Grew long and sharp;
Oh! as sharp as a pin!
And one windy day
She blew away
Like a great big kite
That had gone astray.

The winds were high,
And she had to fly
Away at their bidding;
It made her cry;
But she couldn't get higher
Than the tall church spire,
So there she stuck--
Poor Mopy Maria!

Disobedient May

Naughty May will not obey,
But will always have her way
Every moment of the day.

If you say do this, or that,
She will be amazed thereat,
Show her claws like any cat.

O she is a naughty child!
Very fond of running wild,
Never gentle, meek, or mild.

Some fine day, I don't know when--
She'll be popp'd in piggy's pen,
And be most unhappy then.

Pigs are stubborn things indeed,
Will not go as you would lead,
Never words of counsel heed.

And pig-headed folks are they
Who will always have their way,
Spite of anything you say.

Sluttishness

Oh! Mary, my mary,
Why, where is your dolly?
Look here, I protest, on the floor:
To leave her about
In the dirt so is folly,
You ought to be trusted no more.

I thought you were pleas'd.
And receiv'd her quite gladly,
When on your birthday she came home;
Did I ever suppose
You would use her so sadly,
And strew her things over the room?

Her bonnet of straw
You once thought a great matter,
And tied it so pretty and neat;
Now see how 'tis crumpled,
No trencher is flatter,
It grieves your mamma thus to see't.

Suppose (you're my Dolly,
You know, little daughter,
Whom I love to dress neat, and see good),
Suppose in my care of you,
I were to falter,
And let you get dirty and rude!

But Dolly's mere wood,
You are flesh and bone living,
And deserves better treatment and care;
That is true, my sweet girl,
'Tis the reason I'm giving
This lesson so sharp and severe.

'Tis not for the Dolly
I'm anxious and fearful,
Tho' she cost too much to be spoil'd;
I'm afraid lest yourself
Should get sluttish, not careful,
And that were a sad thing, my child.

Jane, who Bit her Nails

When I was living down in Wales,
I knew a girl who bit her nails;
Her finger-ends became so sore,
The blood flowed from them to the floor.

The more she bit the more they bled,
Until upon herself she fed;
And as she nibbled day by day,
The fingers slowly