LAZY MATILDA
and OTHER TALES

“Oh, grandmamma, I’m reading now,”

The lazy Annie said,

“I do not want to leave my book,

Mayn’t Mary go instead?”

LAZY MATILDA
and OTHER TALES

BY
KATHARINE PYLE
AUTHOR OF “CARELESS JANE AND OTHER TALES,”
“WHERE THE WIND BLOWS,” “FAIRY TALES
FROM MANY LANDS,” ETC.

NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON & CO., INC.

COPYRIGHT, 1921,
BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
All Rights Reserved

CONTENTS

LAZY MATILDA

Matilda’s kind to pussy cat,

It shows her gratitude for that.

“I FEEL ashamed Matilda

To see you such a shirk!

I really think you’d run a mile

To get away from work.”

So spoke Matilda’s mother

Reprovingly one day,

But Mattie only shrugged and sulked

And turned her face away.

Soon mother left her then alone,

The door was open wide.

On tip-toes Mattie crossed the floor,

And gaily ran outside.

She left her room undusted,

She left her bed unmade,

Indeed she really was a shirk

I’m very much afraid.

With joy she gaily scampered

Across the meadows wide,

And chased the pretty butterflies

That flew from side to side.

And on and on she wandered

Until she reached a wood,

And there, deep in the shadows

A little grey house stood.

A dwarf was in the doorway,

The door stood open wide,

A lean and hungry-looking cat

Was mewing just inside.

The old dwarf grinned and beckoned,

“Come in, come in,” cried he;

“I need a little servant maid,

And you will do for me.”

“I have no wish to serve you,”

Matilda quickly cried.

But still the old dwarf beckoned her

And made her step inside.

He made her cook the dinner,

He made her work all day.

He watched her close, and left no chance

For her to run away.

The pussy rubbed about her,

“Meow, meow,” said she.

“I’ve been so starved, please look about

And find some scraps for me.”

“Whatever I may have to eat

I’ll always share with you,”

Matilda cried, “for I can see

One day the dwarf sat smoking

Outside the open door,

While Mattie worked about inside

And scrubbed and swept the floor.

“Matilda,” whispers pussy,

“You’ve served me well each day,

And now the dwarf is safe outside

I’ll help you run away.

“The kitchen door is open,

So now be off,” says she.

“Yes,” Mattie whispers, “but suppose

The dwarf should call to me.”

“You needn’t be afraid of that,”

The clever pussy said,

“For even if by chance he calls

I’ll answer in your stead.”

Now little Mattie’s scarcely gone

Before the old dwarf cries,

“Are you at work?” “I’m kneading bread,”

The pussy cat replies.

The old dwarf smoked and nodded,

But soon again he said,

“Are you at work?” “Oh, yes,” cried puss;

“I’m shaking up the bed.”

Again the old dwarf calls her,

“Now what are you about?”

“I’m waiting here to catch a mouse

If only he’ll come out.”

“What’s that?” the old dwarf bellows.

He bounces from his chair,

He rushes in and quickly sees

That only puss is there.

At once he knows the trick they’ve played.

He catches up the broom,

And chases poor old pussy cat

Around and around the room.

“Good-bye to you,” says pussy,

“Indeed, I’ve had my fill,”

And up she bounds and out she goes

Across the window sill.

“Come back! I will not beat you!

Come back, come back!” cries he.

“If I must lose both maid and cat

What will become of me?”

But pussy does not heed him.

Indeed, she’s far away.

She’s followed little Mattie home

And there she means to stay.

Matilda’s now a useful child,

She never tries to shirk,

But helps, with ready cheerfulness,

At any kind of work.

THE WITCH AND THE TRUANT BOYS

John is cleverer than the old witch

And he has her in a trap.

PETER and John, against the rule,

Are playing truant from their school.

To seek a fishing pool they know.

But see a witch is hiding there—

Oh boys! make haste and hurry past!

And now away with them she hies,

In spite of all their kicks and cries.

And then she drops them on the floor.

“These boys are plump and soft,” says she,

I’ll fill my very biggest pot,

But while her pot she’s getting out,

The frightened Peter looks about.

And into it he jumps to hide;

Then with a bump he shuts the lid.

But the old witch has heard the sound.

She peers about with blinking eyes,

“Where is that other boy?” she cries.

He must be hiding for a trick.”

“You haven’t treated me so well

That you can think I want to tell,

“Maybe you’ll see which way he’s gone.”

The old witch throws the window wide

And leans to look about outside.

John creeps up close without a sound,

And shuts the window on her tight,

’Tis vain for her to kick and bawl,

“Quick, Peter! Bring me from the shelf

Hammer and nails. Bestir yourself.”

Out from the dough-trough Peter springs;

Quickly he fetches John the things.

“Here they are, brother!” Now, tap-tap!

John drives the nails with many a rap.

So tight ’twill hold the old witch fast.

No matter how she squirms and cries,

She can’t get loose howe’er she tries.

To run on home, as you may see.

I’m sure it will be many a day

As for the witch, if she’s stuck tight

THE VISITOR

Children should never eat like this,

Although for pigs ’tis not amiss.

JOHN’S manners at the table

Were very sad to see.

You’d scarce believe a child could act

In such a way as he.

He smacked his lips and gobbled,

His nose down in his plate.

You might have thought that he was starved,

So greedily he ate.

He’d snatch for what he wanted,

And never once say “please,”

Or, elbows on the table,

He’d sit and take his ease.

In vain papa reproved him;

In vain mamma would say,

“You really ought to be ashamed

To eat in such a way.”

One day when lunch was ready,

And John came in from play,

His mother said, “A friend has come

To eat with you to-day.”

“A friend of mine?” cried Johnny,

“Whoever can it be?”

“He’s at the table,” mother said,

“You’d better come and see.”

Into the dining-room he ran.

A little pig was there.

It had a napkin round its neck,

And sat up in a chair.

“This is your friend,” his father cried,

“He’s just a pig, it’s true,

But he might really be your twin,

He acts so much like you.”

“Indeed he’s not my friend,” cried John,

With red and angry face.

“If he sits there beside my chair

I’m going to change my place.”

“No, no,” his father quickly cried,

“Indeed that will not do.

Sit down at once where you belong,

He’s come to visit you.”

Now how ashamed was little John;

But there he had to sit,

And see the piggy served with food,

And watch him gobble it.

“John,” said mamma, “I think your friend

Would like a piece of bread.”

“And pass him the potatoes, too,”

Papa politely said.

The other children laughed at this,

But father shook his head.

“Be still, or leave the room at once;

It’s not a joke,” he said.

“Oh, mother, send the pig away,”

With tears cried little John.

“I’ll never eat that way again

If only he’ll be gone.”

“Why,” said mamma, “since that’s the case,

And you your ways will mend,

Perhaps we’d better let him go.

Perhaps he’s not your friend.”

Now John has learned his lesson,

For ever since that day

He’s lost his piggish manners,

And eats the proper way.

And his papa, and mother too,

Are both rejoiced to see

How mannerly and how polite