W illie laid his pencil down, And put his books away, And with a sad and peevish frown He hurried out to play. But as he ran, the blackbird's song From poplars in the lane, Rang out: 'You know that sum was wrong, And should be done again.' Yet Willie heeded not the sound; Pretended not to hear, Till trees, and hills and all around Kept singing in his ear: 'It's no use, Willie! Trust us, do! You can't enjoy the fun Until the task that's set for you Is well and justly done.' Then in a sad and sorry state He homeward turned amain: Took up his pencil and his slate And worked the sum again. This time the answer wasn't wrong, And as to play he went, His conscience sang an altered song Which made his heart content. |