From “The English Struwwelpeter” HERE is cruel Frederick, see! A horrid wicked boy was he; He caught the flies, poor little things, And then tore off their tiny wings. He killed the birds, and broke the chairs, And threw the kitten down the stairs; And Oh! far worse than all beside, He whipped his Mary, till she cried. The trough was full, and faithful Tray Came out to drink one sultry day; He wagged his tail, and wet his lip, When cruel Fred snatched up a whip, And whipped poor Tray till he was sore, And kicked and whipped him more and more: At this, good Tray grew very red, And growled and bit him till he bled; Then you should only have been by, To see how Fred did scream and cry! So Frederick had to go to bed; His leg was very sore and red! The Doctor came and shook his head, And made a very great-to-do, And gave him nasty physic too. But good dog Tray is happy now; He has no time to say “Bow-wow!” He seats himself in Frederick’s chair, And laughs to see the nice things there: The soup he swallows sup by sup, And eats the pies and puddings up.
The Story of Cruel Frederick
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