Slovenly Betsy

<h2>THE LITTLE GLUTTON</h2> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="f1">O</span>h! how this Mary loved to eat,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">It was her chief delight;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She would have something, sour or sweet,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To munch from morn till night.<br/></span> <span class="i0">She to the pantry daily stole,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And slyly she would take<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sugar, and plums, and sweetmeats, too,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And apples, nuts, and cake.<br/></span></div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image_81.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="627" alt="Illustration" /></div> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Her mother Mary oft reproved,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But, ah! it did no good;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Munch, nibble, chew, from morn to night,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The little glutton would.<br/></span></div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image_83.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="647" alt="Illustration" /></div> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">One day, upon some bee-hives near<br/></span> <span class="i0">She chanced to cast her eyes;<br/></span> <span class="i0">&#8220;How nice that honey there must taste!&#8221;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She cried, and off she flies.<br/></span> <span class="i0">On tiptoe now the hives she nears,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Close up to them she creeps,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And through the little window panes<br/></span> <span class="i0">Quite cautiously she peeps.<br/></span> <span class="i0">&#8220;Oh, dear! how good it looks!&#8221; she cries,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As she the honey sees;<br/></span> <span class="i0">&#8220;I must, I will, indeed, have some;<br/></span> <span class="i0">It cannot hurt the bees.&#8221;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then a hive she gently lifts,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh, foolish, foolish child,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Down, down it falls&mdash;out swarm the bees<br/></span> <span class="i0">Buzzing with fury wild.<br/></span> <span class="i0">With fright she shrieks, and tries to run,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But ah! 'tis all in vain;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Upon her light the angry bees,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And make her writhe with pain.<br/></span></div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image_85.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="641" alt="Illustration" /></div> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Four weeks and more did Mary lie<br/></span> <span class="i0">Upon her little bed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, ah! instead of honey, she<br/></span> <span class="i0">On medicine was fed.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Her parents grieved so much at first<br/></span> <span class="i0">Their child so sick to see;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But once more well, with joy they found<br/></span> <span class="i0">Her cured of gluttony.<br/></span></div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image_87.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="642" alt="Illustration" /></div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />