ee,

The Three Bears.

AIR little Silverlocks, beautiful child,

Abounding in spirits and p’raps rather wild,
Of her home she’s the sunshine, the joy, and the life,
To the honest young farmer and his honoured wife.
Far away through the fields she delighted to ride—
Yea, mile after mile—no one else by her side.
Then away in the forest she’d ramble, in quest
Of a handful of nuts or a chaffinch’s nest.
One day she rose early, the woods to explore,
And ventured still further than ever before,
When she came to a castle of mud, sticks, and stones :
“Oh, I wonder,’ thought she, ‘who this funny place owns ?
It appears a new place, but is almost a ruin;
Oh, I see there’s a name—he is called Mr. Bruin.
IT will tap at the door, and may p’raps peep inside ;
I can ask for some water, my real thoughts to hide.’
She knocked, and she knocked, and she pulled at the bell,
But as nobody came she the latch raised as well,
And walked into a parlour, where she found three chairs,
And a painting in oil of three comical bears.
The first chair was wood, and the next chair was leather ;
But the third, made of cane, pleased her most altogether :
So she plumped herself down, but arose with a shout,
For her sudden descent had the bottom knocked out.
Then her eyes met the picture, and didn’t they stare,
The large, and the little, and middling bear!
Then she strayed to the kitchen, and found, steaming hot,
Some savoury porridge just turned from the pot ;
Which pleased her so much by its delicious smell,
That it soon was applied to her palate as well.
But of all the three basonsful, one, like a cup,
Was the coolest, and thus she soon gobbled it up.