Is it, mamma?"
_Mrs. B._ No my dear; there will be quite time enough for you to repeat
them to your papa. But first tell him on what occasion they were
written.
_Sophy._ A good while ago, grand-papa had two nice little pigs, and they
one day found some paint in a pot, and thinking it something nice, they
ate it. There is something in paint that is poison, papa: pray, what is
it?
Mr. Bernard told Sophy that it was white-lead.
_Sophy._ Oh, well then, the white-lead that was in the paint, poisoned
these poor little pigs; and grand-papa had them buried in the orchard,
and wrote the verses, which mamma taught me, over their grave. Now do
you understand, papa? May I begin?
Mr. Bernard assured Sophy he understood her explanation perfectly well,
and was all attention, waiting for her recital.
Upon which she immediately repeated as follows:
"Ye passing pigs, I pray draw nigh, And hear a dreadful tragedy, Of two
fine pigs, as e'er were seen Grazing or grunting on the green: Till on a
time, and near this spot, We chanc'd to spy a painter's pot, White-lead
and oil it did contain, By which we pretty pigs were slain; Therefore a
warning let us be To future pigs, who this may see, With life prolong'd,
and free from pains, To be content with wash and grains."
_Mr. B._ Very well, Sophy. Here is a lesson for little boys and girls,
as well as pigs. Tell me what you have learnt from those lines.
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