Public-domain ebook
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In: Christianity·Children & Young Adult Reading·Religion/Spirituality
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #12007.
The opening · free to read
When I play with little children I must very gentle be; I must always do to others As I'd have them do to me.
I must like to give and lend them, If they want my prettiest toy; More than my delight and pleasure I must love my playmate's joy.
Children who are kind and loving God above is pleased to see; Let me ever this remember, Ever sweet and pleasant be.
THE CAT.
Stop, naughty pussy! that's not fair! Jump down this minute from the chair! You've eaten my nice slice of bread. And here are only crumbs instead.
I for a minute left the room To listen to the "Buy a broom," And now I think it's quite too bad That you my luncheon should have had.
Her mother said, "My dear, if you Had done what you were told to do, And put the plate upon the shelf, You might have had the bread yourself.
"But if you have no thought nor care, And leave your luncheon on a chair, You must not blame poor pussy-cat; She knows no better, dear, than that.
"The one who left her bread about Upon the chair, while she went out,-- The one who hangs her head for shame,-- My little girl's the one to blame!"
STUDY FIRST.
No, Robbie! you can go away; I am not ready yet to play; For I must learn these words to spell, That I may say my lesson well.
How sad our dear mamma would look, To find that I had left my book! And if I disobeyed her so, My play would not be gay, I know.
I'll learn my lesson very soon, And then I'll run with you till noon; So, Robbie, you can go away, And presently I'll come and play.
THE BABY.
We've the dearest baby sister! And so small and sweet is she, That we love to stand beside her, All her cunning ways to see.
She can talk in baby language, She can laugh, and she can crow; She's the pet and she's the darling, She's the sweetest one we know.
Mother says that she will always Be a sweet and gentle child, If, in all our actions towards her, We are loving, good, and mild.
Let us, then, be kind and pleasant Ever to our little pet; Nor to thank the God who gave her, Morn and night, let us forget.
I AM HAPPY WHEN I DO RIGHT.
How glad it makes me feel at night, When sitting on my mother's knee, To hear her whisper "You've done right, And tried my gentle child to be."
But then I feel ashamed and sad If I've been cross and disobeyed, Or if my selfish way I've had When I with other children played.
So if at night I'd call to mind A day of undisturbed delight, The only way that I can find Is to be loving and do right.
THE LITTLE BEGGAR-GIRL.
I've just looked from the window To see the snow come down, And make the streets look nice and white, That lately were so brown.
I've seen a little beggar-girl Go by in all the cold; She had no shoes nor stockings on, Her dress was torn and old.
How thankful I should be to God, Who gives me clothes and food, A nice warm fire, a pleasant home, And parents kind and good!
Mamma, I'll always try to help The hungry and the poor; For those who are not warmed and fed, I pity, I am sure.
"Don't wash me, pray, mamma, today," I once heard little Jennie say, "For oh! so very hard you rub, I never want to see my tub."
"O, very well," her mother said; "I'll put you back again to bed; And you must in your night-gown stay, Nor come down stairs at all to-day."
And then I heard Miss Jennie cry, And beg mamma to let her try; And say, as she had done before, That she'd so naughty be no more.
Her mother turned and left her there; She heard her step upon the stair; But in her chamber, all day long, She staid alone, for doing wrong.
She heard her sister jump and run, And longed to join her in her fun; Her brother made a snow-man high; But she upon her bed must lie.
She heard the merry sleigh-bells ring, And to the door come clattering; But Jennie could not go to ride In night-clothes by her father's side.
And glad was she, as you may guess, The next day to put on her dress; She ran and told her mother then She never would do so again.
THE SPIDER.
Don't kill the spider, little Fred, But come and stand by me, And watch him spin that slender thread, Which we can hardly see.
How patiently, now up, now down, He brings that tiny line! He never stops, but works right on, And weaves his web so fine.
You could not make a thread so small, If you should try all day; So never hurt him, dear, at all, But spare him in your play.
MORNING HYMN.
Now a new day just begun, I'll try to spend it well; That I may have, when eveningcomes, No naughty deeds to tell.
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