Page 12—Naughty Girls

Girl Who Wouldn't Go to Bed
Once I knew a little girl,
Who wouldn't go to bed,
And in the morning always had
A very sleepy head.
At night she'd stop upon the stairs,
And hold the railings tight
Then with a puff she'd try to blow
Out Mary Ann's rushlight.
The bed at last they tuck'd her in,
The light she vow'd to keep;
Left in the dark she roar'd and cried;
Till tired she went to sleep.
Little Girl that Beat her Sister
Go, go, my naughty girl, and kiss
Your little sister dear;
I must not have such things as this,
Nor noisy quarrels here.
What! little children scold and fight
Who ought to be so mild;
Oh! Mary, 'tis a shocking sight
To see an angry child.
I can't imagine for my part,
The reason of your folly,
As if she did you any hurt
By playing with your dolly.
Children Should not Quarrel
Let dogs delight to bark an bite,
For God hath made them so;
Let bears and lions growl and fight:
For 'tis their nature to.
But children you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.
The Sulky Girl
Why is Mary standing there,
Leaning down upon the chair,
With pouting lip and frowning brow?
I wonder what's the matter now.
Come here, my dear, and tell me true,
Is it because I spoke to you
About what you just now had done,
That you are such a naughty one?
When, then, indeed, I'm grieved to see
That you can so ill-tempered be:
You make your faults a great deal worse
By being sulky and perverse.
Oh! how much better it appears,
To see you melting into tears,
And then to hear you humbly say,
"I'll not do so another day!"
The Little Girl that did not Like to be Washed
What! cry when I wash you! not love to be clean?
There, go and be dirty, unfit to be seen;
And till you leave off, and I see you have smiled,
I'll not take the trouble to wash such a child.
The Girl who Sucked her Fingers
A little girl, named Mary Kate,
Whom you may have chance to see,
Would have been loved by small and great,
But for one thing, which I'll relate;
So listen now to me.
A silly habit she's acquired
Of putting in her mouth,
The pretty fingers of her hand,
And sucking them, for hours she'd stand,
In a manner most uncouth.
Her play-companions used to laugh,
And jeeringly would say,
"Oh, pray bring Mary Kate some crumbs,
Poor thing! she's dining off her thumbs,
She'll eat them all away."
Girl Stealing Treacle
This is Nelly Pilfer;
I'll tell you what she earned
By stealing off the treacle
When Mary's back was turned.
They caught the greedy Nelly
With treacle on her hand,
They put her in the corner,
And there they made her stand.
The Girl who Soiled her Clothes
Little Polly Flinders,
Sat among the cinders,
Warming her pretty toes;
Her mother came and caught her,
And scolded her little daughter,
For spoiling her nice new clothes.
The Greedy Little Girl
I knew a greedy little girl,
Who all day long did roar;
Whatever toys were given her,
She always wanted more.
Five dolls she had—one was black,
A ball and battledore,
But held them all so very tight,
The roar'd and scream'd for more.
Now this was wicked of the child,
As everyone must own;
So for the whole of one long day
They shut her up alone.
The Girl Who Played with Fire
Mamma, a little girl I met,
Had such a scar, I can't forget!
All down her arms and neck and face;
I could not bear to see the place.
Poor little girl! and don't you know
The shocking trick that made her so?
'Twas all because she went and did
A thing her mother had forbid.
For once, when nobody was by her,
This silly child would play with fire;
And long before her mother came,
Her pinafore was all in flame.
In vain she tried to put it out,
Till all her clothes were burnt about;
And then she suffer'd ten times more,
All over with a dreadful sore.
For many months before 'twas cured,
Both day and night the pain endured;
And still you see, when passing by her,
How sad it is to play with fire.
Little Miss Consequence
Little Miss Consequence strutted about,
Turned up her nose, pointed her toes,
And thought herself quite a grand person, no doubt.
Gave herself airs; took many cares,
To appear old; was haughty and cold.
She spoke to the servants like a dog or a cat
And fussed about this, and fussed about that.
The Vulgar Little Lady
"But, mamma, now," said Charlotte, "pray don't you believe
That I'm better than Jenny my nurse?
Only see my red shoes, and the lace on my sleeve;
Her clothes are a thousand times worse.
"I ride in my coach, and have nothing to do.
And the country folks stare at me so;
And nobody dares to control me but you,
Because I'm a lady, you know.
"Then servants are vulgar and I am genteel;
So, really, 'tis out of the way,
To think that I should not be better a deal
Than maids, and such people as they."
"Gentility, Charlotte," her mother replied,
"Belongs to no station or place;
And nothing's so vulgar as folly and pride,
Though dressed in red slippers and lace.
"Not all the fine things that fine ladies possess
Should teach them the poor to despise;
For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress,
That the truest gentility lies."

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