The Naughty Mouse.
In a nice little house,
Lived a silly young mouse,
So snug at the back of a shed;
He would spend all of the day
In fine gambols of play,
Then go to warm little bed.
He had a kind mother,
A good little brother,
And plenty of nice wholesome food;
Oh! how naughty was he,
Discontented to be;
He should have been happy and good.
'Tis with sorrow indeed,
I must say he would heed
No word that his fond mother spoke;
If she told him to stay,
He would scamper away,
And think it a very fine joke.
Now one day on the green
His good parent had seen
A cat, fast asleep in the sun;
So to Mousey she said,
"Pray go back to your bed,
And near that fine creature don't run."
But alas! you will find,
No advice would he mind,
He soon went away with a squeak;
For he thought 'twould be fun
Round the big cat to run,
She looked both so tame and so sleek.
But he made a mistake,
For Miss Puss was awake,
Asleep though pretending to be;
None so deaf do appear
As are those who
won't hear,
So blind as all those who
won't see.
Little mouse feared no ill,
For the cat lay so still,
Alarm never entered his head;
So he frolicked about,
Till puss put her paw out,
Gave a pat - and the mousey was dead!
Little people attend
To advice from a friend;
Both love and obedience too,
Ever practice to those
Who you may suppose,
If older, are wiser than you.
Poem by Maria Corbould.
Images by Whymper* (first name uncertain) from The Child's Companion and Juvenile Instructor, Vol. XXXIII, 1893, page 49-50
*Probably Edward Whymper. He was both a professional engraver and a famous mountaineer hence why he is listed as one of the 'etc' illustrators rather than listed by name. The etching
signature matches known works.
