n Sally sat up and half opened her eyes,
And gave both a grunt and a groan;
And yawning she said, in a quarrelsome voice,
"I wish you would let me alone."

But though she was lazy, she always could eat,
And wished for a plentiful share,
So tumbled her clothes on, and smeared her white face,
Forgetting her hands and her hair.

Her frock was all crumpled and twisted away,
Her hair was entangled and wild,
Her stockings were down and her shoes were untied,
She looked a most slovenly child.

She sauntered about till the old village clock
Had sounded and then died away,
Before she put on her torn bonnet and went
To school without further delay.

But soon as she came to the little cake shop,
She loitered with lingering eyes,
Just wishing that she had a penny to spend,
For one of the pretty jam pies.

Again she went on, and she loitered again
In the same foolish way as before,
And the clock in the school was just warning for ten,
As she lifted the latch of the door.

The governess frowned as she went to her place,
She had often so spoken in vain,
And now only said, with a sorrowful sigh,
"There's Sally the latest again!"

She hated her reading, and never would write,
She neither could cypher nor sew,
And little girls whispered, "We never will be
So silly as Miss Sally Slow."

Girl who Wouldn't Comb her Hair

I tell you of a little girl, who would herself have been,
As pretty a young lady as ever could be seen,
But that about her little head she had no cleanly care.
And never, never could be made to brush and comb her hair.

She would have been a pretty child,
But, oh! she was a fright--
She looked just like a girl that's wild,
Yes, quite as ugly, quite;
She looked just like a girl that's wild--
A frightful ugly sight.

The Nasty, Cross Girls

The school was closed one afternoon,
And all the girls were gone;
Some walked away in company,
And some walked on alone.

Some plucked the flowers upon the banks,
Some chatted very fast,
And some were talking secretly,
And whispered as you passed.

And if, perchance, a girl came near,
Then one of these would say,
"Don't listen to our secrets, Miss,
You'll please to go away."

As Nelly White ran home from school,
Her work-bag in her hand,
She chanced to pass near Lucy Bell,
And h