Tales in Verse for Young People :: :: University of Virginia Library

Peter.—
Zedekiah, come here!

Zedekiah.—
Well now, what's the matter?

Peter.—
Look at my hat; the more I set it right, it only gets the flatter.

Zedekiah.—
Why, Peter, what's come to your hat? I never saw such a thing.

Peter.—
I've had nothing but ill-luck to-day; I did this with the swing;
I've been tossed into the apple-tree just as if I were a ball,
And though I caught hold of a bough, I've had a terrible fall;
I'm sure I should have cracked my skull, had it not been for my hat.
You may see what a fall it was, for the crown's quite flat;

And it will never take its shape again, do all that ever I may!

Zedekiah.—
Never mind it, Peter! Put it on your head, and come along, I say.

Peter.—
Nay, I shall not. I shall sit down under this tree;
I've had nothing but ill-luck to-day. Come, sit down by me,
And I'll tell you all, Zedekiah, for I feel quite forlorn;
Oh dear! oh dear! I'm lamed now!—I've sat down upon a thorn!

Zedekiah.—
Goodness' sake, Peter! be still—what a terrible bellow!
One would think you'd sat on a hornet's nest; sit down, my good fellow.

Peter.—
I'll be sure there are no more thorns here before I sit down;
Pretty well of one thorn at a time, Master Zedekiah Brown!
There, now, I think this seat is safe and easy—so now you must know
I was fast asleep at breakfast-time; and you'll always find it so,
That if you begin the day ill, it will be ill all the day.

Well, when I woke, the breakfast-things were clattering all away;
And I know they had eggs and fowl, and all sorts of good things;
But then none may partake who are in bed when the morning-bell rings;
So, sadly vexed as I was, I rolled myself round in bed,
And, as “breakfast is over, I'll not hurry myself,” I said;
So I just got into a nice little doze, when in came my mother;
And “For shame, Peter,” she said, “to be a-bed now! well, you can't go with your brother!”
Then out of the door she went, without another word;
And just then a sound of wheels and of pawing horses' hoofs I heard;
So I jumped up to the window to see what it was, and I declare
There was a grand party of fine folks setting off somewhere:
There was my brother, mounted on the pony so sleek and brown;
And Bell in her white frock, and my mother in her satin gown;

And my father in his best, and two gentlemen beside;
And I had never heard a word about it, either of drive or ride!
I really think it was very queer of them to set off in that way—
If I'd only known overnight, I'd have been up by break of day!
As you may think, I was sadly vexed, but I did not choose to shew it,
So I whistled as I came down stairs, that the servants might not know it;
Then I went into the yard, and called the dog by his name,
For I thought if they were gone, he and I might have a good game;
But I called and called, and there was no dog either in this place or th' other;
And Thomas said, “Master Peter, Neptune's gone with your brother.”
Well, as there was no dog, I went to look for the fox,
And sure enough the chain was broke, and there was no creature in the box;
But where the fellow was gone nobody could say,

He had broken loose himself, I suppose, and so had slipped away;
I would give anything I have but to find the fox again—
And was it not provoking, Zedekiah, to lose him just then?

Zedekiah.—
Provoking enough. Well, Peter, and what happened next?

Peter.—
Why, when I think of it now, it makes me quite vexed;
I went into the garden, just to look about
To see if the green peas were ready, or the scarlet-lychnis come out;
And there, what should I clap my eyes on but the old sow
And seven little pigs making a pretty row!
And of all places in the world, as if for very spite,
They had gone into my garden, and spoiled and ruined it quite!
The old sow, she had grubbed up my rosemary and old man by the root,
And my phlox and my sunflowers, and my holly-hocks, that were black as soot;
And every flower that I set store on was ruined for ever;
I never was so mortified in all my life—never!

Zedekiah.—
You sent them off, I should think, with a famous swither!

Peter.—
Grunting and tumbling one over the other, I cared not whither.
Well, as I was just then standing, grieving over the ruin,
I heard Thomas call, “Master Peter, come and see what the rats have been doing—
They've eaten all the guinea-pigs' heads off!”

Zedekiah.—
Oh, Peter, was it true?

Peter.—
Away I ran, not knowing what in the world to do!—
And there—I declare it makes me quite shudder to the bone—
Lay all my pretty little guinea-pigs as dead as a stone!
“It's no manner of use,” says Thomas, “setting traps; for you see
They no more care for a trap than I do for a pea;
I'll lay my life on't, there are twenty rats now down in that hole,
And we can no more reach 'em than an under-ground mole!”
I declare, Zedekiah, I never passed such a day before—not I;
It makes me quite low-spirited, till I am ready to cry.

All those pretty guinea-pigs, and I've nothing left at all,
Only the hawk, and I've just set his cage on the wall.

Zedekiah.—
Hush! hush, now! for Thomas is saying something there.

Peter.—
What d' ye say, Thomas?

Thomas.—
The hawk's soaring in the air!
The cage-door was open, and he's flown clean away!

Peter.—
There now, Zedekiah, is it not an unfortunate day?
I've lost all my favourites—I've nothing left at all,
And my garden is spoiled, and I've had such a dreadful fall!
I wish I had been up this morning as early as the sun,
And then I should have gone to Canonley, nor have had all this mischief done!
I'm sure it's quite enough to make me cry for a year—
Let's go into the house, Zedekiah; what's the use of sitting here?