Chimney sweeps -- Juvenile fiction; Fairy tales -- England
But, on the contrary, the turnip's parents were highly delighted, and
considered him a saint and a martyr, and put up a long inscription over
his tomb about his wonderful talents, early development, and
unparalleled precocity. Were they not a foolish couple? But there was a
still more foolish couple next to them, who were beating a wretched
little radish, no bigger than my thumb, for sullenness and obstinacy and
wilful stupidity, and never knew that the reason why it couldn't learn
or hardly even speak was, that there was a great worm inside it eating
out all its brains. But even they are no foolisher than some hundred
score of papas and mammas, who fetch the rod when they ought to fetch a
new toy, and send to the dark cupboard instead of to the doctor.
Tom was so puzzled and frightened with all he saw, that he was longing
to ask the meaning of it; and at last he stumbled over a respectable old
stick lying half covered with earth. But a very stout and worthy stick
it was, for it belonged to good Roger Ascham in old time, and had carved
on its head King Edward the Sixth, with the Bible in his hand.
"You see," said the stick, "there were as pretty little children once as
you could wish to see, and might have been so still if they had been
only left to grow up like human beings, and then handed over to me; but
their foolish fathers and mothers, instead of letting them pick flowers,
and make dirt-pies, and get birds' nests, and dance round the gooseberry
bush, as little children should, kept them always at lessons, working,
working, working, learning week-day lessons all week-days, and Sunday
lessons all Sunday, and weekly examinations every Saturday, and monthly
examinations every month, and yearly examinations every year, everything
seven times over, as if once was not enough, and enough as good as a
feast--till their brains grew big, and their bodies grew small, and they
were all changed into turnips, with little but water inside; and still
their foolish parents actually pick the leaves off them as fast as they
grow, lest they should have anything green about them."
"Ah!" said Tom, "if dear Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby knew of it she would
send them a lot of tops, and balls, and marbles, and ninepins, and make
them all as jolly as sand-boys."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account