THE SWEET TOOTH
Alas poor Fred! So fat is he,
Only a pig could fatter be.
THE SWEET TOOTH
A SWEET-TOOTH was our Frederick.
He scorned the bread and meat
And all the other wholesome things
That children ought to eat.
He ate the sugar from the bowl;
He fed on cakes and pies,
The very sight of lollipops
Brought water to his eyes.
He grew too fat to play about,
Too fat to run or jump,
On either side his arms stuck out
Like handles of a pump.
It grieved his kind mamma to see
How fat and fatter grew
Her little Fred, in spite of all
That she could say or do.
One day, with pennies in his hand
He set out for a shop,
To buy himself some sugar-cakes
Or tart or lollipop.
But oh the day was very hot,
The sun a fiery ball,
And soon the heat made Fred so soft
He scarce could walk at all.
“Oh dear, oh dear! I feel so queer;
What’s happening?” cried he.
“If I should melt in all this heat
How dreadful it would be!”
It is a sorry tale to tell,
But greedy ones take heed!
Fred’s arms and legs and all of him
Were melting down indeed.
They melted till you scarce could tell
Fred was a boy at all,
For now he looked all smooth and round
As though he were a ball.
That afternoon the girls and boys
Came running out to play,
And wondering they gathered round
The place where Frederick lay.
“Oh what a great enormous ball!
”Let’s play with it,“ they cried;
And then they rolled and pushed poor Fred
About from side to side.
Hither and yon, in giddy round
The wretched Frederick sped,
And sometimes he was on his heels,
And sometimes on his head.
At supper time the mothers called,
“Now put your ball away.
To-morrow you can get it out
And have another play.”
Ah Frederick, poor Frederick!
Though he lay quiet now
He could not even lift his hand
To wipe his heated brow,
And now each day they came to play
With Fred, until at last
His fat began to wear away
They rolled him round so fast.
The disappointed children said,
“Someone has spoiled our ball.
It’s growing such a funny shape
It scarcely rolls at all.”
One time when they had stopped to rest
Fred’s little brother said,
“It’s queer, but don’t you think our ball
Looks very much like Fred?”
“Why it is Fred,” his sister cried.
“I know his eyes and nose.
And only see! Those are his hands,
And down there are his toes.”
They called his mother out to see.
With eager steps she came,
At once she knew her Frederick,
And called him by his name.
And now he found that he could turn,
That he could move and rise.
He stood before his mother
With shamed and tearful eyes.
“Oh, mother, mother, dear, I’ve had
A dreadful time!” cried he,
“But now that I’m a boy again
Less greedy I will be.”
