O, come, ye children, come and hear,
While I a story tell;
From trouble sore it may you save
If you will learn it well.
Well now, two naughty boys there were,
And Fred and Bob their names;
And though to school these boys were sent
They only cared for games.
In fact, against this very school
They had some special spite,
And meant to do it harm, yea, if
They could, suppress it quite.
Said Fred to Bob, "Let's truant play,
O, won't it be a spree?"
For little George and Sam will go,
But, ah! no good 'twill be.
For, Bobby, boy, the rule is this,
"No class with less than three."
There were but five, and one has left,
The game's with you and me.
If you and I at truant play
The thing must stop, you see;
We have been ruled, now we may rule,
And Georgie's master be."
"Well planned, Fred, boy," said pliant Bob,
"You always were a brick ;
And to you (in a game like this)
Like mortar I will stick.
Whate'er you bid me do, dear Fred,
I'll do it if I can;
On head or heels I’ll stand, just like
A gutta percha man."
Success they deemed so very sure
(Just like the foolish, tribe)
That they divulged their little game—
Divulged it to a scribe.
Then, said this scribe, we must put down
Such childish petty wars;
So sent to town a line or two
And told their "Governors."
Their "Governors," like parents wise,
"A rod in pickle" had ;
And while they grieved to hear from school
Their "Hopefuls" were so bad.
They wrote a line to Fred and Bob,
Who school laws had abused,
To ask if they could tell them why
This rod should not be used?
Then said these boys "the school is wrong,
This justifies our course."
Their Governors thought otherwise,
And used the rod with force.
Their dignity thus keenly touched,
Fred, with a haughty strut,
Said to his faithful Bob, "How mean,
Old fellow, let us cut."
With airs of injured innocence
Clean out of school they banged,
As culprits sometimes take their life
To save them being hanged.
Thus by their folly they have brought
Upon themselves the rod,
And branded are as members of
The Rushden "Awkward Squad."
Then children learn this lesson well,
Seek more the public good
Than little selfish wicked ends,
And crush each spiteful mood.
18th March,1879.
AUNT SALLY [R E Bradfield]
