Four Cautionary Tales and a Moral

A Trick that everyone abhors
In little girls is slamming Doors
A wealthy banker's little daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater,
By name Rebecca Offendort,
Was given to the furious sport.
She would deliberately go
And slam the door like Billy-Ho!
To make her Uncle Jacob start.
She was not really bad at heart.

It happened that a marble bust
Of Abraham was standing just
Above the door the little lamb
Had carefully prepared to slam.
And down it came! It knocked her flat!

It laid her out! She looked like that!

Her funeral sermon (which was long
And followed by a sacred song)
Mentioned her virtues, it is true,
But dwelt upon her vices too,
And showed the dreadful end of one
Who goes and slams the door for fun!

There was a boy whose name was Jim:
His friends were very good to him.
They gave him tea, and cakes, and jam,
And slices of delicious ham.
They read him stories through and though,
And even took him to the Zoo-
But there it was the dreadful Fate
Befell him, which I now relate.

You know-at least you ought to know,
For I have often told you so-
That children never are allowed
To leave their nurses in a crowd;
Now this was Jim's especial foible,
He ran away when he was able,
And on this inauspicious day
He slipped his hand and ran away!
He hadn't gone a yard when - bang!
With open jaws, a lion sprang,
And hungrily began to eat
The Boy: beginning at his feet.
Now just imagine how it feels
When first your toes and then your heels
And then by gradual degrees,
Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,
Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.

No wonder Jim detested it!
No wonder that he shouted 'Hi!'
The honest keeper heard his cry,
Though very fat he almost ran
To help the little gentleman.

'Ponto!' he cried, with angry frown
'Let go, sir! Down, sir! Put it down!'

But when he bent him over Jim
The honest keeper's eyes were dim
The lion having reached his head
The miserable boy was dead.

When Nurse informed his parents they
Were more concerned than I can say:-
His mother, as she dried her eyes,
Said, 'Well-it gives me no surprise,
He would not do as he was told!'
His father, who was self-controlled
Bade all the children round attend
To James' miserable end,
And always keep a-hold of Nurse
For fear of finding something worse.

Matilda told such dreadful lies,
It made one gasp and stretch one's eyes;
Her aunt, who, from her earliest youth,
Had kept a strict regard for truth,
Attempted to believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her, 
 ... 
Now once, towards the Close of Day,
 ... 
And finding she was left alone,
Went tiptoe to the telephone
And summoned the Immediate Aid
Of London's noble Fire-Brigade.
 ... 
From Putney, Hackney Downs and Bow,
With courage high and hearts a-glow
They galloped, roaring though the town,
'Matilda's house is burning down!'
 ... 
They ran their ladders through a score
Of windows on the ball-room Floor;
And took peculiar pains to souse
The pictures up and down the house,
Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded
In showing them they were not needed
And even then she had to pay
To get the Men to go away!
It happened that a few weeks later
Her Aunt went off to the Theatre
To see that entertaining Play
'The Second Mrs. Tanqueray.'
 ... 
That night a fire did break out --
You should have heard Matilda Shout!
You should have heard her scream and bawl,
And throw the window up and call
 ... 
But every time she shouted "Fire!"
They only answered "Little liar!"
And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the house, were burned.

The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.

Physicians of the Utmost Fame
Were called at once; but when they came
They answered, as they took their Fees,
"There is no cure for this disease.

"Henry will very soon be dead."
His Parents stood about his Bed
Lamenting his Untimely Death,
When Henry, with his latest Breath,

Cried - "Oh, my Friends, be warned by me,
That Breakfast, Dinner, Lunch and Tea
Are all the Human Frame requires..."
With that the Wretched Child expires.

The nicest child I ever knew
Was Charles Augustus Fortescue.
He never lost his cap, or tore
His stockings or his pinafore:
In eating Bread he made no Crumbs,
He was extremely fond of sums.
And as for finding Mutton-Fat
Unappetising, far from that!
He often, at his Father's Board,
Would beg them, of his own accord,
To give him, if they did not mind,
The Greasiest Morsels they could find -

His Later Years did not belie
The Promise of his Infancy.
In Public Life he always tried
To take a judgment Broad and Wide;
In Private, none was more than he
Renowned for quiet courtesy.
He rose at once in his Career,
And long before his Fortieth Year
Had wedded Fifi, Only Child
Of Bunyan, First Lord Aberfylde.
He thus became immensely Rich
And built a Splendid Mansion which
Is called "The Cedars, Muswell Hill,"
Where he resides in Affluence still
To show what Everybody might
Become by - simply doing right.