The Story of Cruel Frederick
This Frederick! this Frederick!
A naughty, wicked boy was he;
He caught the flies, poor little things,
And then tore off their tiny wings;
He kill’d the birds, and broke the chairs,
And threw the kitten down the stairs;
And oh! far worse and worse,
He whipp’d his good and gentle nurse!
The trough was full, and faithful Tray
Came out to drink one sultry day;
He wagg’d his tail, and wet his lip,
When cruel Fred snatch’d up a whip,
And whipp’d poor Tray till he was sore,
And kick’d and whipp’d him more and more;
At this, good Tray grew very red,
And growl’d and bit him till he bled;
Then you should only have been by,
To see how Fred did scream and cry!
So Frederick had to go to bed;
His leg was very sore and red!
The Doctor came and shook his head,
And made a very great to-do,
And gave him bitter physic too.
But good dog Tray is happy now;
He has no time to say “bow-wow!”
He seats himself in Frederick’s chair,
And laughs to see the nice things there:
The soup he swallows, sup by sup,—
And eats the pies and puddings up.
From Slovenly Peter: or, Cheerful Stories and Funny Pictures for Good Little Folks, Heinrich Hoffmann, Philadelphia, The John C. Winston Company, 1900.