Читать книгу The Poetry Collections of Lewis Carroll - Lewis Carroll - Страница 7

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“Sister, sister, go to bed!

Go and rest your weary head.”

Thus the prudent brother said.

“Do you want a battered hide,

Or scratches to your face applied?”

Thus his sister calm replied.

“Sister, do not raise my wrath.

I’d make you into mutton broth

As easily as kill a moth!”

The sister raised her beaming eye

And looked on him indignantly

And sternly answered, “Only try!”

Off to the cook he quickly ran.

“Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan

To me as quickly as you can.”

“And wherefore should I lend it you?”

“The reason, Cook, is plain to view.

I wish to make an Irish stew.”

“What meat is in that stew to go?”

“My sister’ll be the contents!”

“Oh!”

“You’ll lend the pan to me, Cook?”

“No!”

Moral: Never stew your sister.