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a-bout a-ny afraid Alfred angry apples baby ball beat better Black bled breakfast but-ter-flies called can-not Carter catch caught cheese-rind Chorus coachman cried Davies dear dirty Doctor Dog donkey father fault fish-ponds gamekeepers gave girls give glad Governess heard Hester hole hurt Jane Jemmy Jenny Jones Joneses Kate kittens knew lend let them go LITTLE DICK Little doctor look Lyddy Lyne's Mamma Mary Master meant to hurt mice Miss Lyne morning Mother Tabbyskins Mugginses Nanny Welsh Neddy never nice old mouse old woman PAET pence play playthings Polly poor child pretty rea-dy Sally scold sent shilling sister slate-pencil soon sorry stop at home sure tease tell thim-ble thing thought to-morrow told Tom Carter Tom Smith Tommy took ve-ry walk Watkyns whip Wilkins William Thompson window
Página 15 - Then, Betty, you must come and carry This very foolish little Harry. The little birds are better taught, They go to roosting when they ought ; And all the ducks and fowls, you know, They went to bed an hour ago. The little beggar in the street, Who wanders with his naked feet, And has not where to lay his head, Oh, he'd be glad to go to bed.
Página 30 - DIRTY JIM. THERE was one little Jim, 'Tis reported of him, And must be to his lasting disgrace, That he never was seen With hands at all clean, Nor yet ever clean was his face. His friends were much hurt To see so much dirt, And often they made him quite clean But all was in vain, He got dirty again, And not at all fit to be seen.
Página 11 - ... shining wing ! How dull and dim its closing eyes ! How cold and stiff, and still it lies ! Poor harmless little thing ! It was a lark, and in the sky, In mornings fine, it mounted high, To sing a merry song : Cutting the fresh and healthy air, It whistled out its music there, As light it skimmed along.
Página 11 - tis dead, The shot went through its pretty head, And broke its shining wing! How dull and dim its closing eyes! How cold, and stiff, and still it lies! Poor harmless little thing ! It was a lark, and in the sky, In mornings fine it mounted high, To sing a merry song ; Cutting the fresh and healthy air, It whistled out its music there, As light it skimm'd along.
Página 12 - And then they will with hunger die, All in the bitter air. Poor little bird ! if people knew The sorrows little birds go through, I think that even boys Would never call it sport and fun, To stand and fire a frightful gun, For nothing but the noise.
Página 30 - Tis reported of him, And must be, to his lasting disgrace, That he never was seen With his hands at all clean, Nor yet ever clean was his face. His friends were much hurt To see so much dirt, And often they made him quite clean ; But all was in vain, He was dirty again, And not at all fit to be seen. When to wash he was sent, He reluctantly went, With water to splash himself o'er.
Página 4 - Very wrong, very wrong, Very wrong and bad ; Such a subject for our song Makes us all too sad. Old Mother Tabbyskins, Sticking out her head, Gave a howl, and then a yowl, Hobbled off to bed. Chorus. Very sick, very sick, Very savage too ; Pray send for a doctor quick — Any one will do...
Página 6 - Very nice, very nice Little doctor he, But for Doctor Dog's advice You must pay the fee. Doctor Dog comes nearer, Says she must be bled; I heard Mother Tabbyskins Screaming in her bed. Very near, very near, Scuffling out and in; Doctor Dog looks full and queer — Where is Tabbyskin? I will tell the Moral Without any fuss : Those who lead the young astray Always suffer thus.
Página 5 - Very grand, very grand — Golden-headed cane Swinging gaily from his hand, Mischief in his brain! 'Dear Mother Tabbyskins, And how are you now? Let me feel your pulse — so, so; Show your tongue — bow, wow!