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[Illustration: Squirrels]
Tittle-Tattle Tales,
Or Fireside Stories.
Before we go to bed at night,
And Nursie takes away the light,
Aunt Grace tells tales to Ted and me,
Such lovely stories, you'll agree,
About a sweet Princess named May,
Who gathered flow'rs one summer day;
Her peacock followed close behind,
He loved her, for she _was_ so kind.
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But when she reached the palace door,
She heard a sudden, dreadful roar,
There stood the dragon, fierce and grim!
Poor May had often heard of him;
And as he roared and lashed his tail,
She shook with fear and grew quite pale,
But then her peacock came in sight,
And rushing up with all his might,
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He pecked the dragon hard and long,
Though small, he was both brave and strong.
And soon, I'm very glad to say,
That horrid dragon went away!
Aunt tells another story then,—
Some nigger boys, there were just ten,
Kept disappearing, one by one,
Until one morning there were none
So then we beg her to be quick,
And tell us of a boy named Dick,
Who was so very, very poor,
Such patched and ragged clothes he wore.
But still he tried to do his best,
And didn't _mean_ to feel distressed,
So went to London town one day,
And had adventures on the way.
A shopman gave him work to do,
He worked so hard, and nicely too,
That he got rich, grew strong and tall,
And was Lord Mayor after all.
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Then Father Christmas, as you know,
On Christmas Eve has far to go,
And once he got in _such_ a state,
For fear that he should be too late,
But Auntie tells how he drove fast,
And filled the stockings up at last,—
And then she kisses me and Ted,
And says—“Now, darlings, go to bed!”
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