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diff --git a/76648-0.txt b/76648-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a80ac9 --- /dev/null +++ b/76648-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,907 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76648 *** + + + + + + THE + INFANT MORALIST + + BY + LADY HELENA CARNEGIE + AND + MRS ARTHUR JACOB + + + EDINBURGH + R. GRANT & SON, 107 PRINCES STREET + LONDON: R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON + 1903 + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + CRUELTY TO ANIMALS + + + How, George! you’re in Disgrace once more, + What’s this? a tearful Eye, + The tell-tale Feathers on the Floor, + Show me the Reason why. + + Why did you free Amelia’s Bird + Where Harriet’s Tabby pounced? + You selfish Boy, upon my Word + I’ll have you soundly trounced. + + Your little Cousin’s Tears now see: + Her pretty Songster’s dead; + A Child so mischievous must be + Chastis’d, and sent to Bed. + + + + + INSENSATE MISCHIEF + + + What a Commotion in the Town! + Now has the Steeple fallen down? + Some strange Event occurr’d? + Fresh Tidings of the War in France, + Or News of dire Import, perchance, + The Mayor may have heard. + See how the People run and point! + The Butcher, laden with a Joint, + Is brandishing his Knife; + The Chandler, with a Pot of Lard, + In tumbling from the Farrier’s Yard, + Upsets the Baker’s Wife. + The Parson hurries up the Street, + His Shoes half on, half off his Feet, + His Surplice flies behind, + And knocking ’gainst the Apple Stall, + Of Widow Clarke, the Apples fall, + He does not seem to mind! + Here comes the Guardian of the Laws! + Pray, tell us, Officer, the Cause + Of this tumultuous Scene? + Why, I declare, the Reason’s found, + ’Tis Master Percy, I’ll be bound, + At Mischief who has been. + How say you? that an Hour too Fast + He set the Town Hall Clock; and last, + On further Mischief bent, + Upon the Belfry Tower he climbed + And all the Bells he loudly chimed + Confusion to augment. + But Retribution’s fatal Sword + No long Delay will e’er afford + And soon did Percy smite. + His Footing slipp’d, some Time he hung + To treach’rous Roofs, but vainly clung + And fell a giddy Height. + And now upon a Couch of Pain + He lies with shattered Bones and Brain; + But, Pity tho’ we feel, + We all should strive to realise + That those whose Actions are not Wise + From Fate have no Appeal. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + CHARITABLE LOUISA + + + Now Goody Brown and Widow Bond + Live in a Cottage near the Pond, + And so, Louisa, you + Must now this little Basket take + And put in it a Loaf, a Cake, + A Pound of Sugar too. + + Nay! do not frown, ’tis surely good + That we the Agêd succour should? + Your Shawl and Bonnet don, + See, with you faithful Ponto comes, + Perhaps a liking for the Crumbs + Has urg’d him to go on. + + So onward trips the little Maid, + All smiling sweet, and unafraid + Of Gipsies, Tramps and Cows. + Then back she comes, while Goody stands + And raising up her wither’d Hands + Calls down her Prayers and Vows. + + + + + CREDULITY + + + What Consternation fills the Hall! + Young Master Frank is miss’d; + All Day for him they seek and call + Nor through the Night desist. + + Repeatedly had Frank been warned + The Gipsies’ Camp to shun, + For Truth and Cleanliness they scorned + And left good Deeds undone. + + Alas for Frank! the Gipsy Queen + Had met him by the Stile, + With Tales of Fortune she’d foreseen + She did the Youth beguile. + + “I’ll crown you King, and you shall ride + In golden Coach,” said she, + “You’ll ne’er repent if you decide + To follow Gipsy Lee.” + + The foolish boy went off to roam + In search of Wealth and Fame, + And all forgot were Friends and Home + To his eternal Shame. + + And now with limping Feet he toils + Behind the Caravans, + With Tinker’s Tools his Hand he soils + And sells both Pots and Pans. + + His Parents fond their Son with Tears + Distractedly deplore: + They sought him o’er the World for Years, + But saw him nevermore. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + THE CONSEQUENCES OF GREED + + + Why, Edward! why this Cry of Pain? + This Jacket all besmirched? + Your strict Papa I’ll call again + And have you soundly birched. + + This pastry, that indulgent Cook + Had filled for you with Jam, + With hasty Greed, and envious Look + You down your Throat did cram. + + Now Gluttons! pray attend to me: + I’ll send for Doctor Bell, + A Child with Appetite too free + He always doses well. + + + + + PROFANITY + + + A Sailor of the name of Park + Gave Nurse a Parrot gay; + I think I heard the Man remark + It came from Paraguay. + + How strange a Sight in distant Lands, + Where Wonders meet the Eye, + To see the Works of Nature’s Hands + From ev’ry Tree-top fly. + + But Oh! with Shame and Sorrow both, + I scarce can lisp the Tale, + Its brutal Jest and hideous Oath + My infant Cheek turn’d pale. + + Alas! when all is bright and fair + That Wickedness should lurk, + Those sinful Words that filled the Air + Were Man’s ignoble work. + + Nurse screamed aloud, the Sailor ran, + The Bird spoke yet more plain; + Oh! how I hope the shameless Man + Will not come back again. + + How very careful we should be + ’Mong those alone to move + Who shunning, fly Profanity, + And who our Hearts approve. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + ENVY + + + Why, Ellen, such a pouting Face + Is quite against the Rule: + I fear you have incurr’d Disgrace, + Or done amiss at School. + + What! Lucy Elton’s rich Pelisse + Your envious Thoughts inspire? + And Fanny Jones disturbs your Peace + When dress’d in gay Attire? + + You foolish Child, did you but know + The Way their Wealth was gained + Your Cheeks with honest Shame would glow + While youthful Life remained. + + For Lucy’s Father robb’d a Bank, + And Fanny’s Sire a Church: + Far from such Wealth you Heav’n may thank + Your Name can None besmirch. + + + + + THE SCHOOL FEAST + + + Now Lady Emma at the Grange + A School Feast has at Heart, + And very kindly does arrange + That we shall all take Part. + + Maria, to avert the Cold, + Her velvet Spencer wears, + And little Jane, of five Years old, + A Sun-shade gravely bears. + + Edward, and Charles, and Sister Fan + In Joy their Accents raise, + And William Fry, the Garden man, + Puts Dobbin in the Chaise. + + Papa assumes the Reins’ control, + Mama her Shawl, and so + Crack goes the Whip, the Wheels they roll, + And now, away we go! + + How happy we, with Parents kind + And Clothes so clean and neat: + Oh! may we always bear in Mind + ’Twas Virtue earn’d this Treat. + + + + + COURAGE + + + Mervyn and Charles and little Ann + Rose early from their Rest; + Who should be First, as out they ran, + They joyfully contest. + + Mervyn was Senior by one Year + To Charles, whose Summers six + Exceeded Ann’s, it would appear, + By Two, and Seven Weeks. + + Among the Flowers that smell so sweet + They pluck’d a Posy gay, + To give Mama a pleasant Treat + Upon her Natal Day. + +[Illustration] + + But oh! from off a blooming Rose + Ann gather’d with Delight, + A cruel Wasp upon her Nose + Did suddenly alight. + + She loudly scream’d, and Mervyn seiz’d + The Insect in his Clasp, + Nor loosed his Hold ere it was squeez’d + And crush’d within his Grasp. + + Though painful Stings his Hand inflam’d + He did not Cry nor Quail, + And kind Mama with Pride exclaim’d + When Charles told her the Tale. + + Such Youths grow up as Soldiers brave, + Or Sailors bold and free; + And thus Britannia’s Flag shall wave + Supreme on every Sea. + + + + + HEARTLESS FOLLY + + + Pray, Richard, do you think it right + To act as you did Tuesday Night + And make of Age a Mock? + The Admiral, whose Legs you tied + Whilst he was sitting by my side, + Is indisposed from Shock. + + As he fell prone upon the Floor + I saw you spying through the Door + With pert and shameless Smile; + His Daughters kind, who tend his Couch, + With one accord do freely vouch + They marked your Purpose vile. + + E’en barbarous Turk or Cariboo, + Or poor idolatrous Hindoo + Before such Act would pause; + What should you feel if Admiral Bligh + Were taken from us to the Sky + And you should be the Cause? + + Oh! wretched Boy, Elisha’s Bears + May even now be on the Stairs + Your Punishment to give: + For those the Aged who offend + Are like to come to fearful End, + Or else in Chains to live. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + POLITENESS + + + What! do I apprehend aright, + My Boy, my Herbert impolite? + Oh say! oh say not so. + I did not see you doff your Hat + To Lady Charlotte Merton, that + Is not genteel you know. + + See how polite young Frankie hies + To ope the Door for General Wyse, + And take from him his Cane. + In later times, when Frank’s extoll’d, + Your Manner, deemed uncouth and bold, + Will give you bitter Pain. + + + + + THE RESULT OF HEEDLESSNESS + + + Behold that speechless, aged Dame + Who totters on the Arm + Of Thomas Brown, his sturdy Frame + Supporting her from Harm. + + Sad is the Tale that I must tell, + The Cause that struck her Dumb, + For to the Shock which her befell + She nearly did succumb. + + Her Nephew Paul a little Mouse + Within the Barn had caught, + And in his Pocket to the House + The tiny Creature brought. + + How wrong was Paul, for with Dismay + His Aunt a Rodent viewed, + How wickedly did he repay + Her Kindness oft renewed. + + The Work Box on the Table stood, + He quickly rais’d the Lid, + And ’mongst the Silks it did include + The Mouse securely hid. + + She oped the Box, her Pins to seek, + Out sprang the nimble Mouse, + Oh Mercy! what a dreadful Shriek + Resounded through the House. + + Twas her last Cry, for ne’er again + Aunt Fanny’s Voice was heard: + Depriv’d was she, by Shock and Pain, + Of Pow’r to speak a Word. + + Paul’s Penitence was no avail, + The horrid Deed was done, + Though Good might through his Life prevail, + With Wrong it was begun. + + How dread to think the Innocent + Must suffer for his Crime: + Mark how each Fault, though we repent, + Bears Consequence through Time. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + LAWLESS DISRESPECT + + + Come, James, you well deserve the Cane, + Your Acts my Ire have gained, + To frown I am obliged again + And dear Mama is pained. + + That you to such a Deed should stoop, + And impiously should dare + At Auntie’s Legs to bowl your Hoop + And hurl her through the Air. + + That Lawlessness should stalk abroad + Offends each righteous Heart, + And Children, till Respect’s restor’d, + Must very rightly smart. + + + + + INEVITABLE RETRIBUTION + + + “It is a Shame,” said Albert Gore, + “That I my Top may spin no more, + But to my Book must go; + Whilst James, although the Clock strikes Three, + Still plies his Marbles busily + With Uncle’s Gardener, Joe.” + + “Nay, quit your Sport, your Hand refrain,” + Cried the Preceptor once again; + But, oh! to tell I grieve + That Albert, when he turn’d his Face, + Made so repellent a Grimace + That you would scarce believe. + + And ah! the Wind, at Heav’n’s behest + Changed from the East into the West, + Alas! for Albert Gore, + His Countenance, his glaring Eye, + His Nose outspread, his Mouth awry + Were set to turn no more. + + Oh! what a Warning this should be + For every little Child to see, + For all from Albert run. + The Author of his own Disgrace, + He weeps to think how wry a Face + He’ll wear till Life is done. + + + + + REVENGE + + + When Ferdinand was sent to School + It was his great delight + To pause and plague the Village Fool + ’Gainst whom he had a Spite. + + The poor afflicted Creature dwelt + Alone, hard by a Wood, + Forlorn and desolate he felt, + Oft destitute of Food. + + But Ferdinand for him could feel + No gentle Pity flow, + Nor from his daily plenteous Meal + Would e’en one Crumb bestow. + +[Illustration] + + From Vanity came all the Blame: + How oft we may remark + What fiercely burning Faults will flame + From one small sinful Spark. + + One Sunday morning it had chanced, + As to the Church he went, + That Ferdinand around had glanced + On Admiration bent. + + His Vest was frill’d, his Jacket too + In Fashion’s last Conceit, + His Nankeen Pants, of yellow hue, + Scarce reach’d his Slippers neat. + + A tassell’d Cane swung in his Hand, + He strutted proudly by, + His whole Demeanour a Demand + For Wonder’s envious Eye. + + But oh! what Rage possess’d his Heart + When laughter caught his Ear, + What Pangs of Anger, like a Dart, + Pierc’d him at every Jeer. + + What did he see? with mincing Tread + The Idiot walked behind, + And aped his Gestures, wagged his Head + And smiled with vacant Mind. + + A clumsy Bludgeon took the place + Of Ferdinand’s smart Cane, + And pert young Master’s easy Grace + The poor Fool tried to feign. + + Though Weeks had pass’d, and all should strive + Offences to forget, + Ferdinand’s Soul could but derive + Fresh Cause to fume and fret. + + An evil Thought one Morning leapt + Into his jaundic’d Mind, + And with a Saw he stealthy crept + To where the Stream did wind. + + And through and through he sawed the Plank + That bridg’d the Waters’ play, + Then ’neath a Bush upon the Bank + Concealed and still he lay. + + The Idiot came, he took one Stride, + Fell through, and Heels o’er Head + He sank, and loud for Help he cried, + But guilty Ferd’nand fled. + + Now had the wicked Boy returned + And straight confest his Crime + The guilt of Murder, he had learned, + Had not been his this Time. + + Attracted by the Idiot’s Roars, + At his sad Plight appalled, + His dripping Body to the Shores + A Passer-by had hauled. + + But Ferdinand ran off to Sea + And fought great Bonaparte; + He perish’d soon, by Fate’s Decree, + And broke his Mother’s Heart. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + UNSUITABLE JESTING + + + It grieves me, Emma, much to see + How Pert and Rude you are; + Sure, everybody must agree + From Courtesy you’re far. + + What wicked Rudeness thus to jest + On Mister Barton’s Toes: + Poor Gentleman, he’s Uncle’s Guest, + And Gout gives painful Throes. + + How very ill does it beseem + A Child to play such Part: + The Prisons of the World do teem + With those of unkind Heart. + + + + + THE CHATTERBOX + + + I needs must beg you, Caroline, + To cease your Chatter whilst I dine, + It deafens every Ear. + John Footman cannot hear my Words, + And I have asked him twice for Curds + And still he cannot hear. + + When Uncle Wilmot, from Malay, + Comes here, to make his usual Stay, + He surely will suppose + That he is back in savage Lands, + Where Heathens roam in impious Bands + And feast upon their Foes. + + We all should learn to curb our Speech, + Last Week we heard the Rector preach + Upon this Rule; ’tis true + If he your giddy Talk could hear + His Sermons would be more severe, + And he would preach on You. + + + + + SOLICITUDE + + + Come Matthew! set your Book aside, + And Ann your Shawl put on, + For in the Carriage we will ride + To visit Uncle John. + + The Way is long so Bread we’ll take, + And then, with Cups to fill, + We will alight our Thirst to slake + By some pellucid Rill. + + “Thanks, dear Papa,” the Youth did say, + “But shall we ask Mama + Her kindly Fears aside to lay + Before we ride so far?” + + Yes, thoughtful Boy, his Sire replied, + Your Words I now commend; + Solicitude should be our Guide + With Parent, as with Friend. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + ILL-TIMED LEVITY + + + I scarce can speak, Bartholomew, + I am so much displeased with you + For all that has occur’d: + Aunt Porter, who had come to stay, + Has in her Chariot roll’d away + Without a parting Word. + + Last Night, when all were sent to Dine, + You took a Fish-hook and some Twine + And, leaning o’er the Stair, + When honour’d Guests went by Below + Let slyly down the Hook, and so + Secured it in her Hair. + + Alas! Aunt Porter, long denied + That Crown which is a Woman’s Pride, + And thinking, sure, no Ill, + At Table duly took her Seat + With seasoned Majesty replete + And amiable Good-will. + + At last she rais’d her Hand appall’d + And sudden found that she was Bald, + And for her Speech did strive:-- + The Scene I cannot now pursue, + It has been given to very Few + Such Moments to survive. + + Ah me! you cannot understand + What Pow’r may lie in childish Hand + E’en at such tender Age. + Our Relative in high Disgust + Will make Resentment, deep and just, + Our only Heritage. + + + + + THOMAS AND THE BEGGAR + + + Come, Thomas come, your Mother called, + She saw you in the Street, + And of that Beggar, blind and bald + She watch’d you trip the Feet. + + His little Dog, with Jaws agape, + An angry Protest raised: + But all too late, his Master’s Shape + The Pavement’s Edge had grazed. + + Swift running came Policeman Joe + And, threat’ning, spoke of Jail: + For those who Others overthrow + May deep in Dungeons wail. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + OFFENSIVE MANNERS + + + How nicely little Cecil sits + And eats his Cake in careful Bits, + A Warning, John, to you + Whose Mouth is filled with Beef and Egg, + The Remnants of a Turkey’s Leg, + And half a Dumpling too. + + It really makes me feel quite hurt + To see the Way that you insert + Your Fingers in the Dish; + Such Mouthfuls too have ceased to be + Since Prophet Jonah marv’llously + Was swallowed by the Fish. + + Pray from the Joint remove your Fist, + And do not stubbornly persist + Good Manners to offend. + Some Day you’ll choke upon a Slice, + Or suffocate from too much Rice + And that will be your End. + + + + + CONTUMACIOUS CONSTANTINE + + + Come, Constantine! this sulky Face + I can no more excuse: + Entreat for Pardon, beg for Grace, + My Patience you abuse. + + Your Donkey, Ned, you emulate: + Because Creation’s Plan + Has formed the dumb Beast obstinate + It is not so with Man. + + Your Tongue was giv’n, with contrite Speech, + To own when you offend; + Your Soul Intelligence to teach + And Virtue recommend. + + Your Conduct you can not defend: + It surely was not kind + To throw the Pepper o’er your Friend, + And risk his going Blind? + + Despite his burning, tearful Eye, + Despite convulsive Sneeze, + If ask’d to Pardon he’d comply + With your Desire to Please. + + What! silent still? Then go away: + Until Contrition’s shown + In Solitude upstairs you stay, + For Meals dry Bread alone. + + All stubborn, naughty Children know + That Jam, and Cake, and Pies + Are only meant for those who show + A Nature Mild and Wise. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + DISOBEDIENT EMILY + + + When Emily her Task had done + It was her Nurse’s Rule + To stern forbid her Charge to run + Near Miller Jones’s Pool. + + But Emily did not incline + Kind Nursey to obey, + She saw the Water Lilies shine + That on the Water lay. + + “La!” she exclaimed, “what Nurse desired + She idly spoke in Haste, + Those Plants would fitly be admired + If on the Table placed.” + + And so, with bold, presumptuous Mien + And disobedient Pride, + She hies her to the Meadows green + Wherein the Waters glide. + + To reach the Flowers she plies each Art, + And, in the very Deed, + A Victim to her wilful Heart, + She sinks beneath the Weed. + + Nurse Sukey, from her Window high, + The dire Misfortune views, + Her deaf’ning Scream and frenzied Eye + Proclaim the fatal News. + + Dragged by the Miller and his Wife, + Who haste their Aid to lend, + Young Emily, restored to Life, + Makes Promise to amend. + + “Ah me!” she cries, “tho’ crowned with Slime + And choked with Mud and Leaves, + My Heart may profit, in its Time, + By what my Fault receives.” + + + + + VIOLENCE + + + Pause, Robert, pause: remember Cain! + What’s this you say, Adolphus Bain + Has struck you with his Fist? + Nay, your Resentment lay aside, + Your Playmate you should gently chide + And ask him to desist. + + If he has kicked you in the Chest, + Him you should pleasantly request + His Anger to postpone + Till you have warn’d him how such Deed + May injure Health, and Sickness breed, + And shake Religion’s Throne. + + The Reverend Mister Somerville + Has brought you up extremely ill + If you he has not taught + To know that they who raise the Hand + May come to bear Cain’s awful Brand: + Now Profit by the Thought. + + + + +Transcriber’s Note: + +A stanza break was added after the sixth line of “Inevitable +Retribution.” + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76648 *** |