 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
JAMES AND THE SHOULDER OF MUTTON.
Young Jem at noon returned from school,
As hungry as could be,
He cried to Sue, the servant-maid,
“My dinner give to me.”
As hungry as could be,
He cried to Sue, the servant-maid,
“My dinner give to me.”
Said Sue, “It is not yet come home;
Besides, it is not late.”
“No matter that,” cries little Jem,
“I do not like to wait.”
Besides, it is not late.”
“No matter that,” cries little Jem,
“I do not like to wait.”
118
Quick to the baker's Jemmy went,
And ask'd, “Is dinner done?”
“It is,” replied the baker's man.
“Then home I'll with it run.”
And ask'd, “Is dinner done?”
“It is,” replied the baker's man.
“Then home I'll with it run.”
“Nay, Sir,” replied he prudently,
“I tell you 'tis too hot,
And much too heavy 'tis for you.”
“I tell you it is not.
“I tell you 'tis too hot,
And much too heavy 'tis for you.”
“I tell you it is not.
“Papa, mamma, are both gone out,
And I for dinner long;
So give it me, it is all mine,
And, baker, hold your tongue.
And I for dinner long;
So give it me, it is all mine,
And, baker, hold your tongue.
“A shoulder 'tis of mutton nice!
And batter-pudding too;
I'm glad of that, it is so good;
How clever is our Sue!”
And batter-pudding too;
I'm glad of that, it is so good;
How clever is our Sue!”
119
Now near the door young Jem was come,
He round the corner turn'd,
But oh, sad fate! unlucky chance!
The dish his fingers burn'd.
He round the corner turn'd,
But oh, sad fate! unlucky chance!
The dish his fingers burn'd.
Now in the kennel down fell dish,
And down fell all the meat:
Swift went the pudding in the stream,
And sail'd along the street.
And down fell all the meat:
Swift went the pudding in the stream,
And sail'd along the street.
The people laugh'd, and rude boys grinned
At mutton's hapless fall;
But though ashamed, young Jemmy cried,
“Better lose part than all.”
At mutton's hapless fall;
But though ashamed, young Jemmy cried,
“Better lose part than all.”
The shoulder by the knuckle seized,
His hands both grasp'd it fast,
And deaf to all their gibes and cries,
He gain'd his home at last.
His hands both grasp'd it fast,
And deaf to all their gibes and cries,
He gain'd his home at last.
120
“Impatience is a fault,” cries Jem,
“The baker told me true;
In future I will patient be,
And mind what says our Sue.”
“The baker told me true;
In future I will patient be,
And mind what says our Sue.”
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |