Page:A book of nursery songs and rhymes (1895).pdf/96

 At last, when having caught enough, And tirèd too himself, He hastened home, intending there To put them on the shelf.

But as he jumped to reach a dish, To put his fishes in, A large meat-hook, that hung close by, Did catch him by the chin.

Poor Harry kicked and called aloud, And screamed and cried and roared, While from the wound the crimson blood In dreadful torrents poured.

The maids came running, frightened much To see him hanging there; And soon they took him from the hook, And set him in a chair.

The surgeon came and stopped the blood, And up he bound his head; And then they carried him upstairs, And laid him on his bed.

'Oh! oh!' said he, 'poor little fish, What tortures they have borne; While I, well pleased, have stood to see Their tender bodies torn