THE TELL-TALE.
Emma, I’m sorry to observe
A trick you have, my dear,
Of listening to whate’er is said,
And telling all you hear.
I knew a little Judith Shove,
Who had this habit, too;
She was an active, sprightly girl,
About as old as you.
But what was said and done at home
She always minded well,
And, when she went abroad, the whole
She would be sure to tell.
People were cautious what they said
Where’er she chanced to come,
For well they knew that every word
Would straight be carried home.
The teacher who instructed her,
Had made this wholesome rule,
To punish every child who told
Of what was done in school.
But Judith loved to talk so well,
No rule could hold her long;
She could not bear to be restrained,
Nor learn to hold her tongue.
One day a scholar misbehaved,
This made the teacher fret,
And Judith told the whole affair
To every one she met.
But, when the active school-dame heard
Her laws were disobeyed,
To find the naughty tell-tale child,
A search she quickly made.
Judith well knew the fault was hers,
And greatly did she fear
To take the threatened punishment
Which she deserved to bear.
So, on her little sister she
Contrived the blame to lay,
And said she heard her tell the tale
At home that very day.
The little, frightened, trembling child
With truth the charge denied;
But Judith said, before the school,
That little Sallie lied.
And so she bore what would have been
The wicked Judith’s due,—
The punishment for telling tales,
And speaking falsely, too.
Weeping and sobbing she went home,
Her little heart was full;
And Sallie was a child of truth,
So they believed the whole.
Papa made Judith go to school,
And there, before them all,
Own how deceitful she had been;
Then on her knees to fall
Before the dame and Sallie, too,
Their pardon to obtain,
And promise she would never do
So wickedly again.
But ever after, let her go
Abroad where’er she would,
The boys would hoot her as she passed,
And call her—Tattling Jude!