Selfish Edith
Selfish Edith, not to give
Her sister one, when she has two!
I wouldn't and I couldn't love
A selfish girl like her, could you?
Hear Bessie ask in plaintive tone,
"Please, Edith, let me play with one!"
While naughty Edith shakes her head:
I fear she'll have but little fun
With toys unshared so selfishly;
But when she tires of lonely play,
Perhaps she'll secretly resolve
To be more kind another day.
Hoggish Henry
Oh! Henry eats like any pig;
He drives his mother mad.
She scolds. He does not care a fig,
It's really very sad.
She says: "Your sister, little dear,
Is always clean and neat;
And though she's younger by a year,
How nicely she can eat."
It's all in vain. He does not care;
He's shocking to behold.
The table-cloth and napkin there
Are smeared in every fold.
Upon the floor, crumbs thickly lie,
As though for chickens laid,
Around his mouth and nose, oh fie!
Is dirt of every shade.
He looks, bedaubed with smear and stain,
Just like some savage wild,
His hands as forks are used, it's plain.
For shame! You dirty child!
Selfishness
Look at the selfish man! see how he locks
Tight in his arms his mortgages and stocks!
While deeds and titles in his hand he grasps,
And gold and silver close around he clasps.
But not content with this, behind he drags
A cart well-laden with ponderous bags;
The orphan's wailings, and the widow's woe
From mercy's fountain cause no tears to flow;
He pours no cordial in the wounds of pain;
Unlocks no prison, and unclasps no chain;
His heart is like the rock where sun nor dew
Can rear one plant or flower of heavenly hue.
No thought of mercy there may have its birth,
For helpless misery or suffering worth;
The end of all his life is paltry pelf,
And all his thoughts are centred on—himself:
The wretch of both worlds; for so mean a sum,
First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come.

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Page 66—Lying Land

Bad Boy having broken a Vase told his Mother that the Dog did it, but when his Mother was going to beat the poor Innocent Dog he felt sorry, and told the truth.
Truthful Dottie; Or The Broken Vase
Nellie and Dottie
Both here mamma say,
"Pray from the drawing-room
Keep away.
Don't take your toys there,
Lest someone should call:
Run out in the garden
With rope, bat and ball."
The garden is lovely,
This bright summer day;
But Nellie and Dottie
Too soon came away.
Into the drawing-room
Dottie comes skipping,
With her new rope
All the furniture flipping:
Down goes the tall vase,
So golden and gay,
Smashed all to pieces,
"What will mamma say?"
Cries Nell with her hands raised,
"Oh Dottie, let's run;
They'll think it was pussy,
Who did it in fun."
Dot answers, through big tears,
"But, Nell, don't you see,
Though nobody watched us,
God knows it was me.
Mamma always says,
That, whatever we do,
The harm's not so great,
If we dare to be true.
So I'll go up and tell her
It caught in my rope;
Perhaps she won't scold much,
At least, so I'll hope."
"That's right!" cries her mother,
Who stands by the door,
"I would rather have ten vases
Were smashed on the floor
Than my children should once break
The bright words of truth,
The dearest possession
Of age or of youth.
The vase can be mended,
And scarce show a crack,
But a falsehood once spoken
Will never come back."
However much grieved for
By young folks or old,
An untruth once uttered,
Forever is told.