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Mrs. Turner's Cautionary Stories Part 5

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Which, when the little lady heard, She did not say another word.

THE TWO PATIENTS

Miss Lucy Wright, though not so tall, Was just the age of Sophy Ball, But I have always understood Miss Sophy was not half so good: For as they both had faded teeth, Their teacher sent for Doctor Heath, But Sophy made a dreadful rout, And would not have hers taken out; But Lucy Wright endured the pain, Nor did she ever once complain.

Her teeth return'd quite sound and white, While Sophy's ached both day and night.

f.a.n.n.y'S BAD HABIT

f.a.n.n.y Fletcher is forgetful, Never wilful in her life, Neither obstinate nor fretful, Loving truth and shunning strife.

From a girl of so much merit, May we not in time expect She will show a proper spirit _One_ wrong habit to correct?

Friends will say it is a pity If her resolution fails-- f.a.n.n.y looks both good and pretty When she does not bite her nails!

SARAH'S DANGER

Those who saw Miss Sarah gaping In the middle of the day, This remark were often making On this dull and drowsy way:

"Half asleep, and yet she's waken!

If, poor child, she is not sick, Some good method must be taken To correct this idle trick."

THE HOYDEN

Miss Agnes had two or three dolls and a box To hold all her bonnets and tippets and frocks; In a red leather thread-case that snapp'd when it shut, She had needles to sew with and scissors to cut; But Agnes liked better to play with rude boys Than work with her needle, or play with her toys.

Young ladies should always appear neat and clean, Yet Agnes was seldom dress'd fit to be seen.

I saw her one morning attempting to throw A very large stone, when it fell on her toe: The boys, who were present and saw what was done, Set up a loud laugh, and they call'd it fine fun.

But I took her home, and the doctor soon came, And Agnes, I fear, will a long time be lame: As from morning till night she laments very much, That now when she walks she must lean on a crutch; And she told her dear father, a thousand times o'er, That she never will play with rude boys any more.

_Note._--"Hoyden" is not used now. We say "Tomboy."

THE GIDDY GIRL

Miss Helen was always too giddy to heed What her mother had told her to shun, For frequently over the street in full speed She would cross where the carriages run.

And out she would go to a very deep well, To look at the water below; How naughty! to run to a dangerous well, Where her mother forbade her to go!

One morning, intending to take but one peep, Her foot slipp'd away from the ground: Unhappy misfortune! the water was deep, And giddy Miss Helen was drown'd.

A WARNING TO FRANCES

As Frances was playing and turning around, Her head grew so giddy she fell to the ground; 'Twas well that she was not much hurt; But, O what a pity! her frock was so soil'd That had you beheld the unfortunate child, You had seen her all cover'd with dirt.

Her mother was sorry, and said, "Do not cry, And Mary shall wash you, and make you quite dry, If you'll promise to turn round no more."

"What, not in the parlour?" the little girl said.

"No, not in the parlour; for lately I read Of a girl who was hurt with the door.

"She was playing and turning, until her poor head Fell against the hard door, and it very much bled; And I heard Dr. Camomile tell That he put on a plaster and cover'd it up, Then he gave her some tea that was bitter to sup, Or perhaps it had never been well."

PLAYING WITH FIRE

The friends of little Mary Green Are now in deep distress, The family will soon be seen To wear a mournful dress.

It seems, from litter on the floor, She had been lighting straws, Which caught the muslin frock she wore, A sad event to cause.

Her screams were loud and quickly heard, And remedies applied, But all in vain, she scarcely stirr'd Again, before she died!

HOW TO HEAL A BURN

O, we have had a sad mishap!

As Clara lay in Nurse's lap, Too near the fire the chair did stand-- A coal flew out and burnt her hand.

It must have flown above the guard, It came so quick and hit so hard; And, would you think it? raised a blister.

O, how she cried! poor little sister!

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