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Home Peace "Whatever brawls disturb the street There should be peace at home; Where sisters dwell and brothers meet Quarrels should never come." Dr. Watts |
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Little Dick Snappy Little Dick Snappy Was always unhappy Because he did nothing but fret; And when he once cried, 'Twas in vain that you tried To make him his troubles forget. His mother once brought him A drum, which she bought him Hard by at a neighbouring fair, And gave such another To Edward his brother, And left them their pleasures to share. Little Edward began, Like a nice little man, To play with his little new drum; But Dick, with a pout, Only turned his about In his hands, and looked sulky and glum. "What's the matter, dear Dick? You look sad; are you sick? Come, march like a soldier with me: The enemy comes Let us beat on our drums, And mamma will out merriment see." "No! I don't like my new toy," Said my ill-humoured boy, "And yours is the best and most new; If you'll give me yours, Then I'll go out of doors; But if not, I'll kick mine in two." "Oh no! brother, no— Pray do not say so Of a trifle, in anger and haste; Though they are equally new, Yet my drum I'll give you, But I've tied it in knots round my waist." Then quarrelsome Dick Gave his brother a kick; But he did not give him another, But, saying no more, Edward walked to the door, Only giving one look at his brother. Then, bursting with spite, With his utmost of might Master Dick trod his drum on the floor; The parchment did crack, When lo; Edward comes back, And his drum in his hands then he bore. "The string is untied, Dearest brother," he cried— "So now I with pleasure will change;" But when Dick's drum he found Lying broke on the ground, Oh! how did his countenance change. "I'm really ashamed," Dick, sobbing, exclaimed, "At the difference between you and me; But continue my friend, And I'll try to amend, And a good-tempered fellow to be." |
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Which Shall It Be, Dear? If fretting pays you, fret; And get into a pet, And slam and bang The doors with a whang, And flame and flare, And say "Don't care." And slip round sly, And make the baby cry, And thus get sent to bed, to sob it out. But if it does not pay Why then, my dear, do pray Just do the other thing, And toot and sing, And whistle like a bird. Letting your voice be heard, From morn till night, In echoes bright, Sending the best of cheer into the home. |
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Page 61—Naughtiness Land
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Govern Your Temper Oh, Govern your temper! For music, the sweetest, Was never so sweet— Nor one-half so divine, As a heart kept in tune, Which, the moment thou greetest, Breathes harmony dearer Than notes can combine! Never say it is nature. And may not be cured; One tithe of the time, Which to music we yield Would render the conquest Of temper insured, And bring us more music Than a song e'er revealed. Oh, govern your temper! For roses, the fairest, Were never so fair, Nor so rich in perfume, As the flowers, which e'en thou, Chilly winter sparest— The flowers of the heart, Which unchangingly bloom! Never think it is nature— For oh! if it be, The sooner the spirit Of nature is shown That the spirit of heaven Is higher than she, The sooner, the longer, Will love be our own. |