12-10-03 @ 10:39 am EST

Just browsing about at online books. I was going to post the third part of my "Plot Ideas" entries, but I wanted to share this first...it's from an antiquarian book called Ditties For Children, by Nancy Sproat, published in the 1800s.

Read it to your own children and just watch their little faces light up with wisdom and joy!

THE LITTLE THIEF.

"Edward, come here--how pale you are!
What makes you look so wild?
And you've been crying sadly too;
What's happened to my child?"

"You know Mamma, you sent me down
To neighbor Brightman's shop,
With ninepence in my hand, to buy
A little humming-top.

Well neighbor Brightman handed down;
A dozen tops, or more,
For me to make a choice of one,
Then stepped towards the door.

So then I caught one slily up,
And in my pocket slid it,
That no one would suspect the thing,
So cunningly I hid it.

And so I bought another top,
And laid my ninepence down;
Then laughed to think I own'd them both,
But paid for only one.

But when I turn'd and left the shop,
I felt most dreadfully,--
For all the time I was in fear
That he would follow me.

For sure, thought I, he'll find it out,
The angry man will come,--
And I shall never see Mamma,
And never more go home.

He'll tie a rope around my neck,
And hang me up on high;
And leave the little wicked thief
To hang there till he die.

And then I scream'd, and ran so fast
Adown the nearest lane;
And then I turned and look'd behind,--
Then scream'd and ran again.

Trembling, at last, I reach'd my home,
And straight I went to bed--
But, oh! in such a shocking fright,
That I was almost dead.

No rest nor comfort could I get--
And not a wink of sleep,--
All I could do was toss and turn
From side to side, and weep.

And what was worst of all Mamma,
I could not say my prayers;
And then I thought my heart would burst
And I was drowned in tears.

No, no, I cried, God will not hear
A child so wicked, pray;
I dare not hope he'll let me live
To see another day.

Thus did I mourn till morning's dawn,
And yet found no relief--
For oh! what comfort can there be,
Or pleasure for a thief?"

"Go, my poor wretched guilty child,
Go take the top you stole,
And give it to the man you've wrong'd;
And own to him the whole.

Then on your knees before your God,
Confess how vile you've been--
Beg him to save you, and forgive
This great and dreadful sin.

And never, while you live, again
To such a deed consent,
Lest he should take away you[r] life,
Before you can repent."

http://www.merrycoz.org/books/ditties/DITTIES.HTM

Nothing works like the fear of God to make small children happy and obedient, by gum! The vile little wretches!

All righty, prepare yourself for my next entry...it's another humongo spoiler entry, so beware...