Contents

  CAUTIONARY TALES FOR CHILDREN

  INTRODUCTION

  Jim

  Henry King

  Matilda

  Franklin Hyde

  Godolphin Horne

  Algernon

  Hildebrand

  Lord Lundy

  Rebecca

  George

  Charles Augustus Fortescue

  THE BAD CHILD’S BOOK OF BEASTS

  INTRODUCTION

  The Yak

  The Polar Bear

  The Lion

  The Tiger

  The Dodo

  The Marmozet

  The Learned Fish

  The Elephant

  The Rhinoceros

  MORE BEASTS FOR WORSE CHILDREN

  INTRODUCTION

  The Python

  The Welsh Mutton

  The Porcupine

  The Scorpion

  The Vulture

  The Bison

  The Chamois

  CAUTIONARY TALES FOR CHILDREN

  INTRODUCTION

  Upon being asked by a Reader whether the verses contained in this book were true.

  And is it True? It is not True.

  And if it were it wouldn’t do,

  For people such as me and you

  Who pretty nearly all day long

  Are doing something rather wrong.

  Because if things were really so,

  You would have perished long ago,

  And I would not have lived to write

  The noble lines that meet your sight,

  Nor B. T. B. survived to draw

  The nicest things you ever saw.

  H. B.

  Jim,

  Who ran away from his Nurse, and was eaten by a Lion.

  There was a Boy whose name was Jim;

  His Friends were very good to him.

  They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,

  And slices of delicious Ham,

  And Chocolate with pink inside,

  And little Tricycles to ride,

  And

  read him Stories through and through,

  And even took him to the Zoo—

  But there it was the dreadful Fate

  Befell him, which I now relate.

  You know—at least you ought to know,

  For I have often told you so—

  That Children never are allowed

  To leave their Nurses in a Crowd;

  Now this was Jim’s especial Foible,

  He ran away when he was able,

  And on this inauspicious day

  He slipped his hand and ran away!

  He hadn’t gone a yard when—

            Bang!

  With open Jaws, a Lion sprang,

  And hungrily began to eat

  The Boy: beginning at his feet.

  Now just imagine how it feels

  When first your toes and then your heels,

  And then by gradual degrees,

  Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,

  Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.

  No wonder Jim detested it!

  No wonder that he shouted “Hi!”

  The Honest Keeper heard his cry,

  Though very fat

        he almost ran

  To help the little gentleman.

  “Ponto!” he ordered as he came

  (For Ponto was the Lion’s name),

  “Ponto!” he cried,

       with angry Frown.

  “Let go, Sir! Down, Sir! Put it down!”

  The Lion made a sudden Stop,

  He let the Dainty Morsel drop,

  And slunk reluctant to his Cage,

  Snarling with Disappointed Rage

  But when he bent him over Jim,

  The Honest Keeper’s

           Eyes were dim.

  The Lion having reached his Head,

  The Miserable Boy was dead!

  When Nurse informed his Parents, they

  Were more Concerned than I can say:—

  His Mother, as She dried her eyes,

  Said, “Well—it gives me no surprise,

  He would not do as he was told!”

  His Father, who was self-controlled,

  Bade all the children round attend

  To James’ miserable end,

  And always keep a-hold of Nurse

  For fear of finding something worse.

  Henry King,

  Who chewed bits of String, and was early cut off in Dreadful Agonies.

  The Chief Defect of Henry King

  Was

      chewing little bits of String.

  At last he swallowed some which tied

  Itself in ugly Knots inside.

  Physicians of the Utmost Fame

  Were called at once; but when they came

  They answered,

       as they took their Fees,

  “There is no Cure for this Disease.

  Henry will very soon be dead.”

  His Parents stood about his Bed

  Lamenting his Untimely Death,

  When Henry, with his Latest Breath,

  Cried—

  “Oh, my Friends, be warned by me,

  That Breakfast, Dinner, Lunch and Tea

  Are all the Human Frame requires . . .”

  With that the Wretched Child expires.

  Matilda,

  Who told Lies, and was Burned to Death.

  Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,

  It made one Gasp and Stretch one’s Eyes;

  Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,

  Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,

  Attempted to Believe Matilda:

  The effort very nearly killed her,

  And would have done so, had not She

  Discovered this Infirmity.

  For once, towards the Close of Day,

  Matilda, growing tired of play,

  And finding she was left alone,

  Went tiptoe

        to

          the Telephone

  And summoned the Immediate Aid

  Of London’s Noble Fire-Brigade.

  Within an hour the Gallant Band

  Were pouring in on every hand,

  From Putney, Hackney Downs and Bow,

  With Courage high and Hearts a-glow

  They galloped, roaring through the Town,

  “Matilda’s House is Burning Down!”

  Inspired by British Cheers and Loud

  Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,

  They ran their ladders through a score

  Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;

  And took Peculiar Pains to Souse

  The Pictures up and down the House,

  Until Matilda’s Aunt succeeded

  In showing them they were not needed

  And even then she had to pay

  To get the Men to go away!

  *

  It happened that a few Weeks later

  Her Aunt was off to the Theatre

  To see that Interesting Play

  The Second Mrs. Tanqueray.

  She had refused to take her Niece

  To hear this Entertaining Piece:

  A Deprivation Just and Wise

  To Punish her for Telling Lies.

  That Night a Fire did break out—

  You should have heard Matilda Shout!

  You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,

  And throw the window up and call

  To People passing in the Street—

  (The rapidly increasing Heat

  Encouraging her to obtain

  Their confidence)—but all in vain!

  For every time She shouted “Fire!”

  They only answered “Little Liar!”

  And therefore when her Aunt returned,

  Matilda, and the House, were Burned.

  Franklin Hyde,

  Who caroused in the Dirt and was corrected by His Uncle.

  His Uncle came on Franklin Hyde

  Carousing in the Dirt.

  He Shook him hard from Side to Side

  And

  Hit him till it Hurt,

  Exclaiming, with a Final Thud,

  “Take

       that! Abandoned Boy!

  For Playing with Disgusting Mud

  As though it were a Toy!”

  MORAL

  From Franklin Hyde’s adventure, learn

  To pass your Leisure Time

  In Cleanly Merriment, and turn

  From Mud and Ooze and Slime

  And every form of Nastiness—

  But, on the other Hand,

  Children in ordinary Dress

  May always play with Sand.

  Godolphin Horne,

  Who was cursed with the Sin of Pride, and Became a Boot-Black.

  Godolphin Horne was Nobly Born;

  He held the Human Race in Scorn,

  And lived with all his Sisters where

  His father lived, in Berkeley Square.

  And oh! the Lad was Deathly Proud!

  He never shook your Hand or Bowed,

  But merely smirked and nodded

              thus:

  How perfectly ridiculous!

  Alas! That such Affected Tricks

  Should flourish in a Child of Six!

  (For such was Young Godolphin’s age).

  Just then, the Court required a Page,

  Whereat

  the Lord High Chamberlain

  (The Kindest and the Best of Men),

  He went good-naturedly and

          took

  A Perfectly Enormous Book

  Called People Qualified to Be

  Attendant on His Majesty,

  And murmured, as he scanned the list

  (To see that no one should be missed),

  “There’s

  William Coutts has got the Flue,

  And Billy Higgs would never do,

  And Guy de Vere is far too young,

  And . . . wasn’t D’Alton’s Father hung?

  And as for Alexander Byng!— . . .

  I think I know the kind of thing,

  A Churchman, cleanly, nobly born,

  Come

     let us say Godolphin Horne?”

  But hardly had he said the word

  When Murmurs of Dissent were heard.

  The King of Iceland’s Eldest Son

  Said, “Thank you! I am taking none!”

  The Aged Duchess of Athlone

  Remarked, in her sub-acid tone,

  “I doubt if He is what we need!”

  With which the Bishops all agreed;

  And even Lady Mary Flood

  (So Kind, and oh! so really good)

  Said, “No! He wouldn’t do at all,

  He’d make us feel a lot too small.”

  The Chamberlain said,

      “. . . Well, well, well!

  No doubt you’re right. . . . One cannot tell!”

  He took his Gold and Diamond Pen

  And

      Scratched Godolphin out again.

  So now Godolphin is the Boy

  Who blacks the Boots at the Savoy.

  Algernon,

  Who played with a Loaded Gun, and, on missing his Sister was reprimanded by his Father.

  Young Algernon,

  the Doctor’s Son,

  Was

  playing with a Loaded Gun.

  He pointed it towards his sister,

  Aimed very carefully, but

  Missed her!

  His Father, who was standing near,

  The Loud Explosion chanced to Hear,

  And reprimanded Algernon

  For playing with a Loaded Gun.

  Hildebrand,

  Who was frightened by a Passing Motor, and was brought to Reason.

  “Oh, Murder! What was that, Papa!”

  “My child,

          It was a Motor-Car,

  A Most Ingenious Toy!

  Designed to Captivate and Charm

  Much rather than to rouse Alarm

  In any English Boy.

  “What would your Great Grandfather who

  Was Aide-de-Camp to General Brue,

  And lost a leg at

           Waterloo,

  And

  Quatre-Bras and

  Ligny too!

  And died at Trafalgar!—

  What would he have remarked to hear

  His Young Descendant shriek with fear,

  Because he happened to be near

    A Harmless Motor-Car!

  But do not fret about it! Come!

  We’ll off to Town

           And purchase some!”

  Lord Lundy,

  Who was too Freely Moved to Tears, and thereby ruined his Political Career.

  Lord Lundy from his earliest years

  Was far too freely moved to Tears.

  For instance if his Mother said,

  “Lundy! It’s time to go to Bed!”

  He bellowed like a Little Turk.

  Or if

   his father Lord Dunquerque

  Said “Hi!” in a Commanding Tone,

  “Hi, Lundy! Leave the Cat alone!”

  Lord Lundy, letting go its tail,

  Would raise so terrible a wail

  As moved

  His

  Grandpapa

       the

          Duke

  To utter the severe rebuke:

  “When I, Sir! was a little Boy,

  An Animal was not a Toy!”

  His father’s Elder Sister, who

  Was married to a Parvenoo,

  Confided to Her Husband, “Drat!

  The Miserable, Peevish Brat!

  Why don’t they drown the Little Beast?”

  Suggestions which, to say the least,

  Are not what we expect to hear

  From Daughters of an English Peer.

  His grandmamma, His Mother’s Mother,

  Who had some dignity or other,

  The Garter, or no matter what,

  I can’t remember all the Lot!

  Said “Oh! that I were Brisk and Spry

  To give him that for which to cry!”

  (An empty wish, alas! for she

  Was Blind and nearly ninety-three).

  The

  Dear old Butler

        thought—but there!

  I really neither know nor care

  For what the Dear Old Butler thought!

  In my opinion, Butlers ought

  To know their place, and not to play

  The Old Retainer night and day

  I’m getting tired and so are you,

  Let’s cut the Poem into two!

  *

  Lord Lundy

  (SECOND CANTO)

  It happened to Lord Lundy then,

  As happens to so many men:

  Towards the age of twenty-six,

  They shoved him into politics;

  In which profession he commanded

  The income that his rank demanded

  In turn as Secretary for

  India, the Colonies, and War.

  But very soon his friends began

  To doubt if he were quite the man:

  Thus, if a member rose to say

  (As members do from day to day),

  “Arising out of that reply . . . !”

  Lord Lundy would begin to cry.

  A Hint at harmless little jobs

  Would shake him with convulsive sobs.

  While as for Revelations, these

  Would simply bring him to his knees,

  And leave him whimpering like a child.

  It drove his Colleagues raving wild!

  They let him sink from Post to Post,

  From fifteen hundred at the most

  To eight, and barely six—and then

  To be Curator of Big Ben! . . .

  And finally there came a Threat

  To oust him from the Cabinet!

  The Duke—his aged grand-sire—bore

  The shame till he could bear no more.

  He rallied his declining powers,

  Summoned the youth to Brackley Towers,

  And bitterly addressed him thus—

  “Sir! you have disappointed us!

  We had intended you to be

  The next Prime Minister but three:

  The stocks were sold; the Press was squared:

  The Middle Class was quite prepared.

  But as it is! . . . My language fails!

  Go out and govern New South Wales!”

  *

  The Aged Patriot groaned and died:

  And gracious! how Lord Lundy cried!

  Rebecca,

  Who slammed Doors for Fun and Perished Miserably.

  A Trick that everyone abhors

  In Little Girls is slamming Doors.

  A

         Wealthy Banker’s

         Little Daughter

  Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater

  (By name Rebecca Offendort),

  Was given to this Furious Sport.

  She would deliberately go

  And Slam the door like Billy-Ho!

  To make

    her

         Uncle Jacob start.

  She was not really bad at heart,

  But only rather rude and wild:

  She was an aggravating child. . . .

  It happened that a Marble Bust

  Of Abraham was standing just

  Above the Door this little Lamb

  Had carefully prepared to Slam,

  And Down it came! It knocked her flat!

  It laid her out! She looked like that.

  *

  Her funeral Sermon (which was long

  And followed by a Sacred Song)

  Mentioned her Virtues, it is true,

  But dwelt upon her Vices too,

  And showed the Dreadful End of One

  Who goes and slams the door for Fun.

  *

  The children who were brought to hear

  The awful Tale from far and near

  Were much impressed,

           and inly swore

 

1 2