merry throngs; Joy is seen in every face, Joy is heard in cheerful songs.

Rich array, and mansions proud, Gilded toys, and costly fare, Would not make the little crowd Half so happy as they are.

Then, contented with my state, Where true pleasure may be seen Let me envy not the great, On a cheerful village green.

MISCHIEF.

Let those who're fond of idle tricks, Of throwing stones, and hurling bricks, And all that sort of fun, Now hear a tale of idle Jim, That warning they may take by him, Nor do as he has done.

In harmless sport or healthful play He did not pass his time away, Nor took his pleasure in it; For mischief was his only joy: No book, or work, or even toy, Could please him for a minute.

A neighbour's house he'd slyly pass, And throw a stone to break the glass, And then enjoy the joke! Or, if a window open stood, He'd throw in stones, or bits of wood, To frighten all the folk.

If travellers passing chanced to stay, Of idle Jim to ask the way, He never told them right; And then, quite harden'd in his sin, Rejoiced to see them taken in, And laugh'd with all his might.

He'd tie a string across the street, Just to entangle people's feet, And make them tumble down: Indeed, he was disliked so much, That no good boy would play with such A nuisance to the town.

At last the neighbours, in despair, This mischief would no longer bear: And so--to end the tale, This lad, to cure him of his ways, Was sent to spend some dismal days Within the county jail.

ABOUT THE LITTLE GIRL THAT BEAT HER SISTER.

Go, go, my naughty girl, and kiss Your little sister dear; I must not have such things as this, And noisy quarrels here.

What! little children scratch and fight, That ought to be so mild; Oh! Mary, it's a shocking sight To see an angry child.

I can't imagine, for my part, The reason of your folly; She did not do you any hurt By playing with your dolly.

See, see, the little tears that run Fast from her watery eye: Come, my sweet innocent, have done, 'Twill do no good to cry.

Go, Mary, wipe her tears away, And make it up with kisses: And never turn a pretty play To such a pet as this is.

THE APPLE-TREE.

Old John had an apple-tree, healthy and green, Which bore the best codlins that ever were seen, So juicy, so mellow, and red; And when they were ripe, he disposed of his store, To children or any who pass'd by his door, To buy him a morsel of bread.

Little Dick, his next neighbour, one often might see, With longing eye viewing this fine apple-tree, And wishing a codlin might fall: One day as he stood in the heat of the sun, He began thinking whether he might not take one, And then he look'd over the wall.

And as he again cast his eye on the tree, He said to himself, "Oh, how nice they would be, So cool and refreshing to-day! The tree is so full, and one only I'll take, And John cannot see if I give it a shake, And nobody is in the way."

But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough, Remember, though John cannot see you just now, And no one to chide you is nigh, There is One, who by night, just as well as by day, Can see all you do, and can hear all you say, From his glorious throne in the sky.

O then little boy, come away from the tree, Lest tempted to this wicked act you should be: 'Twere better to starve than to steal; For the great GOD, who even through darkness can look, Writes down every crime we commit, in His book; Nor forgets what we try to conceal.

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Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 10, blank line placed before the stanza beginning (Come, walk in our garden)