Charles' Journey to France, and Other Tales — John Shaqi
Charles' Journey to France, and Other TalesBarbauld, Mrs. (Anna Letitia)
General
Charles' Journey to France, and Other Tales
Barbauld, Mrs. (Anna Letitia)
Children's stories; Short stories
Face to the shade, and back to the shine;
Send up your balls with a toss like mine,
Straight as a dart, as if 't were cast
From the spring of a mighty arbalast.
[Illustration]
There it goes! good luck to the ball!
Here it comes, with a plumping fall;
How merry it is, our balls to throw,
Standing together thus in a row!
An up and a down, that is the way,
With a good round ball, that you must play;
Up, high as you can, and down again,
Now, we have counted ten times ten.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: He was afraid of dogs, too.--_Page 40._]
THE LITTLE BOY WHO WAS A COWARD.
There was once a little boy, who was a sad coward. He was afraid of
every thing almost. He was afraid of the two kids, Nanny and Billy,
when they came and put their noses through the pales of the court; and
he would not pluck Billy by the beard. What a silly boy he was! Pray
what was his name? Nay, indeed, I shall not tell you his name; for I
am ashamed of him. Well, he was much afraid of dogs, too: he always
cried if a dog barked, and ran away, and took hold of his mamma's
apron like a baby. What a foolish fellow he was! for the dogs do not
hurt, you know; they love little boys and play with them. Did you ever
see a dog eat up a little boy? No, never, I dare say. Well; so this
simple little boy was walking by himself one day, and a pretty black
dog came out of a house, and said, bow, wow, bow, wow; and came to the
little boy, and jumped upon him, and wanted to play with him; but the
little boy ran away. The dog ran after him, and cried louder, bow,
bow, wow; but he only meant to say, Good-morrow, how do you do? but
this little boy was sadly frightened, and ran away as fast as ever he
could, without looking before him, and he tumbled into a very dirty
ditch, and there he lay crying at the bottom of the ditch, for he
could not get out: and I believe he would have laid there all day, but
the dog was so good-natured that he went to the house where the little
boy lived, on purpose to tell them where he was. So, when he came to
the house, he scratched at the door, and said, Bow, wow; for he could
not speak any plainer. So they opened the door.
What do you want, you black dog? We do not know you. Then the dog went
to Ralph the servant, and pulled him by the coat, and pulled him till
he brought him to the ditch; and the dog and Ralph together got the
little boy out of the ditch; but he was all over mud, and quite wet,
and every body laughed at him because he was a coward.
Now, Charles, my pen is tired, I cannot write any more at present; but
if you are a good boy, perhaps I may write you some more stories
another time. Farewell.
[Illustration]
MY MOTHER.
My own mamma!
My dear mamma!
How happy I shall be,
To-morrow night
At candle light,
When she comes home to me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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