Mamma, a little girl I met,
Had such a scar, I can't forget!
All down her arms and neck and face;
I could not bear to see the place.
Poor little girl! and don't you know
The shocking trick that made her so?
'Twas all because she went and did
A thing her mother had forbid.
For once, when nobody was by her,
This silly child would play with fire;
And long before her mother came,
Her pinafore was all in flame.
In vain she tried to put it out,
Till all her clothes were burnt about;
And then she suffer'd ten times more,
All over with a dreadful sore.
For many months before 'twas cured,
Both day and night the pain endured;
And still you see, when passing by her,
How sad it is to play with fire.