THE BOY AND SNAKETHE BOY ANDSNAKE
THE BOY AND SNAKETHE BOY ANDSNAKE
THE BOY ANDSNAKE
XI
Henrywas every morning fedWith a full mess of milk and bread.One day the boy his breakfast took,And ate it by a purling brook.His mother lets him have his way.With free leave Henry every dayThither repairs, until she heardHim talking of a finegrey bird.This pretty bird, he said, indeed,Came every day with him to feed;And it loved him and loved his milk,And it was smooth and soft like silk.On the next morn she follows Harry,And carefully she sees him carryThrough the long grass his heap’d-up mess.What was her terror and distressWhen she saw the infant takeHis bread and milk close to a snake!Upon the grass he spreads his feastAnd sits down by his frightful guest.Who had waited for the treat;And now they both began to eat.Fond mother! shriek not, O bewareThe least small noise, O have a care—The least small noise that may be madeThe wily snake will be afraid—If he hear the slightest sound,He will inflict th’ envenom’d wound.—She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe,As she stands the trees beneath.No sound she utters; and she soonSees the child lift up his spoon,And tap the snake upon the head,Fearless of harm; and then he said,As speaking to familiar mate,“Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate;”The snake then to the other side,As one rebuked, seems to glide;And now again advancing nigh,Again she hears the infant cry,Tapping the snake, “Keep further, do;Mind, Grey Pate, what I say to you.”The danger’s o’er! she sees the boy(O what a change from fear to joy!)Rise and bid the snake “good-bye;”Says he, “Our breakfast’s done, and IWill come again to-morrow day;”Then lightly tripping, ran away.
Henrywas every morning fedWith a full mess of milk and bread.One day the boy his breakfast took,And ate it by a purling brook.His mother lets him have his way.With free leave Henry every dayThither repairs, until she heardHim talking of a finegrey bird.This pretty bird, he said, indeed,Came every day with him to feed;And it loved him and loved his milk,And it was smooth and soft like silk.On the next morn she follows Harry,And carefully she sees him carryThrough the long grass his heap’d-up mess.What was her terror and distressWhen she saw the infant takeHis bread and milk close to a snake!Upon the grass he spreads his feastAnd sits down by his frightful guest.Who had waited for the treat;And now they both began to eat.Fond mother! shriek not, O bewareThe least small noise, O have a care—The least small noise that may be madeThe wily snake will be afraid—If he hear the slightest sound,He will inflict th’ envenom’d wound.—She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe,As she stands the trees beneath.No sound she utters; and she soonSees the child lift up his spoon,And tap the snake upon the head,Fearless of harm; and then he said,As speaking to familiar mate,“Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate;”The snake then to the other side,As one rebuked, seems to glide;And now again advancing nigh,Again she hears the infant cry,Tapping the snake, “Keep further, do;Mind, Grey Pate, what I say to you.”The danger’s o’er! she sees the boy(O what a change from fear to joy!)Rise and bid the snake “good-bye;”Says he, “Our breakfast’s done, and IWill come again to-morrow day;”Then lightly tripping, ran away.
Henrywas every morning fedWith a full mess of milk and bread.One day the boy his breakfast took,And ate it by a purling brook.His mother lets him have his way.With free leave Henry every dayThither repairs, until she heardHim talking of a finegrey bird.This pretty bird, he said, indeed,Came every day with him to feed;And it loved him and loved his milk,And it was smooth and soft like silk.On the next morn she follows Harry,And carefully she sees him carryThrough the long grass his heap’d-up mess.What was her terror and distressWhen she saw the infant takeHis bread and milk close to a snake!Upon the grass he spreads his feastAnd sits down by his frightful guest.Who had waited for the treat;And now they both began to eat.Fond mother! shriek not, O bewareThe least small noise, O have a care—The least small noise that may be madeThe wily snake will be afraid—If he hear the slightest sound,He will inflict th’ envenom’d wound.—She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe,As she stands the trees beneath.No sound she utters; and she soonSees the child lift up his spoon,And tap the snake upon the head,Fearless of harm; and then he said,As speaking to familiar mate,“Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate;”The snake then to the other side,As one rebuked, seems to glide;And now again advancing nigh,Again she hears the infant cry,Tapping the snake, “Keep further, do;Mind, Grey Pate, what I say to you.”The danger’s o’er! she sees the boy(O what a change from fear to joy!)Rise and bid the snake “good-bye;”Says he, “Our breakfast’s done, and IWill come again to-morrow day;”Then lightly tripping, ran away.
Henrywas every morning fed
With a full mess of milk and bread.
One day the boy his breakfast took,
And ate it by a purling brook.
His mother lets him have his way.
With free leave Henry every day
Thither repairs, until she heard
Him talking of a finegrey bird.
This pretty bird, he said, indeed,
Came every day with him to feed;
And it loved him and loved his milk,
And it was smooth and soft like silk.
On the next morn she follows Harry,
And carefully she sees him carry
Through the long grass his heap’d-up mess.
What was her terror and distress
When she saw the infant take
His bread and milk close to a snake!
Upon the grass he spreads his feast
And sits down by his frightful guest.
Who had waited for the treat;
And now they both began to eat.
Fond mother! shriek not, O beware
The least small noise, O have a care—
The least small noise that may be made
The wily snake will be afraid—
If he hear the slightest sound,
He will inflict th’ envenom’d wound.
—She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe,
As she stands the trees beneath.
No sound she utters; and she soon
Sees the child lift up his spoon,
And tap the snake upon the head,
Fearless of harm; and then he said,
As speaking to familiar mate,
“Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate;”
The snake then to the other side,
As one rebuked, seems to glide;
And now again advancing nigh,
Again she hears the infant cry,
Tapping the snake, “Keep further, do;
Mind, Grey Pate, what I say to you.”
The danger’s o’er! she sees the boy
(O what a change from fear to joy!)
Rise and bid the snake “good-bye;”
Says he, “Our breakfast’s done, and I
Will come again to-morrow day;”
Then lightly tripping, ran away.
(Illustration)