OOO—OOH! Once upon a time there was a little bear just about as big as you, who did not want porridge for breakfast. Every morning he would climb into his high chair and wiggle his nose and shake his head and pound his spoon down on the tray and cry in his little bear voice, “I don’t want porridge for breakfast!” Then his big Bear Mother would get the switch that hung in the corner and cry in her big, deep Mother Bear voice, “Eat up your porridge or—” Then she would shake the switch and the little Bear would gobble up his porridge so fast that it would scald his throat.
One morning, while his mother was stirring up the yellow porridge in the big black pot, the little bear slid out of bed and went tiptoeing out of the house on his little bear toes. “I don’t want porridge for breakfast,” cried he in his little bear voice as he ran down the road.
And he ran and ran—and RAN until he came to Mother Fox’s house. “Come in,” said Mother Fox, “and have some breakfast with us!” All the little foxes were sitting around the table eating out of yellow bowls. Then Mother Fox brought him a yellow bowl. Ooo-ooh! It was porridge! The little bear sniffed and snuffed and then he cried in his little bear voice, “I don’t want porridge for breakfast!” And he slid down from the table and ran out of the house.
And he ran and ran—and ran until he came to Mother Wolf’s house. “Come in,” said Mother Wolf, “and have some breakfast with us!” All the little wolves were sitting around the table lapping out of a big black pan. “Help yourself!” said Mother Wolf. The little bear sniffed and sniffed. Ooo—ooh! It was porridge! “I don’t want porridge for breakfast,” cried the little bear in his little bear voice, and he slid down from the table and ran out of the house.
And he ran and ran—and RAN until he came to Mother Lion’s house. “Come in,” said Mother Lion, “and have some breakfast with us!” All the little lions were sitting round the table, but there was NOTHING on the table at all. “Ooo—ooh, what are you going to have for breakfast?” cried the little bear voice. “YOU!” roared the Mother Lion. “YOU!” roared all the little lions.
And jumping upon the little bear they GOBBLED HIM ALL UP.
How They Do It in Supposyville
Awakes on Easter day, dears,
The golden chimes a thousand times
Begin to toll and play, dears,
The old glad Easter carols, and
Each door’s a very bower,
With hyacinths and daffodils
And roses all in flower.
The Queen has seen to that, you know;
And on my word, the King
Himself has helped the Easter bunny.
Rabbits kindly bring
Each lad and lass an Easter nest,
And even the royal horses
Are not forgotten and enjoy
Delicious Easter courses!
They don’t go ’way on Easter day,
But stay home all together,
These dear Supposy People and
With hearts as light as heather
They go to church, and after that
In all their togs of spring
Hie joyously to call upon
Each other and the King!
And there upon the palace green
The youngsters roll their eggs,
And the little live white rabbits hop
About and stretch their legs.
And all the artists of the court,
With paint and brush and jollity,
Paint faces on the hard-boiled eggs
Of mirth-provoking quality.
The Easter Bunny peering from
His home on Sugar Hill
On all the world looks longest down
On dear Supposyville.
And chuckles as his telescope
Shows all their artless merriment,
So free from stress and wickedness,
From war and woe and worriment!