"Mamma, why mayn't I, when we dine,Eat ham and goose, and drink white wine?And pray, why may not I, like you,Have soup and fish, and mutton too?""Because, my dear, it is not rightTo spoil a youthful appetite;By things unwholesome, though enjoy'd,The infant appetite is cloy'd."A slice of mutton, roast or boil'd,Or good roast beef, best suits a child;A bread, or ground-rice, pudding tooIs food adapted well for you."From eating highly flavour'd thingsIllness or inconvenience springs;You lose the love of common food,Nor relish what will do you good."
"Mamma, why mayn't I, when we dine,Eat ham and goose, and drink white wine?And pray, why may not I, like you,Have soup and fish, and mutton too?"
"Because, my dear, it is not rightTo spoil a youthful appetite;By things unwholesome, though enjoy'd,The infant appetite is cloy'd.
"A slice of mutton, roast or boil'd,Or good roast beef, best suits a child;A bread, or ground-rice, pudding tooIs food adapted well for you.
"From eating highly flavour'd thingsIllness or inconvenience springs;You lose the love of common food,Nor relish what will do you good."
"Come, let us play,"Said Tommy Gay;"Well then, what at?"Said Simon Pratt;"At trap and ball,"Said Neddy Hall;"Well, so we will,"Said Billy Gill."What a hot day!"Said Tommy Gay;"Then let us chat,"Said Simon Pratt;"On yonder hill,"Said Billy Gill."Ay, one and all,"Said Neddy Hall."For cakes I'll pay,"Said Tommy Gay;"I'm one for that,"Said Simon Pratt;"I'll bring them all,"Said Neddy Hall;"And I'll sit still,"Said Billy Gill."Come with me, pray,"Said Tommy Gay;"Trust me for that,"Said Simon Pratt;They ate them all,Gay, Pratt, and Hall;And all were illBut Billy Gill.
"Come, let us play,"Said Tommy Gay;"Well then, what at?"Said Simon Pratt;"At trap and ball,"Said Neddy Hall;"Well, so we will,"Said Billy Gill.
"What a hot day!"Said Tommy Gay;"Then let us chat,"Said Simon Pratt;"On yonder hill,"Said Billy Gill."Ay, one and all,"Said Neddy Hall.
"For cakes I'll pay,"Said Tommy Gay;"I'm one for that,"Said Simon Pratt;"I'll bring them all,"Said Neddy Hall;"And I'll sit still,"Said Billy Gill.
"Come with me, pray,"Said Tommy Gay;"Trust me for that,"Said Simon Pratt;They ate them all,Gay, Pratt, and Hall;And all were illBut Billy Gill.
"Give me some beer!" cried little Jane,At dinner-table as she sat.Her mother said, "Pray ask again,And in a prettier way than that."For 'give me that,' and 'give me this,'Is not the best way to be heard:To make Ann hear, a little MissMust add another little word.""Pray, give me, Ann, a glass of beer,"Jane blushing said—her mother smiled:"Now Ann will quickly bring it here,For you ask properly, my child."You little Misses, Masters too,Who wish to have a share of praise,Pray copy Jane, and always doDirectly what your mother says.
"Give me some beer!" cried little Jane,At dinner-table as she sat.Her mother said, "Pray ask again,And in a prettier way than that.
"For 'give me that,' and 'give me this,'Is not the best way to be heard:To make Ann hear, a little MissMust add another little word."
"Pray, give me, Ann, a glass of beer,"Jane blushing said—her mother smiled:"Now Ann will quickly bring it here,For you ask properly, my child."
You little Misses, Masters too,Who wish to have a share of praise,Pray copy Jane, and always doDirectly what your mother says.
James went to the door of the kitchen and said,"Cook, give me this moment, some honey and bread;Then fetch me a glass or a cup of good beer.Why, Cook, you don't stir, and I'm sure you must hear!""Indeed, Master James," was the Cook's right reply,"To answer such language I feel rather shy;I hear you quite plainly, but wait till you chooseTo civilly ask, when I shall not refuse."What a pity young boys should indulge in this way,Whilst knowing so well what is proper to say;As if civil words, in a well-manner'd tone,Were learn'd to be us'd in the parlour alone!
James went to the door of the kitchen and said,"Cook, give me this moment, some honey and bread;Then fetch me a glass or a cup of good beer.Why, Cook, you don't stir, and I'm sure you must hear!"
"Indeed, Master James," was the Cook's right reply,"To answer such language I feel rather shy;I hear you quite plainly, but wait till you chooseTo civilly ask, when I shall not refuse."
What a pity young boys should indulge in this way,Whilst knowing so well what is proper to say;As if civil words, in a well-manner'd tone,Were learn'd to be us'd in the parlour alone!
Miss Kitty was rude at the table one day,And would not sit still on her seat;Regardless of all that her mother could say,From her chair little Kitty kept running awayAll the time they were eating their meat.As soon as she saw that the beef was remov'd,She ran to her chair in great haste;But her mother such giddy behaviour reprov'dBy sending away the sweet pudding she lov'd,Without giving Kitty one taste.
Miss Kitty was rude at the table one day,And would not sit still on her seat;Regardless of all that her mother could say,From her chair little Kitty kept running awayAll the time they were eating their meat.
As soon as she saw that the beef was remov'd,She ran to her chair in great haste;But her mother such giddy behaviour reprov'dBy sending away the sweet pudding she lov'd,Without giving Kitty one taste.
Sammy Smith would drink and eat,From morning until night;He filled his mouth so full of meat,It was a shameful sight.Sometimes he gave a book or toyFor apple, cake, or plum;And grudged if any other boyShould taste a single crumb.Indeed he ate and drank so fast,And used to stuff and cram,The name they call'd him by at lastWas often Greedy Sam.
Sammy Smith would drink and eat,From morning until night;He filled his mouth so full of meat,It was a shameful sight.
Sometimes he gave a book or toyFor apple, cake, or plum;And grudged if any other boyShould taste a single crumb.
Indeed he ate and drank so fast,And used to stuff and cram,The name they call'd him by at lastWas often Greedy Sam.
William has a silly trick—On everything his hand he lays;He made himself extremely sick,One morning, by his greedy ways.I promised him I'd write it here(Although he owns he's much to blame),That all may read it far and near,Lest other boys should do the same.No scatter'd bits his eye can pass,He tastes and sips where'er he comes,He empties everybody's glass,And picks up everybody's crumbs.He'll not do so again, I hope:He has been warn'd enough, I think;For once he ate a piece of soap,And sipp'd for wine a glass of ink.
William has a silly trick—On everything his hand he lays;He made himself extremely sick,One morning, by his greedy ways.
I promised him I'd write it here(Although he owns he's much to blame),That all may read it far and near,Lest other boys should do the same.
No scatter'd bits his eye can pass,He tastes and sips where'er he comes,He empties everybody's glass,And picks up everybody's crumbs.
He'll not do so again, I hope:He has been warn'd enough, I think;For once he ate a piece of soap,And sipp'd for wine a glass of ink.
As Tommy and his sister JaneWere walking down a shady lane,They saw some berries, bright and red,That hung around and overhead;And soon the bough they bended down,To make the scarlet fruit their own;And part they ate, and part, in play,They threw about, and flung away.But long they had not been at homeBefore poor Jane and little TomWere taken sick, and ill, to bed,And since, I've heard, they both are dead.Alas! had Tommy understoodThat fruit in lanes is seldom good,He might have walked with little JaneAgain along the shady lane.
As Tommy and his sister JaneWere walking down a shady lane,They saw some berries, bright and red,That hung around and overhead;
And soon the bough they bended down,To make the scarlet fruit their own;And part they ate, and part, in play,They threw about, and flung away.
But long they had not been at homeBefore poor Jane and little TomWere taken sick, and ill, to bed,And since, I've heard, they both are dead.
Alas! had Tommy understoodThat fruit in lanes is seldom good,He might have walked with little JaneAgain along the shady lane.
"Betty, attend to what I say,This is my little boy's birth-day;Some sugar-plums and citron take,And send to school a large plum-cake.""That, madam, I will gladly do;Harry's so good and clever too:So let me have some wine and spice.For I would make it very nice."When it arriv'd, the little boyLaugh'd, sang, and jump'd about for joy;But, ah! how griev'd I am to say,He did not give a bit away.Heate, andate, andatehis fill,No wonder that it made him ill;Pain in his stomach and his headOblig'd him soon to go to bed.Oh! long he lay, and griev'd the while,Order'd by Dr. CamomileSuch physic, and so much to take,He now can't bear the name of cake.
"Betty, attend to what I say,This is my little boy's birth-day;Some sugar-plums and citron take,And send to school a large plum-cake."
"That, madam, I will gladly do;Harry's so good and clever too:So let me have some wine and spice.For I would make it very nice."
When it arriv'd, the little boyLaugh'd, sang, and jump'd about for joy;But, ah! how griev'd I am to say,He did not give a bit away.
Heate, andate, andatehis fill,No wonder that it made him ill;Pain in his stomach and his headOblig'd him soon to go to bed.
Oh! long he lay, and griev'd the while,Order'd by Dr. CamomileSuch physic, and so much to take,He now can't bear the name of cake.
Peter Careful had a cakeWhich his kind mamma did bake;Of butter, eggs, and currants made,And sent to Peter—carriage paid."Now," said Peter, "they shall see,Wiser than Harry I will be;For I will keep my cake in store,And that will make it last the more."He, like Harry (sad to say),Did not give a bit away,But, miser-like, the cake he locksWith all his playthings in his box.And sometimes silently he'd go,When all he thought engag'd below,To eat avery littlepiece,For fear his treasure should decrease.When next he went (it makes me laugh)He found the mice had eaten half,And what remain'd, though once a treat,So mouldy, 'twas not fit to eat.
Peter Careful had a cakeWhich his kind mamma did bake;Of butter, eggs, and currants made,And sent to Peter—carriage paid.
"Now," said Peter, "they shall see,Wiser than Harry I will be;For I will keep my cake in store,And that will make it last the more."
He, like Harry (sad to say),Did not give a bit away,But, miser-like, the cake he locksWith all his playthings in his box.
And sometimes silently he'd go,When all he thought engag'd below,To eat avery littlepiece,For fear his treasure should decrease.
When next he went (it makes me laugh)He found the mice had eaten half,And what remain'd, though once a treat,So mouldy, 'twas not fit to eat.
Young William Goodchild was a boyWho lov'd to give his playmates joy;And when his mother senthiscake,Rejoic'd for his companions' sake."Come round," he cried, "each take a slice,Each have his proper share of ice;We'll eat it up among us, here:My birth-day comes but once a year."A poor blind man, who came that way,His violin began to play;But though he play'd, he did not speak,And tears ran slowly down his cheek."What makes you weep?" young William cried."I'm poor and hungry," he replied,"For food and home I'm forced to play,But I have eaten nought to-day.""Poor man!" said William, "half my shareRemains, which I will gladly spare;I wish 'twas larger for your sake,So take this penny and the cake."I need not ask each youthful breastWhich of these boys you like the best;Let goodness, then, incitement prove,And imitate the boy you love.
Young William Goodchild was a boyWho lov'd to give his playmates joy;And when his mother senthiscake,Rejoic'd for his companions' sake.
"Come round," he cried, "each take a slice,Each have his proper share of ice;We'll eat it up among us, here:My birth-day comes but once a year."
A poor blind man, who came that way,His violin began to play;But though he play'd, he did not speak,And tears ran slowly down his cheek.
"What makes you weep?" young William cried."I'm poor and hungry," he replied,"For food and home I'm forced to play,But I have eaten nought to-day."
"Poor man!" said William, "half my shareRemains, which I will gladly spare;I wish 'twas larger for your sake,So take this penny and the cake."
I need not ask each youthful breastWhich of these boys you like the best;Let goodness, then, incitement prove,And imitate the boy you love.
Now, little Sophy, come with me,To make a pudding you shall see;Now sit quite still, and see me do it;See, here's the flour and the suet.The suet must be chopped quite small,For it should scarce be seen at all;A pound of each will nicely suit,To which I put two pounds of fruit.One is of currants, one of plums(You'll find it good when boiled it comes);Then almonds, sugar, citron, spice,And peel, will make it very nice.Now see me stir and mix it well,And then we'll leave the rest to Nell;Now see, the pudding-cloth she flours,Ties it, and boils it full five hours.
Now, little Sophy, come with me,To make a pudding you shall see;Now sit quite still, and see me do it;See, here's the flour and the suet.
The suet must be chopped quite small,For it should scarce be seen at all;A pound of each will nicely suit,To which I put two pounds of fruit.
One is of currants, one of plums(You'll find it good when boiled it comes);Then almonds, sugar, citron, spice,And peel, will make it very nice.
Now see me stir and mix it well,And then we'll leave the rest to Nell;Now see, the pudding-cloth she flours,Ties it, and boils it full five hours.
For a list of Children's books and others see the next pages.
The Westminster Gazette.—"Very delightful stories they are. The great difficulty with books for children is that they are often so large, a difficulty which in the case of the bound annual really assumes formidable proportions—especially to the uncle or aunt who is seized by the juvenile press-gang and coerced into reading aloud. But this 'Dumpy Book' is quite perfect from that point of view, for it is no bigger than a prayer-book. All three tales are capital fun, and admirably suited to children.... We have unreserved praise for this child's book, dainty and attractive in what it contains and in the way in which it is produced."
The Westminster Gazette.—"Very delightful stories they are. The great difficulty with books for children is that they are often so large, a difficulty which in the case of the bound annual really assumes formidable proportions—especially to the uncle or aunt who is seized by the juvenile press-gang and coerced into reading aloud. But this 'Dumpy Book' is quite perfect from that point of view, for it is no bigger than a prayer-book. All three tales are capital fun, and admirably suited to children.... We have unreserved praise for this child's book, dainty and attractive in what it contains and in the way in which it is produced."
The Globe.—"Is, we think, the best of its kind—partly because it is so comprehensive and so catholic, partly because it consists so largely of matter not too hackneyed, partly because that matter is so pleasantly arranged. The verse here brought together is full of agreeable variety, it is from many sources, some hitherto not drawn upon; and it has been grouped in sections with a happy sense of congruity and freshness."
The Globe.—"Is, we think, the best of its kind—partly because it is so comprehensive and so catholic, partly because it consists so largely of matter not too hackneyed, partly because that matter is so pleasantly arranged. The verse here brought together is full of agreeable variety, it is from many sources, some hitherto not drawn upon; and it has been grouped in sections with a happy sense of congruity and freshness."
PREFACE (Addressed to Children)
Unless you are very keenly set upon reading to yourself, I think I should advise you to ask some one to read these pieces aloud, not too many at a time. And I want you to understand that there is a kind of poetry that is finer far than anything here: poetry to which this book is, in the old-fashioned phrase, simply a "stepping-stone." When you feel, as I hope some day you will feel, that these pages no longer satisfy, then you must turn to the better thing.
E. V. L.
The following are the various headings under which the Contents are grouped:—
Two Thoughts—The Open Air—The Year—Christmas—The Country Life—Blossoms from Herrick and Blake—Birds—Dogs and Horses—Compressed Natural History—Unnatural History—Poets at Play—Counsel—Old-Fashioned Girls—Marjorie Fleming, Poetess—Old-Fashioned Boys—Looking Forward—From "Hiawatha"—Good Fellows—The Sea and the Island—A Bundle of Stories—Bedtime—A Few Remarks.
Two Thoughts—The Open Air—The Year—Christmas—The Country Life—Blossoms from Herrick and Blake—Birds—Dogs and Horses—Compressed Natural History—Unnatural History—Poets at Play—Counsel—Old-Fashioned Girls—Marjorie Fleming, Poetess—Old-Fashioned Boys—Looking Forward—From "Hiawatha"—Good Fellows—The Sea and the Island—A Bundle of Stories—Bedtime—A Few Remarks.
THE FLOWER OF THE MIND: A Choice among the Best Poems. ByAlice Meynell. With Cover designed byLaurence Housman. Crown 8vo. Buckram, 6s.
REALMS OF UNKNOWN KINGS: Poems. ByLaurence Alma-Tadema. Fcap. 8vo. Paper covers, 2s. net. Buckram, 3s. net.
POEMS BY A. AND L. ByArabellaandLouisa Shore. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net.
RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM. A Paraphrase from several Literal Translations. ByRichard le Gallienne. Long Fcap. 8vo. Parchment Cover. 5s.
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