OH, FIE, AMELIA.

[seminarist]

"Oh, fie, Amelia; I'm ashamed
To hear you quarrel so:
Leave off those naughty tricks, my child -
Go play with your sister, go."

"I sha'n't, mamma, the little girl
May play with whom she can;
And while she lives, she shall not have
My waxen doll again."

"Poor little Betsey Smith, she sits
Day after day alone;
She had a darling sister once,
But now she's dead and gone.

"Betsey was quite a fretful child,
And when she used to play
With pretty little Emeline,
She quarreled every day.

"One day her sister said to her,
'Don't, Betsey, be so cross;
Indeed, I am not well today,
And fear I shall be worse.'

" 'Not well? Oh yes, you're very sick!
I don't believe it's true;
You only want to coax mamma
To get nice things for you.'

"But Emma lingered here a while,
Then closed her eyes and died:
Ah, who can tell the sorrow now,
That fills poor Betsey's mind?

"And now she goes away and sits,
Day after day alone;
She does not want to sing or play,
Since sister Emma's gone."