A very naughty boy was John; He quarreled with his food, And would not eat his bread and milk, As all good children should. It grieved his kind mamma to see How thin and thinner grew Her little John, in spite of all That she could say or do. | Above the chimney Father Stork Heard all that Johnny said, And how each day he pushed away The bowl of milk and bread. And so it was, when kind mamma Had left the house one day, In through the kitchen door he came And carried John away. | Upon the roof the little storks Live high up in the sky, And far below them in the street They hear the folks go by. The old stork brings them, in his beak, The eels and frogs for food; But these he will not let them have Unless they're very good. | Such things poor Johnny could not eat; And as he sat and cried, He thought of all the bread and milk He used to push aside. "If I were only home again, I would be good," he said, "And never, never turn away From wholesome milk and bread." | If little John was thin before, Now thinner every day He grew, until you'd think the wind Would carry him away. So, when at last he was so lean His bones seemed poking through, There came a sudden gust of wind, And, puff! away he blew. | And when it blew him to the street, How fast he hurried home! And, oh, how glad his mother was To see her Johnny come! But gladder still she was to find That he had grown so good, And never now would turn away From wholesome simple food. |
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