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THE PLUM-CAKE.

Oh! I've got a plum-cake, and a fine feast I'll make,
So nice to have all to myself!
I can eat every day while the rest are at play,
And then put it by on the shelf.”
Thus said little John, and how soon it was gone!
For with zeal to his cake he applied,
While fingers and thumbs, for the sweetmeats and plums,
Were hunting and digging beside.

84

But, woeful to tell, a misfortune befell,
That shortly his folly reveal'd,
After eating his fill, he was taken so ill,
That the cause could not now be conceal'd.
As he grew worse and worse, the doctor and nurse,
To cure his disorder were sent;
And rightly you'll think, he had physic to drink,
Which made him sincerely repent.
And while on the bed he roll'd his hot head,
Impatient with sickness and pain,
He could not but take this reproof from his cake,
“Do not be such a glutton again.”