Excerpt
Merry Stories And Funny Pictures When the children have been good,That is, be it understood,Good at meal-times, good at play,Good all night and good all day—They shall have the pretty thingsMerry Christmas always brings.Naughty, romping girls and boysTear their clothes and make a noise,Spoil their pinafores and frocks,And deserve no Christmas-box.Such as these shall never lookAt this pretty Picture-book.
Shock-headed Peter Just look at him! there he stands,With his nasty hair and hands.See! his nails are never cut;They are grimed as black as soot;And the sloven, I declare,Never once has combed his hair;Anything to me is sweeterThan to see Shock-headed Peter.
Cruel Frederick Here is cruel Frederick, see!A horrid wicked boy was he;He caught the flies, poor little things,And then tore off their tiny wings,He killed the birds, and broke the chairs,And threw the kitten down the stairs;And oh! far worse than all beside,He whipped his Mary, till she cried. The trough was full, and faithful TrayCame out to drink one sultry day;He wagged his tail, and wet his lip,When cruel Fred snatched up a whip,And whipped poor Tray till he was sore,And kicked and whipped him more and more:At this, good Tray grew very red,And growled, and bit him till he bled;Then you should only have been by,To see how Fred did scream and cry! So Frederick had to go to bed:His leg was very sore and red!The Doctor came, and shook his head,And made a very great to-do,And gave him nasty physic too. But good dog Tray is happy now;He has no time to say "Bow-wow!"He seats himself in Frederick's chairAnd laughs to see the nice things there:The soup he swallows, sup by sup—And eats the pies and puddings up.
The Dreadful Story of Harriet and the Matches It almost makes me cry to tellWhat foolish Harriet befell.Mamma and Nurse went out one dayAnd left her all alone at play.Now, on the table close at hand,A box of matches chanced to stand;And kind Mamma and Nurse had told her,That, if she touched them, they would scold her.But Harriet said: "Oh, what a pity!For, when they burn, it is so pretty;They crackle so, and spit, and flame:Mamma, too, often does the same."The pussy-cats heard this,And they began to hiss,And stretch their claws,And raise their paws;"Me-ow," they said, "me-ow, me-o,You'll burn to death, if you do so."But Harriet would not take advice:She lit a match, it was so nice!It crackled so, it burned so clear—Exactly like the picture here.She jumped for joy and ran aboutAnd was too pleased to put it out.The Pussy-cats saw thisAnd said: "Oh, naughty, naughty Miss!"And stretched their claws,And raised their paws:"'Tis very, very wrong, you know,Me-ow, me-o, me-ow, me-o,You will be burnt, if you do so." And see! oh, what dreadful thing!The fire has caught her apron-string;Her apron burns, her arms, her hair—She burns all over everywhere.Then how the pussy-cats did mew—What else, poor pussies, could they do?They screamed for help, 'twas all in vain!So then they said: "We'll scream again;Make haste, make haste, me-ow, me-o,She'll burn to death; we told her so."So she was burnt, with all her clothes,And arms, and hands, and eyes, and nose;Till she had nothing more to loseExcept her little scarlet shoes;And nothing else but these was foundAmong her ashes on the ground....