So come dinner-time, the man came, and his master took him into a room where the table was a-set with good things of all sorts. And he said: "Now, you can eat as much as ever you like from any of the dishes on the table; but don't touch the covered dish in the middle till I come back." And with that the master went out of the room and left the man there all by himself. So the man sat down and helped himself, and ate some o' this dish and some o' that, and enjoyed himself finely. But after awhile, as his master didn't come back, he began to look at the covered dish, and to wonder whatever was in it. And he wondered more and more, and he says to himself, "It must be something very nice. Why shouldn't I just look at it? I won't touch it. There can't be any harm in just peeping." So at last he could hold back no longer, and he lifted up the cover a tiny bit; but he couldn't see anything. Then he lifted it up a bit more, and out popped a mouse. The man tried to catch it; but it ran away and jumped off the table and he ran after it. It ran first into one corner, and then, just as he thought he'd got it, into another, and under the table, and all about the room. And the man made such a clatter, jumping and banging and running round after the mouse, a-trying to catch it, that at last his master came in. "Ah!" he said; "never you blame Adam again, my man!" The Children in the Wood Now ponder well, you parents dear, These words which I shall write; A doleful story you shall hear, In time brought forth to light. A gentleman of good account, In Norfolk dwelt of late, Who did in honour far surmount Most men of his estate. Sore sick he was and like to die, No help his life could save; His wife by him as sick did lie, And both possest one grave. No love between these two was lost, Each was to other kind; In love they lived, in love they died, And left two babes behind. The one a fine and pretty boy Not passing three years old, The other a girl more young than he, And framed in beauty's mould. The father left his little son, As plainly did appear, When he to perfect age should come, Three hundred pounds a year; And to his little daughter Jane Five hundred pounds in gold, To be paid down on marriage-day, Which might not be controlled. But if the children chanced to die Ere they to age should come, Their uncle should possess their wealth; For so the will did run. "Now, brother," said the dying man, "Look to my children dear; Be good unto my boy and girl, No friends else have they here; To God and you I recommend My children dear this day; But little while be sure we have Within this world to stay.