The Dreadful Story about Harriet and the Matches
Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow!
Well it almost makes me cry to tell,
What foolish Harriet dost befell.
Mama and Nurse went out one day,
and left her all alone to play.
Well on the table, close at hand;
a box of matches close to stand.
Well mother and nurse had told her –
that if she touched them, they would scold her.
Well, Harriet said, “What a pitty –
cause when they burn, they seem so pretty!”
They crackle so, they split and flame.
Mama and Papa too often do the same.
So she wouldn’t take their advice.
She lit a match, it was so nice!
it crackled so, and burned so clear,
exactly like the picture here.
So she jumped for joy and she ran about,
and was too pleased to put it out.
When the pussycats, they saw this,
they said “Naughty, naughty, naughty Miss!”
Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow!
She’s burned to death! We told her so!
Well she was a dreadful, dreadful thing.
The fire had caught her apron strings!
She burned all over, eveywhere!
She burned her nose, and her arms and her hair.
‘till she had nothing left to lose,
Except her little scarlet shoes!
And only these, only these they found
amongst her ashes on the ground.
Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow!
She’s burned to death! We told her so!
Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow!
The pussycats, they sat beside
her streaming ashes, and they cried...
Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow!
She’s burned to death! We told her so.
Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow!
