The Wrong Story.

"My little Edward, how could you
Tell me a thing that was not true?
And make me feel thus grieved and sad
To find I have a child so bad?

"And then, to do a deed so mean,
And wish by that yourself to screen!
Would you have had me blame poor Tray,
And send him from the fire away?

"O! never, when you've disobeyed,
Or by your mischief trouble made,
Think that a wicked act is right
Because you hide it from my sight.

"It will be always seen by One,
Who knows each wrong that you have done;
And I shall know it too, no doubt,
For sin must always find you out.

"I cannot let you here to-day
With me and little sisters stay;
But you must go up stairs alone,
Till you a better boy have grown."

H. P. Nichols

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H. P. Nichols

Sunday Night.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

The Angels.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

The Ark And The Dove.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

The Story Of Moses.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

English

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The Child Who Would Not Be Washed

"Don't wash me, pray, mamma, today,"
I once heard little Jennie say,
"For oh! so very hard you rub,
I never want to see my tub."

"O, very well," her mother said;
"I'll put you back again to bed;
And you must in your night-gown stay,
Nor come down stairs at all to-day."

And then I heard Miss Jennie cry,
And beg mamma to let her try;
And say, as she had done before,
That she'd so naughty be no more.

Her mother turned and left her there;
She heard her step upon the stair;
But in her chamber, all day long,
She staid alone, for doing wrong.

She heard her sister jump and run,
And longed to join her in her fun;
Her brother made a snow-man high;
But she upon her bed must lie.

She heard the merry sleigh-bells ring,

H. P. Nichols

The Bird's Nest.

What is Harry thinking of,
    Sitting on that mossy stone?
All his brothers are at play;
    Why is he so still and lone?

He is musing earnestly;
    And the flutterings of the bird
And its pleading, feeble chirp
    Fall upon his ear unheard.

Well may little Harry think!
    From the pear-tree's withered bough
He has brought the pretty nest,
    Placed within his hat-crown now.

That is why he sits alone;
    And he hears a voice within,
Louder than the Robin's note,
    Crying, "Harry, this is sin!"

Then put back the nest, my boy,
    So you will be glad and free,
Nor will hasten by in shame,
    When you pass that withered tree.

H. P. Nichols

How The Babes In The Wood Showed They Couldn't Be Beaten

A man of kind and noble mind
Was H. Gustavus Hyde.
'Twould be amiss to add to this
At present, for he died,
In full possession of his senses,
The day before my tale commences.

One half his gold his four-year-old
Son Paul was known to win,
And Beatrix, whose age was six,
For all the rest came in,
Perceiving which, their Uncle Ben did
A thing that people said was splendid.

For by the hand he took them, and
Remarked in accents smooth:
"One thing I ask. Be mine the task
These stricken babes to soothe!
My country home is really charming:
I'll teach them all the joys of farming."

One halcyon week they fished his creek,
And watched him do the chores,
In haylofts hid, and, shouting, slid
Down sloping cellar doors:--
Beca...

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Little Boy Bad And Little Girl Rude

My nurse she tells me stories, too,
To make me good, she says; but I
She scares me so! I want to cry:
And if my father ever knew,
I guess he'd make things pretty hot,
And show her that she'd better not.

Last night I could n't sleep, because
She scared me with a story; yes,
Because I had been bad, I guess,
And said I hated Santa Claus
And everything: and then she told
This story that just made me cold:

I.

Little Boy Bad, a way he had
Of making his father and mother mad;
Until one day he ran away
To a wood where the cats of the witches stay.
And there he tarried awhile to play,
For a little while in the witches' way.

II.

When night drew nigh he heard a cry,
And in every bush he saw an eye.
Then, three b...

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The Story Of Romping Polly

"I pray you now, my little child,"
Thus once a kind old lady
Spoke to her niece in accents mild,
"Do try to be more steady.
I know that you will often see
Rude boys push, drive, and hurry;
But little girls should never be
All in a heat and flurry."


While thus the lady gave advice
And lectured little Polly,
To see her stand with downcast eyes,
You'd think she'd owned her folly.
She did, and many a promise made;
But when her aunt departed,
Forgetting all, the silly maid
Off to the playground started.


Now see what frolic and what fun,
The little folks are after;
Away they jump, away they run,
With many a shout and laughter.


But fools who never will be taught,
Except by some disaster,
Soon find thei...

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The Meddlesome Child.

Little Lucy was left in the room once alone,
    Where the table was set out for tea;
She looked all around, and she thought to herself
    That no one was there who could see.

Then she climbed on a chair and took off the top
    Of the sugar-bowl, shining and bright;
And there were the lumps of the sugar she loved,
    All looking so nice and so white!

Then she said to herself, "Mamma never will know,
    If I take away only just one;"
So she took it, and ate it;--it tasted so good,
    She thought, "But one more, and I've done."

But while she was reaching her hand out for more,
    The chair slipped away from her feet;
And poor little Lucy soon wished much that she
    Had not taken the sugar so sweet:

For her head struck the floor, a...

H. P. Nichols