The poor man’s wife was drinking up
Her coffee in her coffee-cup;
The gun shot cup and saucer through
“O dear!” cried she, “what shall I do?”
There liv’d close by the cottage there
The hare’s own child, the little hare;
And while she stood upon her toes,
The coffee fell and burn’d her nose,
“O dear!” she cried, with spoon in hand,
“Such fun I do not understand.”
6. THE STORY OF LITTLE SUCK-A-THUMB.
One day, Mamma said “Conrad dear,
I must go out and leave you here.
But mind now, Conrad, what I say,
Don’t suck your thumb while I’m away.
The great tall tailor always comes
To little boys that suck their thumbs;
And ere they dream what he’s about,
He takes his great sharp scissars out
And cuts their thumbs clean off,—and then,
You know, they never grow again.”
Mamma had scarcely turn’d her back,
The thumb was in, Alack! Alack!