THE DREADFUL STORY OF PAULINE AND THE MATCHES
Mamma and Nurse went out one day,
And left Pauline alone at play;
Around the room she gayly sprang,
Clapp'd her hands, and danced, and sang.
Now, on the table close at hand,
A box of matches chanced to stand,
And kind Mamma and Nurse had told her,
That if she touched them they would scold her.
But Pauline said, “Oh, what a pity!
For when they burn it is so pretty;
They crackle so, and spit, and flame;
And Mamma often burns the same.
I'll only light a match or two
As I have often seen my mother do.”
When Minz and Maunz, the cats, heard this,
They said, “Oh, naughty, naughty Miss.
Me-ow!” they cried, “Me-ow, me-o,
You'll burn to death, if you do so.
Mamma forbids it, don't you know?”
But Pauline would not take advice,
She lit a match, it was so nice!
It crackled so, it burned so clear,—
Exactly like the picture here.
She jumped for joy and ran about,
And was too pleased to put it out.
When Minz and Maunz, the cats, saw this,
They said, “Oh, naughty, naughty Miss!”
And rais'd their paws
And stretch'd their claws;
“'Tis very, very wrong, you know;
Me-ow, me-o, me-ow, me-o!
You will be burnt if you do so.
Mamma forbids it, don't you know?”
Now see! oh, see! a dreadful thing!
The fire has caught her apron string:
Her apron burns, her arms, her hair;
She burns all over, everywhere.
