As he trudged along to school,
It was always Johnny's rule
To be looking at the sky
Just look at him! there he stands,
With his nasty hair and hands.
See! his nails are never cut;
They are grimed as black as soot;
As he had often done before,
The woolly-headed Black-a-moor
One nice fine summer's day went out
To see the shops, and walk about;
Here is cruel Frederick, see!
A horrid wicked boy was he;
He caught the flies, poor little things,
And then tore off their tiny wings,
'I pray you now, my little child,'
Thus once a kind old lady
Spoke to her niece in accents mild,
'Do try to be more steady.
Now Minnie was a pretty girl,
Her hair so gracefully did curl;
She had a slender figure, too,
And rosy cheeks, and eyes of blue.
'Let me see if Philip can
Be a little gentleman;
Let me see if he is able
To sit still for once at table:'
This is the man that shoots the hares;
This is the coat he always wears:
With game-bag, powder-horn, and gun
He's going out to have some fun.
Oh! how this Mary loved to eat,-
It was her chief delight;
She would have something, sour or sweet,
To munch from morn till night.