A very naughty boy was John;He quarreled with his food,And would not eat his bread and milk,As all good children should.It grieved his kind mamma to seeHow thin and thinner grewHer little John, in spite of allThat she could say or do.
Above the chimney Father StorkHeard all that Johnny said,And how each day he pushed awayThe bowl of milk and bread.And so it was, when kind mammaHad left the house one day,In through the kitchen door he cameAnd carried John away.
Upon the roof the little storksLive high up in the sky,And far below them in the streetThey hear the folks go by.The old stork brings them, in his beak,The eels and frogs for food;But these he will not let them haveUnless they're very good.
Such things poor Johnny could not eat;And as he sat and cried,He thought of all the bread and milkHe used to push aside."If I were only home again,I would be good," he said,"And never, never turn awayFrom wholesome milk and bread."
If little John was thin before,Now thinner every dayHe grew, until you'd think the windWould carry him away.So, when at last he was so leanHis bones seemed poking through,There came a sudden gust of wind,And, puff! away he blew.
And when it blew him to the street,How fast he hurried home!And, oh, how glad his mother wasTo see her Johnny come!But gladder still she was to findThat he had grown so good,And never now would turn awayFrom wholesome simple food.
"Oh please mamma," said little Jane,"May I go out to play?""No, no," her mother answered her;"I fear 'twill rain to-day."
"With my umbrella green," said Jane,"I will not mind the wet."But still mamma replied, "No, no;A cold I fear you'd get."
But oh, Jane was a naughty girl!On her own way intent;Soon as mamma had turned away,Out in the street she went.The streets were wet and lonely;No children there at play;Only old Mother WebtoesThe frog abroad that day.
Now little Jane she seizes,In spite of all her cries,And green umbrella, Jane and all,Away with her she flies.Far, far off in the river,Upon a moisty stone,Old Webtoes and her childrenLive in a hut alone;
And Jane's big green umbrellaOld Webtoes hides away;She makes her sweep, she makes her scrub;Jane has no time to play.She spreads a bed of rushes,Where Jane may sleep at night,And wakes her in the morningAs soon as it is light.
"Get up," cries Mother Webtoes;"The breakfast you must get.""Oh let me stay in bed," says Jane;"The floor is cold and wet."But Mother Webtoes stamps her foot,And makes the child arise;But as Jane sobs, behind the door,Ah, what is this she spies?
It is her green umbrella;She sets it now afloat,And down the river in it sails,As if it were a boat."Oh Mother Webtoes, only look,"She hears the young frogs scream;"The little girl you brought to usIs sailing down the stream."
But Jane is quite too far awayFor them to catch her then,And when at last she drifts ashoreShe sees her home again.She rushes to her mother's armsWith sobs and streaming eyes—"Oh mother, mother dear, forgiveYour naughty Jane," she cries.
Eliza Ann was far from good;She did not act as children should,But fought and quarreled so at playThe boys and girls all ran away.
Her mother said, "Take care, my dear,The rabbit witch will come, I fear,And steal you one of these fine days,Unless you learn to mend your ways."
But yet Eliza did not heed;She was a naughty girl indeed.So now the rabbit witch has come,And carries her away from home.
Down in the marshes far awayThe rabbit's children squeak and play;They tease Eliza till she cries,And with her apron hides her eyes.
When market day comes round againThe witch locks up her house and thenShe says, "Be careful while you play;—Don't lose this child when I'm away."Now she has gone Eliza takesHer apron and a doll she makes.
"Just see this apron-girl," she cries;—"Look at it's nose and button eyes."And now her frock with belt and foldInto another doll is rolled;She gives it to the rabbit boy,Who squeaks and stamps his foot with joy.
"Now," cry the rabbits, "we will play,For these girls cannot run away."But while they rock their dolls and singThe witch brings home her marketing."Where are you children dear," she cries.The little rabbit boy replies;—
"Here with two girls we play, but oneFar off, across the fields has run."The rabbit witch went hurrying outTo see what they could be about.There no Eliza could she findBut only clothes she'd left behind.
Quick after her the old witch ran;—Haste, haste, make haste, Eliza Ann!Her own dear home was reached at last;The door was shut, the latch made fast.
But young Eliza had been taughtA lesson as her mother thought:Henceforth she was so sweet and mildAll loved to be with such a child.
These small boys started off for schoolBut loitered by the way,Until at last 'twas quite too lateTo go to school that day.Ah naughty, naughty, truant boys!But listen what befell!Close by a wicked ogress lived,Down in a lonesome dell.
Now see her coming down the hill!Now see the children run!Her arms are long, her hands are strong,She catches every one.In vain the children kick and scream,The ogress takes them homeAnd locks the door; then off she goesTo bid the neighbors come.
But clever Peter sees aboveThe chimney, black and wide;"Quick, wipe your eyes and come," he cries;"I've found a place to hide."And none too soon, for scarce the lastIs out of sight beforeThey hear the wicked ogressCome stumping in the door.
Then from the chimney Peter bawls,"We're hiding, stupid face!""Oh, oh!" the ogress says, "I know;You're up the chimney place."So up the chimney now she looks;"I'll fetch you out," she cries;But puff! the clever Peter blowsThe soot down in her eyes.
All filled with black out through the doorShe hurries, howling still,Just when the other ogressesAre coming up the hill.They stop, they stare, they quake with fear,They stand appalled to seeThis dreadful, hopping, howling thingAs black as black can be.
And now pell-mell away they run;But down the chimney placeThe boys climb ere the ogressCan clean her sooty face;And when they're safely home againThey keep the master's rule,And never, never play againAt truant from the school.
Transcriber's Note:The word 'nightcap' is spelled with and without a hyphen in the text. Both spellings appear to have been in common use and have not been altered.
The word 'nightcap' is spelled with and without a hyphen in the text. Both spellings appear to have been in common use and have not been altered.