Come, let us play,
Said Tommy Gay;
Well, then, What at
Said Simon Pratt;
At trap and ball,
Said Neddy Hall;
Well, so we will,
Said Billy Gill.
For cakes I'll play,
Said Tommy Gay;
I'm one for that,
Said Simon Pratt;
I'll bring them all,
Said Neddy Hall;
And I'll sit still,
Said Billy Gill.
What a hot day,
Said Tommy Gay;
Then let us chat,
Said Simon Pratt;
On yonder hill,
Said Billy Gill;
Aye, one and all,
Said Neddy Hall.
Come with me, pray,
Said Tommy Gay;
Trust me for that,
Said Simon Pratt;
They eat them all,
Gay, Pratt, and Hall;
And all were ill,
But Billy Gill.
[Illustration]
The Little Fish that would not do as it was bid.
Dear mother, said a little Fish,
Pray, is not that a fly?
I'm very hungry, and I wish
You'd let me go and try.
Sweet innocent, the mother cried,
And started from her nook,
That horrid fly is put to hide
The sharpness of the hook!
Now, as I've heard, this little Trout
Was young and foolish too,
And so he thought he'd venture out,
To see if it were true.
And round about the hook he played,
With many a longing look,
And, Dear me, to himself he said
I'm sure, that's not a _hook_.
I can but give one little pluck:
Let's see; and so I will.
So on he went, and lo, it stuck
Quite through his little gill.
And as he faint and fainter grew,
With hollow voice he cried,
Dear mother, if I'd minded you,
I need not now have died.
Thoughtless Julia.
[Illustration]
Julia did in the window stand;
Mama then sitting by,
Saw her put out her little hand,
And try to catch a fly.
O do not hurt the pretty thing,
Her prudent mother said;
Crush not its leg or feeble wing,
So beautifully made.
[Illustration]