WASHINGTON AND HIS HATCHETIt was Ar-bor Day in the Mos-sy Hill School, Johnny Little-john had to speak a piece that had some-thing to do with trees. He thought it would be a good plan to say some-thing about the little cherry tree that Washington spoiled with his hatch-et, when he was a little boy. This is what he said:[Illustration]He had a hatch-et—little George—A hatch-et bright and new,And sharp enough to cut a stick—A little stick—in two.He hacked and whacked and whacked and hacked,This sturd-y little man;He hacked a log and hacked a fence,As round about he ran.He hacked his father’s cher-ry treeAnd made an ug-ly spot;The bark was soft, the hatch-et sharp,And little George forgot.You know the rest. The father frownedAnd asked the rea-son why;You know the good old story runsHe could not tell a lie.The boy that chopped that cher-ry treeSoon grew to be a youth;At work and books he hacked away,And still he told the truth:The youth became a fa-mous man,Above six feet in height,And when he had good work to doHe hacked with all his might.He fought the ar-mies that the kingHad sent across the sea;He bat-tled up and down the landTo set his country free.For seven long years he, hacked and whackedWith all his might and mainUntil the Brit-ish sailed awayAnd did not come again.[Illustration]
It was Ar-bor Day in the Mos-sy Hill School, Johnny Little-john had to speak a piece that had some-thing to do with trees. He thought it would be a good plan to say some-thing about the little cherry tree that Washington spoiled with his hatch-et, when he was a little boy. This is what he said:
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He had a hatch-et—little George—A hatch-et bright and new,And sharp enough to cut a stick—A little stick—in two.He hacked and whacked and whacked and hacked,This sturd-y little man;He hacked a log and hacked a fence,As round about he ran.He hacked his father’s cher-ry treeAnd made an ug-ly spot;The bark was soft, the hatch-et sharp,And little George forgot.You know the rest. The father frownedAnd asked the rea-son why;You know the good old story runsHe could not tell a lie.The boy that chopped that cher-ry treeSoon grew to be a youth;At work and books he hacked away,And still he told the truth:The youth became a fa-mous man,Above six feet in height,And when he had good work to doHe hacked with all his might.He fought the ar-mies that the kingHad sent across the sea;He bat-tled up and down the landTo set his country free.For seven long years he, hacked and whackedWith all his might and mainUntil the Brit-ish sailed awayAnd did not come again.
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