Suppose the little Breezes,

Upon a summer's day,

Should think themselves too small to cool

The traveller on his way:

Who would not miss the smallest

And softest ones that blow,

And think they made a great mistake
If they were acting so?

How many deed of kindness

A little child can do,

Although it has but little strength

And little wisdom too!

It wants a loving spirit

Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do

For others by its love.

Unknown

THE LION AND THE MOUSE

A LION with the heat oppressed,
One day composed himself to rest:
But while he dozed as he intended,
A mouse, his royal back ascended;
Nor thought of harm, as Æsop tells,
Mistaking him for someone else;

And travelled over him, and round him,
And might have left him as she found him
Had she not-tremble when you hear-
Tried to explore the monarch's ear!

Who straightway woke, with wrath immense,
And shook his head to cast her thence.

"You rascal, what are you about?"
Said he, when he had turned her out,
"I'll teach you soon," the lion said,
"To make a mouse-hole in my head!"
So saying, he prepared his foot
To crush the trembling tiny brute;

The Boy and the Wolf

But she (the mouse) with tearful eye,
Implored the lion's clemency,
Who thought it best at last to give
His little prisoner a reprieve.

'Twas nearly twelve months after this,
The lion chanced his way to miss;
When pressing forward, heedless yet,
He got entangled in a net.

With dreadful rage, he stamped and tore,
And straight commenced a lordly roar;
When the poor mouse, who heard the noise,
Attended, for she knew his voice.

Then what the lion's utmost strength
Could not effect, she did at length;
With patient labor she applied
Her teeth, the network to divide;
And so at last forth issued he,
A lion, by a mouse set free.

Few are so small or weak, I guess,
But may assist us in distress,
Nor shall we ever, if we're wise,
The meanest, or the least despise.

113

Jeffreys Taylor (1792-1853]

THE BOY AND THE WOLF

A LITTLE Boy was set to keep

A little flock of goats or sheep;

He thought the task too solitary,

And took a strange perverse vagary:

To call the people out of fun,

To see them leave their work and run,

He cried and screamed with all his might,-
"Wolf! wolf!" in a pretended fright.

Some people, working at a distance,
Came running in to his assistance.

They searched the fields and bushes round,
The Wolf was nowhere to be found.

The Boy, delighted with his game,
A few days after did the same,
And once again the people came.
The trick was many times repeated,

At last they found that they were cheated.
One day the Wolf appeared in sight,
The Boy was in a real fright,

He cried, "Wolf! wolf!"-the neighbors heard,
But not a single creature stirred.

"We need not go from our employ,-
'Tis nothing but that idle boy."

The little Boy cried out again,

"Help, help! the Wolf!" he cried in vain.
At last his master came to beat him.
He came too late, the Wolf had eat him.

This shows the bad effect of lying,
And likewise of continual crying.
If I had heard you scream and roar,
For nothing, twenty times before,
Although you might have broke your arm,
Or met with any serious harm,

Your cries could give me no alarm;

They would not make me move the faster,
Nor apprehend the least disaster;

I should be sorry when I came,

But you yourself would be to blame.

John Hookham Frere [1769-1846]

THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS, WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP

AUGUSTUS was a chubby lad;

Fat, ruddy cheeks Augustus had;
And everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty, healthy boy.
He ate and drank as he was told,

And never let his soup get cold.

The Story of Little Suck-a-thumb 115

But one day, one cold winter's day,

He screamed out- "Take the soup away!
O take the nasty soup away!

I won't have any soup to-day."

Next day begins his tale of woes;
Quite lank and lean Augustus grows.
Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,
The naughty fellow cries out still—
"Not any soup for me, I say:
O take the nasty soup away!
I won't have any soup to-day."

The third day comes; O what a sin!
To make himself so pale and thin.
Yet, when the soup is put on table,
He screams, as loud as he is able,-
"Not any soup for me, I say:
O take the nasty soup away!

I won't have any soup to-day."

Look at him, now the fourth day's come!

He scarcely weighs a sugar-plum;

He's like a little bit of thread,

And on the fifth day, he was-dead!

From the German of Heinrich Hoffman [1798-1874]

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 scissors out
And cuts their thumbs clean off,—and then,
You know, they never grow again."

Mamma had scarcely turned her back,
The thumb was in, alack! alack!
The door flew open, in he ran,

The great, long, red-legged scissors-man.
Oh, children, see! the tailor's come
And caught our little Suck-a-Thumb.
Snip! snap! snip! the scissors go;
And Conrad cries out- "Oh! oh! oh!"

Snip! snap! snip! They go so fast,
That both his thumbs are off at last.
Mamma comes home; there Conrad stands,
And looks quite sad, and shows his hands;-
"Ah!" said mamma, "I knew he'd come
To naughty little Suck-a-Thumb.”

From the German of Heinrich Hoffman [1798–1874]

WRITTEN IN A LITTLE LADY'S LITTLE ALBUM

HEARTS good and true

Have wishes few

In narrow circles bounded,

And hope that lives

On what God gives

Is Christian hope well founded.

Small things are best;

Grief and unrest

To rank and wealth are given;

But little things

On little wings

Bear little souls to heaven.

Frederick William Faber [1814-1863]

MY LADY WIND

My Lady Wind, my Lady Wind,
Went round about the house to find
A chink to set her foot in;
She tried the keyhole in the door,
She tried the crevice in the floor,

And drove the chimney soot in.