The infant moralist

THE
                             INFANT MORALIST

                                   BY
                          LADY HELENA CARNEGIE
                                   AND
                            MRS ARTHUR JACOB


                                EDINBURGH
                   R. GRANT & SON, 107 PRINCES STREET
                       LONDON: R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON
                                  1903




[Illustration]




                           CRUELTY TO ANIMALS


    How, George! you’re in Disgrace once more,
    What’s this? a tearful Eye,
    The tell-tale Feathers on the Floor,
    Show me the Reason why.

    Why did you free Amelia’s Bird
    Where Harriet’s Tabby pounced?
    You selfish Boy, upon my Word
    I’ll have you soundly trounced.

    Your little Cousin’s Tears now see:
    Her pretty Songster’s dead;
    A Child so mischievous must be
    Chastis’d, and sent to Bed.




                           INSENSATE MISCHIEF


    What a Commotion in the Town!
    Now has the Steeple fallen down?
      Some strange Event occurr’d?
    Fresh Tidings of the War in France,
    Or News of dire Import, perchance,
      The Mayor may have heard.
    See how the People run and point!
    The Butcher, laden with a Joint,
      Is brandishing his Knife;
    The Chandler, with a Pot of Lard,
    In tumbling from the Farrier’s Yard,
      Upsets the Baker’s Wife.
    The Parson hurries up the Street,
    His Shoes half on, half off his Feet,
      His Surplice flies behind,
    And knocking ’gainst the Apple Stall,
    Of Widow Clarke, the Apples fall,
      He does not seem to mind!
    Here comes the Guardian of the Laws!
    Pray, tell us, Officer, the Cause
      Of this tumultuous Scene?
    Why, I declare, the Reason’s found,
    ’Tis Master Percy, I’ll be bound,
      At Mischief who has been.
    How say you? that an Hour too Fast
    He set the Town Hall Clock; and last,
      On further Mischief bent,
    Upon the Belfry Tower he climbed
    And all the Bells he loudly chimed
      Confusion to augment.
    But Retribution’s fatal Sword
    No long Delay will e’er afford
      And soon did Percy smite.
    His Footing slipp’d, some Time he hung
    To treach’rous Roofs, but vainly clung
      And fell a giddy Height.
    And now upon a Couch of Pain
    He lies with shattered Bones and Brain;
      But, Pity tho’ we feel,
    We all should strive to realise
    That those whose Actions are not Wise
      From Fate have no Appeal.




[Illustration]




                            CHARITABLE LOUISA


    Now Goody Brown and Widow Bond
    Live in a Cottage near the Pond,
      And so, Louisa, you
    Must now this little Basket take
    And put in it a Loaf, a Cake,
      A Pound of Sugar too.

    Nay! do not frown, ’tis surely good
    That we the Agêd succour should?
      Your Shawl and Bonnet don,
    See, with you faithful Ponto comes,
    Perhaps a liking for the Crumbs
      Has urg’d him to go on.

    So onward trips the little Maid,
    All smiling sweet, and unafraid
      Of Gipsies, Tramps and Cows.
    Then back she comes, while Goody stands
    And raising up her wither’d Hands
      Calls down her Prayers and Vows.




                                CREDULITY


    What Consternation fills the Hall!
    Young Master Frank is miss’d;
    All Day for him they seek and call
    Nor through the Night desist.

    Repeatedly had Frank been warned
    The Gipsies’ Camp to shun,
    For Truth and Cleanliness they scorned
    And left good Deeds undone.

    Alas for Frank! the Gipsy Queen
    Had met him by the Stile,
    With Tales of Fortune she’d foreseen
    She did the Youth beguile.

    “I’ll crown you King, and you shall ride
    In golden Coach,” said she,
    “You’ll ne’er repent if you decide
    To follow Gipsy Lee.”

    The foolish boy went off to roam
    In search of Wealth and Fame,
    And all forgot were Friends and Home
    To his eternal Shame.

    And now with limping Feet he toils
    Behind the Caravans,
    With Tinker’s Tools his Hand he soils
    And sells both Pots and Pans.

    His Parents fond their Son with Tears
    Distractedly deplore:
    They sought him o’er the World for Years,
    But saw him nevermore.




[Illustration]




                        THE CONSEQUENCES OF GREED


    Why, Edward! why this Cry of Pain?
    This Jacket all besmirched?
    Your strict Papa I’ll call again
    And have you soundly birched.

    This pastry, that indulgent Cook
    Had filled for you with Jam,
    With hasty Greed, and envious Look
    You down your Throat did cram.

    Now Gluttons! pray attend to me:
    I’ll send for Doctor Bell,
    A Child with Appetite too free
    He always doses well.




                                PROFANITY


    A Sailor of the name of Park
    Gave Nurse a Parrot gay;
    I think I heard the Man remark
    It came from Paraguay.

    How strange a Sight in distant Lands,
    Where Wonders meet the Eye,
    To see the Works of Nature’s Hands
    From ev’ry Tree-top fly.

    But Oh! with Shame and Sorrow both,
    I scarce can lisp the Tale,
    Its brutal Jest and hideous Oath
    My infant Cheek turn’d pale.

    Alas! when all is bright and fair
    That Wickedness should lurk,
    Those sinful Words that filled the Air
    Were Man’s ignoble work.

    Nurse screamed aloud, the Sailor ran,
    The Bird spoke yet more plain;
    Oh! how I hope the shameless Man
    Will not come back again.

    How very careful we should be
    ’Mong those alone to move
    Who shunning, fly Profanity,
    And who our Hearts approve.




[Illustration]




                                  ENVY


    Why, Ellen, such a pouting Face
    Is quite against the Rule:
    I fear you have incurr’d Disgrace,
    Or done amiss at School.

    What! Lucy Elton’s rich Pelisse
    Your envious Thoughts inspire?
    And Fanny Jones disturbs your Peace
    When dress’d in gay Attire?

    You foolish Child, did you but know
    The Way their Wealth was gained
    Your Cheeks with honest Shame would glow
    While youthful Life remained.

    For Lucy’s Father robb’d a Bank,
    And Fanny’s Sire a Church:
    Far from such Wealth you Heav’n may thank
    Your Name can None besmirch.




                            THE SCHOOL FEAST


    Now Lady Emma at the Grange
    A School Feast has at Heart,
    And very kindly does arrange
    That we shall all take Part.

    Maria, to avert the Cold,
    Her velvet Spencer wears,
    And little Jane, of five Years old,
    A Sun-shade gravely bears.

    Edward, and Charles, and Sister Fan
    In Joy their Accents raise,
    And William Fry, the Garden man,
    Puts Dobbin in the Chaise.

    Papa assumes the Reins’ control,
    Mama her Shawl, and so
    Crack goes the Whip, the Wheels they roll,
    And now, away we go!

    How happy we, with Parents kind
    And Clothes so clean and neat:
    Oh! may we always bear in Mind
    ’Twas Virtue earn’d this Treat.




                                 COURAGE


    Mervyn and Charles and little Ann
    Rose early from their Rest;
    Who should be First, as out they ran,
    They joyfully contest.

    Mervyn was Senior by one Year
    To Charles, whose Summers six
    Exceeded Ann’s, it would appear,
    By Two, and Seven Weeks.

    Among the Flowers that smell so sweet
    They pluck’d a Posy gay,
    To give Mama a pleasant Treat
    Upon her Natal Day.

[Illustration]

    But oh! from off a blooming Rose
    Ann gather’d with Delight,
    A cruel Wasp upon her Nose
    Did suddenly alight.

    She loudly scream’d, and Mervyn seiz’d
    The Insect in his Clasp,
    Nor loosed his Hold ere it was squeez’d
    And crush’d within his Grasp.

    Though painful Stings his Hand inflam’d
    He did not Cry nor Quail,
    And kind Mama with Pride exclaim’d
    When Charles told her the Tale.

    Such Youths grow up as Soldiers brave,
    Or Sailors bold and free;
    And thus Britannia’s Flag shall wave
    Supreme on every Sea.




                             HEARTLESS FOLLY


    Pray, Richard, do you think it right
    To act as you did Tuesday Night
      And make of Age a Mock?
    The Admiral, whose Legs you tied
    Whilst he was sitting by my side,
      Is indisposed from Shock.

    As he fell prone upon the Floor
    I saw you spying through the Door
      With pert and shameless Smile;
    His Daughters kind, who tend his Couch,
    With one accord do freely vouch
      They marked your Purpose vile.

    E’en barbarous Turk or Cariboo,
    Or poor idolatrous Hindoo
      Before such Act would pause;
    What should you feel if Admiral Bligh
    Were taken from us to the Sky
      And you should be the Cause?

    Oh! wretched Boy, Elisha’s Bears
    May even now be on the Stairs
      Your Punishment to give:
    For those the Aged who offend
    Are like to come to fearful End,
      Or else in Chains to live.




[Illustration]




                               POLITENESS


    What! do I apprehend aright,
    My Boy, my Herbert impolite?
      Oh say! oh say not so.
    I did not see you doff your Hat
    To Lady Charlotte Merton, that
      Is not genteel you know.

    See how polite young Frankie hies
    To ope the Door for General Wyse,
      And take from him his Cane.
    In later times, when Frank’s extoll’d,
    Your Manner, deemed uncouth and bold,
      Will give you bitter Pain.




                       THE RESULT OF HEEDLESSNESS


    Behold that speechless, aged Dame
    Who totters on the Arm
    Of Thomas Brown, his sturdy Frame
    Supporting her from Harm.

    Sad is the Tale that I must tell,
    The Cause that struck her Dumb,
    For to the Shock which her befell
    She nearly did succumb.

    Her Nephew Paul a little Mouse
    Within the Barn had caught,
    And in his Pocket to the House
    The tiny Creature brought.

    How wrong was Paul, for with Dismay
    His Aunt a Rodent viewed,
    How wickedly did he repay
    Her Kindness oft renewed.

    The Work Box on the Table stood,
    He quickly rais’d the Lid,
    And ’mongst the Silks it did include
    The Mouse securely hid.

    She oped the Box, her Pins to seek,
    Out sprang the nimble Mouse,
    Oh Mercy! what a dreadful Shriek
    Resounded through the House.

    Twas her last Cry, for ne’er again
    Aunt Fanny’s Voice was heard:
    Depriv’d was she, by Shock and Pain,
    Of Pow’r to speak a Word.

    Paul’s Penitence was no avail,
    The horrid Deed was done,
    Though Good might through his Life prevail,
    With Wrong it was begun.

    How dread to think the Innocent
    Must suffer for his Crime:
    Mark how each Fault, though we repent,
    Bears Consequence through Time.




[Illustration]




                           LAWLESS DISRESPECT


    Come, James, you well deserve the Cane,
    Your Acts my Ire have gained,
    To frown I am obliged again
    And dear Mama is pained.

    That you to such a Deed should stoop,
    And impiously should dare
    At Auntie’s Legs to bowl your Hoop
    And hurl her through the Air.

    That Lawlessness should stalk abroad
    Offends each righteous Heart,
    And Children, till Respect’s restor’d,
    Must very rightly smart.




                         INEVITABLE RETRIBUTION


    “It is a Shame,” said Albert Gore,
    “That I my Top may spin no more,
      But to my Book must go;
    Whilst James, although the Clock strikes Three,
    Still plies his Marbles busily
      With Uncle’s Gardener, Joe.”

    “Nay, quit your Sport, your Hand refrain,”
    Cried the Preceptor once again;
      But, oh! to tell I grieve
    That Albert, when he turn’d his Face,
    Made so repellent a Grimace
      That you would scarce believe.

    And ah! the Wind, at Heav’n’s behest
    Changed from the East into the West,
      Alas! for Albert Gore,
    His Countenance, his glaring Eye,
    His Nose outspread, his Mouth awry
      Were set to turn no more.

    Oh! what a Warning this should be
    For every little Child to see,
      For all from Albert run.
    The Author of his own Disgrace,
    He weeps to think how wry a Face
      He’ll wear till Life is done.




                                 REVENGE


    When Ferdinand was sent to School
    It was his great delight
    To pause and plague the Village Fool
    ’Gainst whom he had a Spite.

    The poor afflicted Creature dwelt
    Alone, hard by a Wood,
    Forlorn and desolate he felt,
    Oft destitute of Food.

    But Ferdinand for him could feel
    No gentle Pity flow,
    Nor from his daily plenteous Meal
    Would e’en one Crumb bestow.

[Illustration]

    From Vanity came all the Blame:
    How oft we may remark
    What fiercely burning Faults will flame
    From one small sinful Spark.

    One Sunday morning it had chanced,
    As to the Church he went,
    That Ferdinand around had glanced
    On Admiration bent.

    His Vest was frill’d, his Jacket too
    In Fashion’s last Conceit,
    His Nankeen Pants, of yellow hue,
    Scarce reach’d his Slippers neat.

    A tassell’d Cane swung in his Hand,
    He strutted proudly by,
    His whole Demeanour a Demand
    For Wonder’s envious Eye.

    But oh! what Rage possess’d his Heart
    When laughter caught his Ear,
    What Pangs of Anger, like a Dart,
    Pierc’d him at every Jeer.

    What did he see? with mincing Tread
    The Idiot walked behind,
    And aped his Gestures, wagged his Head
    And smiled with vacant Mind.

    A clumsy Bludgeon took the place
    Of Ferdinand’s smart Cane,
    And pert young Master’s easy Grace
    The poor Fool tried to feign.

    Though Weeks had pass’d, and all should strive
    Offences to forget,
    Ferdinand’s Soul could but derive
    Fresh Cause to fume and fret.

    An evil Thought one Morning leapt
    Into his jaundic’d Mind,
    And with a Saw he stealthy crept
    To where the Stream did wind.

    And through and through he sawed the Plank
    That bridg’d the Waters’ play,
    Then ’neath a Bush upon the Bank
    Concealed and still he lay.

    The Idiot came, he took one Stride,
    Fell through, and Heels o’er Head
    He sank, and loud for Help he cried,
    But guilty Ferd’nand fled.

    Now had the wicked Boy returned
    And straight confest his Crime
    The guilt of Murder, he had learned,
    Had not been his this Time.

    Attracted by the Idiot’s Roars,
    At his sad Plight appalled,
    His dripping Body to the Shores
    A Passer-by had hauled.

    But Ferdinand ran off to Sea
    And fought great Bonaparte;
    He perish’d soon, by Fate’s Decree,
    And broke his Mother’s Heart.




[Illustration]




                           UNSUITABLE JESTING


    It grieves me, Emma, much to see
    How Pert and Rude you are;
    Sure, everybody must agree
    From Courtesy you’re far.

    What wicked Rudeness thus to jest
    On Mister Barton’s Toes:
    Poor Gentleman, he’s Uncle’s Guest,
    And Gout gives painful Throes.

    How very ill does it beseem
    A Child to play such Part:
    The Prisons of the World do teem
    With those of unkind Heart.




                             THE CHATTERBOX


    I needs must beg you, Caroline,
    To cease your Chatter whilst I dine,
      It deafens every Ear.
    John Footman cannot hear my Words,
    And I have asked him twice for Curds
      And still he cannot hear.

    When Uncle Wilmot, from Malay,
    Comes here, to make his usual Stay,
      He surely will suppose
    That he is back in savage Lands,
    Where Heathens roam in impious Bands
      And feast upon their Foes.

    We all should learn to curb our Speech,
    Last Week we heard the Rector preach
      Upon this Rule; ’tis true
    If he your giddy Talk could hear
    His Sermons would be more severe,
      And he would preach on You.




                               SOLICITUDE


    Come Matthew! set your Book aside,
    And Ann your Shawl put on,
    For in the Carriage we will ride
    To visit Uncle John.

    The Way is long so Bread we’ll take,
    And then, with Cups to fill,
    We will alight our Thirst to slake
    By some pellucid Rill.

    “Thanks, dear Papa,” the Youth did say,
    “But shall we ask Mama
    Her kindly Fears aside to lay
    Before we ride so far?”

    Yes, thoughtful Boy, his Sire replied,
    Your Words I now commend;
    Solicitude should be our Guide
    With Parent, as with Friend.




[Illustration]




                            ILL-TIMED LEVITY


    I scarce can speak, Bartholomew,
    I am so much displeased with you
      For all that has occur’d:
    Aunt Porter, who had come to stay,
    Has in her Chariot roll’d away
      Without a parting Word.

    Last Night, when all were sent to Dine,
    You took a Fish-hook and some Twine
      And, leaning o’er the Stair,
    When honour’d Guests went by Below
    Let slyly down the Hook, and so
      Secured it in her Hair.

    Alas! Aunt Porter, long denied
    That Crown which is a Woman’s Pride,
      And thinking, sure, no Ill,
    At Table duly took her Seat
    With seasoned Majesty replete
      And amiable Good-will.

    At last she rais’d her Hand appall’d
      And sudden found that she was Bald,
    And for her Speech did strive:--
    The Scene I cannot now pursue,
    It has been given to very Few
      Such Moments to survive.

    Ah me! you cannot understand
    What Pow’r may lie in childish Hand
      E’en at such tender Age.
    Our Relative in high Disgust
    Will make Resentment, deep and just,
      Our only Heritage.




                          THOMAS AND THE BEGGAR


    Come, Thomas come, your Mother called,
    She saw you in the Street,
    And of that Beggar, blind and bald
    She watch’d you trip the Feet.

    His little Dog, with Jaws agape,
    An angry Protest raised:
    But all too late, his Master’s Shape
    The Pavement’s Edge had grazed.

    Swift running came Policeman Joe
    And, threat’ning, spoke of Jail:
    For those who Others overthrow
    May deep in Dungeons wail.




[Illustration]




                            OFFENSIVE MANNERS


    How nicely little Cecil sits
    And eats his Cake in careful Bits,
      A Warning, John, to you
    Whose Mouth is filled with Beef and Egg,
    The Remnants of a Turkey’s Leg,
      And half a Dumpling too.

    It really makes me feel quite hurt
    To see the Way that you insert
      Your Fingers in the Dish;
    Such Mouthfuls too have ceased to be
    Since Prophet Jonah marv’llously
      Was swallowed by the Fish.

    Pray from the Joint remove your Fist,
    And do not stubbornly persist
      Good Manners to offend.
    Some Day you’ll choke upon a Slice,
    Or suffocate from too much Rice
      And that will be your End.




                        CONTUMACIOUS CONSTANTINE


    Come, Constantine! this sulky Face
    I can no more excuse:
    Entreat for Pardon, beg for Grace,
    My Patience you abuse.

    Your Donkey, Ned, you emulate:
    Because Creation’s Plan
    Has formed the dumb Beast obstinate
    It is not so with Man.

    Your Tongue was giv’n, with contrite Speech,
    To own when you offend;
    Your Soul Intelligence to teach
    And Virtue recommend.

    Your Conduct you can not defend:
    It surely was not kind
    To throw the Pepper o’er your Friend,
    And risk his going Blind?

    Despite his burning, tearful Eye,
    Despite convulsive Sneeze,
    If ask’d to Pardon he’d comply
    With your Desire to Please.

    What! silent still? Then go away:
    Until Contrition’s shown
    In Solitude upstairs you stay,
    For Meals dry Bread alone.

    All stubborn, naughty Children know
    That Jam, and Cake, and Pies
    Are only meant for those who show
    A Nature Mild and Wise.




[Illustration]




                            DISOBEDIENT EMILY


    When Emily her Task had done
    It was her Nurse’s Rule
    To stern forbid her Charge to run
    Near Miller Jones’s Pool.

    But Emily did not incline
    Kind Nursey to obey,
    She saw the Water Lilies shine
    That on the Water lay.

    “La!” she exclaimed, “what Nurse desired
    She idly spoke in Haste,
    Those Plants would fitly be admired
    If on the Table placed.”

    And so, with bold, presumptuous Mien
    And disobedient Pride,
    She hies her to the Meadows green
    Wherein the Waters glide.

    To reach the Flowers she plies each Art,
    And, in the very Deed,
    A Victim to her wilful Heart,
    She sinks beneath the Weed.

    Nurse Sukey, from her Window high,
    The dire Misfortune views,
    Her deaf’ning Scream and frenzied Eye
    Proclaim the fatal News.

    Dragged by the Miller and his Wife,
    Who haste their Aid to lend,
    Young Emily, restored to Life,
    Makes Promise to amend.

    “Ah me!” she cries, “tho’ crowned with Slime
    And choked with Mud and Leaves,
    My Heart may profit, in its Time,
    By what my Fault receives.”




                                VIOLENCE


    Pause, Robert, pause: remember Cain!
    What’s this you say, Adolphus Bain
      Has struck you with his Fist?
    Nay, your Resentment lay aside,
    Your Playmate you should gently chide
      And ask him to desist.

    If he has kicked you in the Chest,
    Him you should pleasantly request
      His Anger to postpone
    Till you have warn’d him how such Deed
    May injure Health, and Sickness breed,
      And shake Religion’s Throne.

    The Reverend Mister Somerville
    Has brought you up extremely ill
      If you he has not taught
    To know that they who raise the Hand
    May come to bear Cain’s awful Brand:
      Now Profit by the Thought.




Transcriber’s Note:

A stanza break was added after the sixth line of “Inevitable
Retribution.”