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Title: Old Mother Webtoes
Author: Katharine Pyle [
More Titles by Pyle]
"Oh please mamma," said little Jane,
"May I go out to play?"
"No, no," her mother answered her;
"I fear 'twill rain to-day."
"With my umbrella green," said Jane,
"I will not mind the wet."
But still mamma replied, "No, no;
A cold I fear you'd get."
But oh, Jane was a naughty girl!
On her own way intent;
Soon as mamma had turned away,
Out in the street she went.
The streets were wet and lonely;
No children there at play;
Only old Mother Webtoes
The frog abroad that day.
Now little Jane she seizes,
In spite of all her cries,
And green umbrella, Jane and all,
Away with her she flies.
Far, far off in the river,
Upon a moisty stone,
Old Webtoes and her children
Live in a hut alone;
And Jane's big green umbrella
Old Webtoes hides away;
She makes her sweep, she makes her scrub;
Jane has no time to play.
She spreads a bed of rushes,
Where Jane may sleep at night,
And wakes her in the morning
As soon as it is light.
"Get up," cries Mother Webtoes;
"The breakfast you must get."
"Oh let me stay in bed," says Jane;
"The floor is cold and wet."
But Mother Webtoes stamps her foot,
And makes the child arise;
But as Jane sobs, behind the door,
Ah, what is this she spies?
It is her green umbrella;
She sets it now afloat,
And down the river in it sails,
As if it were a boat.
"Oh Mother Webtoes, only look,"
She hears the young frogs scream;
"The little girl you brought to us
Is sailing down the stream."
But Jane is quite too far away
For them to catch her then,
And when at last she drifts ashore
She sees her home again.
She rushes to her mother's arms
With sobs and streaming eyes--
"Oh mother, mother dear, forgive
Your naughty Jane," she cries.
[The end]
Katharine Pyle's poem: Old Mother Webtoes
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