beth Barrow
The First Little Pet Book with Ten Short Stories in Words of Three and Four Letters
PREFACE TO MOTHERS
Many and many a time mothers have come to the author with the piteous plaint: "O Aunt Fanny! we are perfectly worn out with your 'Nightcaps,' 'Mittens,' and 'Socks;' we have read them to our little children, who have not yet conquered the compound mysteries of the alphabet, until we know them by heart; do, do write some books in words of one syllable, which they can read for themselves."
Now, I wonder if these good mothers can conceive what it is to write a story in words of one syllable, and make it interesting, sensible, and grammatical? If they can not, I entreat them to try a page or two of this utterly distracting style of composition; they will very soon have a realizing sense of the pleasing emotions of a lunatic confined in a strait-jacket. Above all, let them try a tale of joy or woe, all in words of three letters and less. Mother Goose could never have made her precious "high-diddle-diddle" nonsense in this way. I have tried frantically to spell "jolly" in three letters and "darling" in one syllable. How I have succeeded the books are submitted to show.
The mothers have wanted them, and I have written them – begging pardon of Mother Goose and Mr. Murray – and entreating that all short-comings, which in this case will mean all words too long, will be set down to want of power, not want of will, to delight and amuse the dear little darlings, the writing for whom is so rare a comfort to their loving
BAD OLD APE
One day Ned got a pie to eat. It was too hot, so he put it out in the air, on the lid of a big tin pot.
And now he ran off to see his dog who had a pup, and his cat who had a kit.
The pup lay in a box. Ned had got hay to put in the box for a bed; the pup lay on the hay, and the kit lay on a bit of rug.
Ned did pat the pup on his ear, and say: "O you pet! let me hug you." By and by, he did pat the kit too, and say: "Kit, kit, kit, can you eat pie – can you? Let me go and get you a bit." So he ran to his pie – but, O my! it was not on the lid of the big tin pot.
"Why, who can it be who has got my pie?" Ned did say. "Did it fly up in the air?"
"Why, Hal! did you get my pie?"
"No, not I. It is a tom-tit you see – not a pie."
"O yes! so it is, a wee tom-tit. If I can get my pie, the tom-tit, and you and I can eat it."
He got up on top of the tin pot to see far off, and he did cry out: "O my! I see it now! I see my pie! The sly old ape has got it, and he has eat a big bit out of it, too! Oh! oh! he will eat it all up! How can I get at him?"
And now the sly old ape, who had the pie in his paw, saw Ned, and Ned did say: "Now for a run!" So he did run, and the sly old ape did run, and the dog did run, and the cat did run, and the pup did run, and the kit did run, and all did run, and it was fun.
The ape did say, "Che! che!" and ate the pie as he ran. Ned did say: "O you bad old ape! O you bad old ape!" The dog did say: "Bow wow! Bow wow!" The cat did say: "Mew, mew!" The pup did say: "Yap! yap!" and the kit did cry: "Eee, eee!" Was it not a big run?
And now, was it not too bad in the sly old ape? for you see he ate the pie all up. Ned did not get one bit, and the kit did not get one bit. O my!
Let me say to you, if you get a pie, and it is too hot to eat, do not put it on the top of a big tin pot, in the air, and go off to see a cat or a dog, for if you do, may be a sly old ape may get at the pie, and eat it all up.
MOP, THE PET CAT
O Ned! the sun
Is in the sky,
And you in bed —
O fie! O fie!
Get up, get up,
And go and run
Out in the air,
For it is fun.
Sit in my lap,
As you may do,
So I can tie
The bow for you.
Now get the cap,
The new red top,
And let us go
To see old Mop,
My old pet cat,
Who has one eye —
For one is out,
Let me say why.
One day a dog,
A bad old cur,
Did fly at Mop,
He bit her fur.
He bit her ear;
How she did mew!
And all her leg,
He bit it too.
He dug his paw
Way in her eye,
And put it out,
And she did cry.
"Oh! mew, mew, mew!
Fit! fit! ee! eeeee!
My eye is out!
I can not see!
"And I may die;
Say, can it be?"
And up she got
To mew to me.
Oh! I was mad,
And I was sad,
For my pet cat
Was bit so bad.
But off I ran,
And in a bag,
Of old and new,
I got a rag:
And I did say:
"Let me, I beg,
Tie the old rag
On the bad leg."
My old pet cat
So sad did lie,
And I did say:
"Oh! she may die!"
Her eye was out,
And all the day
Up in my lap
My cat did lay.
She had a nap,
She had a sup,
And, by and by,
She did get up.
And now her leg
And fur are new,
And she can run
To me and you.
The bad old dog
Did
