Little Dick Snappy
Was always unhappy
Because he did nothing but fret;
And when he once cried,
'Twas in vain that you tried
To make him his troubles forget.
His mother once brought him
A drum, which she bought him
Hard by at a neighbouring fair,
And gave such another
To Edward his brother,
And left them their pleasures to share.
Little Edward began,
Like a nice little man,
To play with his little new drum;
But Dick, with a pout,
Only turned his about
In his hands, and looked sulky and glum.
"What's the matter, dear Dick?
You look sad; are you sick?
Come, march like a soldier with me:
The enemy comes
Let us beat on our drums,
And mamma will out merriment see."
"No! I don't like my new toy,"
Said my ill-humoured boy,
"And yours is the best and most new;
If you'll give me yours,
Then I'll go out of doors;
But if not, I'll kick mine in two."
"Oh no! brother, no--
Pray do not say so
Of a trifle, in anger and haste;
Though they are equally new,
Yet my drum I'll give you,
But I've tied it in knots round my waist."
Then quarrelsome Dick
Gave his brother a kick;
But he did not give him another,
But, saying no more,
Edward walked to the door,
Only giving one look at his brother.
Then, bursting with spite,
With his utmost of might
Master Dick trod his drum on the floor;
The parchment did crack,
When lo; Edward comes back,
And his drum in his hands then he bore.
"The string is untied,
Dearest brother," he cried--
"So now I with pleasure will change;"
But when Dick's drum he found
Lying broke on the ground,
Oh! how did his countenance change.
"I'm really ashamed,"
Dick, sobbing, exclaimed,
"At the difference between you and me;
But continue my friend,
And I'll try to amend,
And a good-tempered fellow to be."
Which Shall It Be, Dear?
If fretting pays you, fret;
And get into a pet,
And slam and bang
The doors with a whang,
And flame and flare,
And say "Don't care."
And slip round sly,
And make the baby cry,
And thus get sent to bed, to sob it out.
But if it does not pay
Why then, my dear, do pray
Just do the other thing,
And toot and sing,
And whistle like a bird.
Letting your voice be heard,
From morn till night,
In echoes bright,
Sending the best of cheer into the home.
[Illustration: I will be Good, Mamma.]
[Page 61--Naughtiness Land]
[Illustration: Quarrelsome Boys.]