It must have flown above the guard,
It came so quick and hit so hard;
And, would you think it? raised a blister.
O, how she cried! poor little sister!
Poor thing! I grieved to see it swell.
"What will you put to make it well?"
"Why," said Mamma, "I really think
Some scraped potato, or some ink,
"A little vinegar, or brandy,
Whichever nurse can find most handy:
All these are good, my little daughter,
But nothing's better than cold water."
MARY ANNE'S KINDNESS
How mischievous it was, when Will
Push'd his young sister down the hill,
Then ran away, a naughty boy,
Although he heard her sadly cry!
Their mother, who was walking out,
Saw the rude trick, and heard him shout;
With gentle voice, but angry nod,
She threaten'd Willy with the rod.
But Mary Anne, afraid of this,
Begg'd they might now be friends and kiss:
She said, "Mamma, I feel no pain,
And Willy won't do so again."
Then Willy call'd his sister "good,"
And said he "never, never would."