KIND, good-hearted, gouty Uncle John! how well I remember all the kindness and affection which my mischievous propensities so ill repaid—his bright blue coat and resplendent gilt buttons—his "frosty pow" si bien poudré—his little quill-like pigtail!—Of all my praiseworthy actions—they were "like angel visits, few and far between"—the never-failing and munificent rewarder; of my naughty deeds—they were multitudinous as the sands on the sea-shore— the ever-ready palliator; my intercessor, and sometimes even my defender against punishment, "staying harsh justice in its mid career!"—Poor Uncle John! he will ever rank among the dearest of my |
NURSERY REMINISCENCES.
| I REMEMBER, I remember, | ||
| When I was a little Boy, | ||
| One fine morning in September | ||
| Uncle brought me home a toy. | ||
| I remember how he patted | ||
| Both my cheeks in kindliest mood; | ||
| "Then," said he, "you little Fat-heart. | ||
| There's a top because you're good!" | ||
| Grandmama—a shrewd observer— | ||
| I remember gazed upon | ||
| My new top, and said with fervour, | ||
| "Oh! how kind of Uncle John!" | ||
| While mama my form caressing,— | ||
| In her eye the tear-drop stood, | ||
| Read me this fine moral lesson, | ||
| "See what comes of being good!" * * * * | ||
| I remember, I remember, | ||
| On a wet and windy day, | ||
| One cold morning in December, | ||
| I stole out and went to play; | ||
| I remember Billy Hawkins | ||
| Came, and with his pewter squirt | ||
| Squibb'd my pantaloons and stockings | ||
| Till they were all over dirt! | ||
| To my mother for protection | ||
| I ran, quaking every limb: | ||
| —She exclaimed, with fond affection, | ||
| "Gracious Goodness! look at him!"— | ||
| Pa cried, when he saw my garment, | ||
| —'Twas a newly-purchased dress— | ||
| "Oh! you nasty little Warment, | ||
| How came you in such a mess?"— | ||
| Then he caught me by the collar, | ||
| —Cruel only to be kind— | ||
| And to my exceeding dolour, | ||
| Gave me—several slaps behind. | ||
| Grandmama, while yet I smarted, | ||
| As she saw my evil plight, | ||
| Said—'twas rather stony hearted— | ||
| "Little rascal! sarve him right!" | ||
| I remember, I remember, | ||
| From that sad and solemn day, | ||
| Never more in dark December | ||
| Did I venture out to play. | ||
| And the moral, which they taught, | ||
| I Well remember; thus they said— | ||
| "Little Boys, when they are naughty, | ||
| Must be whipped and sent to bed!" | ||