As Tommy and his sister Jane
Were walking down a shady lane,
They saw some berries, bright and red,
That hung around and over head.
And soon the bough they bended down
To make the scarlet fruit their own;
And part they ate, and part in play
They threw about and flung away.
But long they had not been at home
Before poor Jane and little Tom
Were taken sick and ill, to bed,
And since, I've heard, they both are dead.
[Illustration]