N Fairy-land, long years ago,
There lived a tiny Elf,
Who studied hard from morn till eve,
Just to amuse himself.
His copy-books he never soiled—
I know it for a fact—
Nor was he ever known, to do
A single naughty act.
And if there came to him a chance
Of fishing in the pool,
He'd shake his head and say, 'No, thanks;
I'd rather be in school.'
The 'tuck-shop' he could freely pass,
With ne'er a backward look,
Because his little eyes were glued
Upon his lesson-book.
But if my tale seems strange to you,
I'd have you understand
An Elf like this is seldom found,
Except in Fairy-land.