Now,Harry, I've a tale to tell,So sit upon this chair;It is of what one day befellA little maid so fair.
Now,Harry, I've a tale to tell,So sit upon this chair;It is of what one day befellA little maid so fair.
She had a trick of catching flies,And as I understand,Regardless of their shape or size,Would clasp them in her hand.A sly young bee that knew the waySome window-plants to gain,Yet choosing an unwise delayWas creeping on the pane:The thoughtless child, on mischief bent,Soon caught him by the wing;But she, on cruelty intent,Was punished with a sting.Nurse heard a cry of pain and grief,And tho' it seems quite funny,The little girl soon found reliefFrom poultice made of honey.[3]
She had a trick of catching flies,And as I understand,Regardless of their shape or size,Would clasp them in her hand.
A sly young bee that knew the waySome window-plants to gain,Yet choosing an unwise delayWas creeping on the pane:
The thoughtless child, on mischief bent,Soon caught him by the wing;But she, on cruelty intent,Was punished with a sting.
Nurse heard a cry of pain and grief,And tho' it seems quite funny,The little girl soon found reliefFrom poultice made of honey.[3]
A little Boy who was afraid in the dark.pa 32.
A little Boy who was afraid in the dark. pa 32.
Nurse's reflections on the advantages of truth and sincerity. pa 34.
Nurse's reflections on the advantages of truth and sincerity.pa 34.
Now since that time, I do expect,She'll hurt poor flies no more;The little maid will oft reflectOn all she's done before.O, Harry, it is sad, indeed,To hurt a living thing!And those who do it,really need,Arod, if not asting.
Now since that time, I do expect,She'll hurt poor flies no more;The little maid will oft reflectOn all she's done before.
O, Harry, it is sad, indeed,To hurt a living thing!And those who do it,really need,Arod, if not asting.
ANOTHER TALE.
A littlegirl, I also knew,With cheeks of red, and eyes of blue;And though she was at learning quick,She had full many an awkward trick.She ate so fast,—so often spoke,—Mamma was much afraid she'd choke;Her spice she ate, too, with such haste,She would not let her brother taste.And habits such as these 'twas thought,She learn'd from what her nurse had taught.[4]This little girl would often climb,And so it happen'd that, one time,Attempting more than she was able,She fell against a dining table.Loud did she cry "I've hurt my head!O, naughty table!" then she said,And sobbing loud, and crying more,Began to beat the table sore.Mamma was sadly griev'd to findHer darling to such tricks inclin'd,But watchful care, with language mild,Soon check'd this temper in the child."Such foolish ways, my Harry! shock!Heknows a table feels no knock:And, if it did, he would notlike,He would not evendare, to strike.He knows the maxim of the good—'Do as you wish that others should.'Revenge makes naughty passions grow,It plants the root of endless wo;A boy that follows long this plan,Will fight when he is grown a man."
A littlegirl, I also knew,With cheeks of red, and eyes of blue;And though she was at learning quick,She had full many an awkward trick.She ate so fast,—so often spoke,—Mamma was much afraid she'd choke;Her spice she ate, too, with such haste,She would not let her brother taste.And habits such as these 'twas thought,She learn'd from what her nurse had taught.[4]This little girl would often climb,And so it happen'd that, one time,Attempting more than she was able,She fell against a dining table.Loud did she cry "I've hurt my head!O, naughty table!" then she said,And sobbing loud, and crying more,Began to beat the table sore.Mamma was sadly griev'd to findHer darling to such tricks inclin'd,But watchful care, with language mild,Soon check'd this temper in the child."Such foolish ways, my Harry! shock!Heknows a table feels no knock:And, if it did, he would notlike,He would not evendare, to strike.He knows the maxim of the good—'Do as you wish that others should.'Revenge makes naughty passions grow,It plants the root of endless wo;A boy that follows long this plan,Will fight when he is grown a man."
NURSE'S THIRD TALE,ABOUT A LITTLE BOY WHO WASAFRAID IN THE DARK.
YoungAndrew Fearful was a childMost pleasing to behold,His temper was so sweet and mild,And he was four years old.But one sad failing Andrew had,Tho' gay as any lark,With scarce one habit that was bad,He did not like the dark.
YoungAndrew Fearful was a childMost pleasing to behold,His temper was so sweet and mild,And he was four years old.
But one sad failing Andrew had,Tho' gay as any lark,With scarce one habit that was bad,He did not like the dark.
As soon as candlelight appear'dOn evening fireside table,To walk about he scarcely dared,Though he was strong and able.And shadows flitting on the wall,Made Andrew jump and stare;He thought some mischief would befallWith such great monsters there.Mamma, in many a pleasant way,Contriv'd the help he needed;And glad I am that I can say,Her care at last succeeded.She took him to a room quite dark,And led him by the handTo some known object, as a mark,And then they both would stand.The room shut in, without a light,He did not much enjoy,And Andrew fear'd to step aright;So foolish was this boy.
As soon as candlelight appear'dOn evening fireside table,To walk about he scarcely dared,Though he was strong and able.
And shadows flitting on the wall,Made Andrew jump and stare;He thought some mischief would befallWith such great monsters there.
Mamma, in many a pleasant way,Contriv'd the help he needed;And glad I am that I can say,Her care at last succeeded.
She took him to a room quite dark,And led him by the handTo some known object, as a mark,And then they both would stand.
The room shut in, without a light,He did not much enjoy,And Andrew fear'd to step aright;So foolish was this boy.
Harry at dinner.pa 24.
Harry at dinner. pa 24.
Taking medicine. pa 26.
Taking medicine.pa 26.
But growing bolder, he would tryThe furniture to handle;And Andrew,fearlessby and by,Scarce wish'd to have a candle,Mamma, a paper nicely tied.Would place behind the curtain,With figs, or Pomfret cakes, supplied,And then the joy was certain.The shadows which he used to fear,Became his great delight;With joy mamma beheld her dearSo pleas'd with candlelight.Thus many a pleasant hour beguil'd,Young Andrew's courage grew;Mamma was happier in her child,And he was happier too.
But growing bolder, he would tryThe furniture to handle;And Andrew,fearlessby and by,Scarce wish'd to have a candle,
Mamma, a paper nicely tied.Would place behind the curtain,With figs, or Pomfret cakes, supplied,And then the joy was certain.
The shadows which he used to fear,Became his great delight;With joy mamma beheld her dearSo pleas'd with candlelight.
Thus many a pleasant hour beguil'd,Young Andrew's courage grew;Mamma was happier in her child,And he was happier too.
Note.Nurses are not sufficiently aware of the importance of guarding against early impressions of fear. In this respect, as in many others, it is much easier to prevent a bad habit, than to cure one. Too much care and tenderness of feeling cannot be used towards those children who have unfortunately imbibed a fear of the dark; yet, on the other hand, judicious care should be exercised, that the habit may not be fostered by over-indulgence.
NURSE'S REFLECTIONS ON THE ADVANTAGESOF TRUTH & SINCERITY.
Ifchildren are taught the whole lesson of truth,"'Twill bud in their childhood, and blossom in youth."This maxim I learnt from the pen of a sage,Whose vigor of mind was still green in old age:And much do I wish that my charge may be foundOn that ladder of learning where Truth is the ground;The foundation so broad makes the ladder stand even;And Truth's certain steps lead with safety to Heaven.Then, first, I'll be careful what language I use,That simple chaste words may express all my views:I'll watch o'er my actions with studious aim,That I may not, in future, deserve any blame;That bad habits may not from my errors proceed,Or my fair little plants be o'ergrown with a weed,My word and my promise shall always abide.And Truth and Sincerity sit side by side.Should I promise a thing which I do not perform,I lay the foundation for much future harm:If children learn falsehood from nurses or mothers,When grown up they will practise deceit upon others.Then nought but the truth to my child shall be spoken:If I once make a promise, itshall not be broken.[5]As the best thing of all, I will constantly tryTo watch overmyselfwith a vigilant eye;My passions and faults so to mend or remove,That all may be lost in obedience and love;That, in practice, I never may knowingly swerve,From the wishes of those whom I honour and serve:But with eyesingly fix'd, to my duty inclin'd,Let me show forth a meek and a teachable mind;On reproof or instruction not daring to trample,May I always remember theforce of example!
Ifchildren are taught the whole lesson of truth,"'Twill bud in their childhood, and blossom in youth."This maxim I learnt from the pen of a sage,Whose vigor of mind was still green in old age:And much do I wish that my charge may be foundOn that ladder of learning where Truth is the ground;The foundation so broad makes the ladder stand even;And Truth's certain steps lead with safety to Heaven.Then, first, I'll be careful what language I use,That simple chaste words may express all my views:I'll watch o'er my actions with studious aim,That I may not, in future, deserve any blame;That bad habits may not from my errors proceed,Or my fair little plants be o'ergrown with a weed,My word and my promise shall always abide.And Truth and Sincerity sit side by side.Should I promise a thing which I do not perform,I lay the foundation for much future harm:If children learn falsehood from nurses or mothers,When grown up they will practise deceit upon others.Then nought but the truth to my child shall be spoken:If I once make a promise, itshall not be broken.[5]As the best thing of all, I will constantly tryTo watch overmyselfwith a vigilant eye;My passions and faults so to mend or remove,That all may be lost in obedience and love;That, in practice, I never may knowingly swerve,From the wishes of those whom I honour and serve:But with eyesingly fix'd, to my duty inclin'd,Let me show forth a meek and a teachable mind;On reproof or instruction not daring to trample,May I always remember theforce of example!
FINIS.
J. May, Printer, &c. Dover.
A walk in the country.pa 12.
A walk in the country. pa 12.
A walk in the town. pa 14.
A walk in the town.pa 14.
FOOTNOTES:[1]The writer has been told that one species of the buttercup is poisonous: and there are many flowers which it would be hurtful for children to suck.[2]The writer was recommended to try a piece of leather, and has found it to produce less irritation than any of the hard substances so often used. Some mothers prefer Indian-rubber.[3]Spirits of hartshorn, if immediately applied, will likewise effectually remove the pain of a sting.Spirits of turpentine, in case of a burn or scald, is a valuable acquisition to a nurse-maid's closet. Its constant application till the fire is extracted, prevents those bad consequences which sometimes arise from neglect, or inefficient means.[4]In order to induce children to take their food, some persons are apt to say, "Come, my dear, make haste, or brother (or sister) shall have it! no, no, brother! you shall not have it!" Now every expression of this kind will infallibly create selfishness and greediness. A mode of conduct directly opposite should be enforced; that children may be taught to find their chief happiness in promoting the pleasure of their brothers and sisters, even by the sacrifice of their own.[5]Nurses should also be very cautious how they use threats to children. If they threaten to tell Mamma any thing, or to withhold any indulgence in case of naughtiness, let it be strictly attended to. If it benotattended to, children are great observers, and will soon find that but little regard is paid to truth; and thus incalculable evils may be the result. Some nurses, and even mothers, are apt to bribe their children in this way: "If my dear will do this, I'll give him a sugar-plum;" or, "Will he do so or so, if I give him a sugar-plum?" thus bringing down the standard of parental authority to the petulance or caprice of the child.—Can obedience ever be expected from one whose self-will is thus nurtured? Surely it must be from want of reflection, that mothers entail so much trouble upon themselves and their children!
[1]The writer has been told that one species of the buttercup is poisonous: and there are many flowers which it would be hurtful for children to suck.[2]The writer was recommended to try a piece of leather, and has found it to produce less irritation than any of the hard substances so often used. Some mothers prefer Indian-rubber.[3]Spirits of hartshorn, if immediately applied, will likewise effectually remove the pain of a sting.Spirits of turpentine, in case of a burn or scald, is a valuable acquisition to a nurse-maid's closet. Its constant application till the fire is extracted, prevents those bad consequences which sometimes arise from neglect, or inefficient means.[4]In order to induce children to take their food, some persons are apt to say, "Come, my dear, make haste, or brother (or sister) shall have it! no, no, brother! you shall not have it!" Now every expression of this kind will infallibly create selfishness and greediness. A mode of conduct directly opposite should be enforced; that children may be taught to find their chief happiness in promoting the pleasure of their brothers and sisters, even by the sacrifice of their own.[5]Nurses should also be very cautious how they use threats to children. If they threaten to tell Mamma any thing, or to withhold any indulgence in case of naughtiness, let it be strictly attended to. If it benotattended to, children are great observers, and will soon find that but little regard is paid to truth; and thus incalculable evils may be the result. Some nurses, and even mothers, are apt to bribe their children in this way: "If my dear will do this, I'll give him a sugar-plum;" or, "Will he do so or so, if I give him a sugar-plum?" thus bringing down the standard of parental authority to the petulance or caprice of the child.—Can obedience ever be expected from one whose self-will is thus nurtured? Surely it must be from want of reflection, that mothers entail so much trouble upon themselves and their children!
[1]The writer has been told that one species of the buttercup is poisonous: and there are many flowers which it would be hurtful for children to suck.
[2]The writer was recommended to try a piece of leather, and has found it to produce less irritation than any of the hard substances so often used. Some mothers prefer Indian-rubber.
[3]Spirits of hartshorn, if immediately applied, will likewise effectually remove the pain of a sting.
Spirits of turpentine, in case of a burn or scald, is a valuable acquisition to a nurse-maid's closet. Its constant application till the fire is extracted, prevents those bad consequences which sometimes arise from neglect, or inefficient means.
[4]In order to induce children to take their food, some persons are apt to say, "Come, my dear, make haste, or brother (or sister) shall have it! no, no, brother! you shall not have it!" Now every expression of this kind will infallibly create selfishness and greediness. A mode of conduct directly opposite should be enforced; that children may be taught to find their chief happiness in promoting the pleasure of their brothers and sisters, even by the sacrifice of their own.
[5]Nurses should also be very cautious how they use threats to children. If they threaten to tell Mamma any thing, or to withhold any indulgence in case of naughtiness, let it be strictly attended to. If it benotattended to, children are great observers, and will soon find that but little regard is paid to truth; and thus incalculable evils may be the result. Some nurses, and even mothers, are apt to bribe their children in this way: "If my dear will do this, I'll give him a sugar-plum;" or, "Will he do so or so, if I give him a sugar-plum?" thus bringing down the standard of parental authority to the petulance or caprice of the child.—Can obedience ever be expected from one whose self-will is thus nurtured? Surely it must be from want of reflection, that mothers entail so much trouble upon themselves and their children!
ONE SHILLING BOOKS, With Copper-plates.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.
Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.