Читать книгу Five Minute Stories - Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards - Страница 23

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I studied my arithmetic,

And then I went to bed,

And on my little pillow white

Laid down my little head.

I hoped for dreams of dear delight,

Of sugar-candy bliss;

But oh! my sleep, the livelong night,

Was filled with things like this.

Add forty jars of damson jam

To fifty loaves of cake,

Subtract a cow, and tell me how

Much butter it will make.

Then add the butter to the jam,

And give it to a boy,

How long will ’t take ere grievous ache

Shall dash his childish joy?

If twenty men stole thirty sheep

And sold them to the Pope,

What would they get if he should let

Them have the price in soap?

And if he slew each guileless beast,

And in pontific glee

Sold leg and loin for Roman coin,

What would his earnings be?

Next, if a Tiger climbed a tree

To get a cocoanut,

And if by hap the feline chap

Should find the shop was shut;

And if ten crabs with clawing dabs

Should pinch his Bengal toes,

What would remain when he should gain

The ground, do you suppose?

Divide a stick of licorice

By twenty infant jaws,

How long must each lose power of speech

In masticating pause?

And if these things are asked of you,

While you’re a-chewing of it,

What sum of birch, rod, pole or perch

Will be your smarting profit?

I woke upon my little bed

In anguish and in pain.

I’d sooner lose my brand-new shoes

Than dream those dreams again.

Oh! girls and boys, who crave the joys

Of slumber calm and deep,

Away then kick your ’rithmetic

Before you go to sleep!