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" Dear Mother Tabbyskins,
And how are you now?
Show your tongue-bow-bow.
Please attempt to purr :
Which do you prefer?"
Who is now afraid ?
You a mouthful made.
Little doctor he;
You must pay the fee.
Says she must be bled;
Screaming in her bed.
Scuffling out and in;
Where is Tabbyskin ?
Without any fuss :
Always suffer thus.
Let our conduct be;
Some are dogs, you see !
JEMMY, why do you tease Tom-my so? He does nothing but cry when you are near him.
Jemmy. Mother, he cries for nothing at all. See, I do but whisk this whip before his face, and he screams, though I do not touch him.
Mother. You forget that little children do not un-der-stand that sort of rough play. He thinks you mean to hurt him.
Jemmy. He is such a baby, he is afraid of every-thing. Why, I pre-tend-ed I was going to throw him into the well—he must know I never meant to kill him, but oh! what a noise he made!
Mother. I fear you do not love poor little Tommy; if you did, you could not find it so pleasant to frighten him.
Jemmy. Oh, indeed, I am very fond of him, and I do like playing with him; he is a nice little boy; but he does scream even if I don't hurt him.
Mother. You told me you were very perfect in your Cat-e-chism. Do you re-mem-ber something in it about doing to others as we would wish to be done by ? Now would you like a great gi-ant of a man to catch you up, or pretend to hurt you, or take your things from you ?
Jemmy. I don't think I should mind ; not much. Please, Mother, do not send me any more to the new school. I am one of the least
boys there, and they do tease me so, I cannot bear it.
Mother. Much as you tease little Tommy, I suppose ?
Jemmy. Oh, much worse. They told me my father was a rat-catcher and gave me ratpie, and when I said it was a story, they laugh-ed at me till I cried.
Mother. Then you were like a baby. What harm could such nonsense do you ?
Jemmy. And then they took my knife away from me, and said I was too young to be trusted with one; I should have it when I was bigger.
Mother. And yet you wond-er-ed at Tommy minding it, when you snatch-ed away his bali. That ball was all the world to him—he cared for nothing but it.
Jemmy. Well, I am sorry I did not try to make Tommy happy, and if you will but let me stay at home, or go to my old school, where I was one of the big fellows, I will be so good.
Mother. But you see it was that very thing, being the top of the school, that made you tor-ment Tommy. You were too much used to doing ex-act-ly as you liked, and I believe you will grow up a better boy if you no longer can be a tyrant.
STOPPING AWAY FROM SCHOOL.
Ann. I am going into the fields to gather some dai-sies to make dai-sy chains to-day. Will you come with me?
Mary. I will come after school, but not now. I want to get to be top of the class, and I cannot do that if I stop away.
Ann. How stupid of you. Who cares who is top of the class ?
Mary. My mo-ther does, ve-ry much, for she wants me to get a place; and af-ter I am a ser-vant I shall not have time for much learn-ing.
Ann. But why do you want to go to service? Do not you like stop-ping at home bet-ter?
Mary. But is it not nice to know how to read ? There are so ma-ny pretty tales in the books they lend us at school, as soon as we can read them.
Ann. I like play bet-ter than a-ny books ; but then I never do get to the top of the class, though I am big-ger than most of them. .
Mary. How can you get to the top if you stay a-way so of-ten?
Ann. Mo-ther lets me do as I like, and I tell you I like play best.
Mary. And yet you told me she beat you so one day, when you came home so wet and dirty from get-ting in-to the pond. Ann. So she did. She gets dread-fully an-gry
some-times about my clothes, and says she can-not af-ford to keep me at home; yet if I can-not read, or write, or do sums, I should get but a poor place.
Master. Tom, bring your slate; you ought to have done your sum by this time. Why, you have not done one stroke. Why is that?
Tom. Please, Sir, I had no slate-pen-cil. I for-got it.
Master. But why did you not ask me for one ?
Tom. Please, Sir, Will Davies said we must not speak.
Master. You must not talk to each other ; but Will Davies and you both know you might ask me for a pencil, and that you must not sit do-ing no-thing all day long.
Tom. Please, Sir, this sum is so hard. I do not know how to do it.
Master. I show-ed you all how to do it today on the black-board ; but did you not look at me?
Tom. Please, Sir, I for-got to look.
Master. I am sor-ry for you, Tom; but I will show you once more, and then you must not have your din-ner till the sum is done. · Will Davies. Please, Sir, Tom beat Polly Wilson, as he came to school, till her nose bled.