  'Tis sad when boys are disinclin'd To benefit by kind advice; No little child of virtuous mind Should need receive a caution twice. The baker on a pony came (Oft us'd by them, and butchers too), And little Ben was much to blame For doing what he should not do. They told him not to mount the horse; Alas! he did; away they flew; In vain he pull'd with all his force, The pony ran a mile or two. At length poor little Ben was thrown; Ah! who will pity? who's to blame? Alas! the fault is all his own— Poor little Ben for life is lame! |
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