Cruel Frederick

Here is cruel Frederick, see! A horrid wicked boy was he;
He caught the flies, poor little things, And then tore off their tiny wings,

He killed the birds, and broke the chairs, And threw the kitten down the stairs;
And oh! far worse than all beside, He whipped his Mary, till she cried.

The trough was full, and faithful Tray, Came out to drink one sultry day;

He wagged his tail, and wet his lip, When cruel Fred snatched up a whip,
And whipped poor Tray till he was sore, And kicked and whipped him more and more:

At this, good Tray grew very red, And growled, and bit him till he bled;
Then you should only have been by, To see how Fred did scream and cry!

So Frederick had to go to bed: His leg was very sore and red!
The Doctor came, and shook his head,
And made a very great to-do, And gave him nasty physic too.

But good dog Tray is happy now; He has no time to say "Bow-wow!"
He seats himself in Frederick's chair And laughs to see the nice things there:
The soup he swallows, sup by sup — And eats the pies and puddings up.

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