CROSS little Patty sat under a tree, 

As fretful as ever a child could be. 

"Keep still!" to a singing-bird she said; 

"You are out of tune, 'and you hurt my head." 

"Do stop!" she cried, to a dancing brook. 

A lamb and a pussycat came to look 

At cross little Patty beneath the tree, 

As fretful as ever a child could be. 

The pussycat wondered to see her pout, 

And the frisky lambkin skipped about; 

But the brook tripped on over stones and moss, 

And never found out that Patty was cross. 

The bird in the treetop sang away, 

And these were the words she meant to say: 

"You poor little girl, why can't you see 

That there's nothing at all the matter with me? 

"Mend your manners, my dearie, soon, 

Or you'll find the whole world out of tune." 

Somehow the wind in the leafy tree 

And the rippling water so wild and free, 

The bird on the bough, and the snow-white lamb, 

And the gentle pussy so mild and calm, 

Made Patty ashamed of her naughty mood; 

She shook herself well, and said, "I'll be good." 

And, presto! The Patty beneath the tree 

Was just as sweet as a child could be.


—Christian Chronicle.