He wriggled off behind a stone and hid himself from sight—
Oh, what a naughty thing to do!
And went to sleep as if it were the middle of the night—
I wouldn't do like that, would you?
He dreamt of stealing linties' eggs and sucking them quite dry—
Oh, what a greedy thing to dream!
And then he dreamt that he had wings and knew the way to fly—
Ah, what a pleasure that would seem!
By came a collie dog and said, "What have we here?
Oh, it's a horrid little Snake!"
He bark'd at him and woke him up and fill'd him full of fear—
Ah, how his heart began to quake!
How the Serpent got away he really didn't know—
Oh, what a dreadful fright he got!
But he hurried all the way to school as hard as he could go,
Dusty and terrified and hot.
As into school he wriggled, they were putting books away—
"Oh," says the master, "is it you?
Stand upon that stool, sir, while the others go to play;
That's what a truant has to do."
Henry Johnstone.
The Melancholy Pig
There was a Pig, that sat alone,
Beside a ruined Pump.
By day and night he made his moan:
It would have stirred a heart of stone
To see him wring his hoofs and groan,
Because he could not jump.
Lewis Carroll.