George And The Chimney-Sweep
'Go, run below, George, in the court,
But go not in the street,
Lest boys with you should make some sport,
Or gipsies you should meet. '
Yet, though forbidden, he went out,
That other boys might spy,
And proudly there he walk'd about,
And thought–'How fine am I!' But whilst he strutted through the street,
With looks both vain and pert,
A sweep-boy pass'd, whom not to meet,
He slipp'd–into the dirt.
The sooty lad, whose heart was kind,
To help him quickly ran,
And grasp'd his arm, with–'Never mind,
You're up, my little man.'