"Oh,I have a cake, and a fine feast I'll make;
How nice to have all to myself!
I can eat every day while the rest are at play,
And then put it by on the shelf."
So said little John; and how soon it was gone!
For with zeal to his cake he applied;
While his fingers and thumbs, for the sweetmeats and plums,
Were hunting and digging beside.
But, painful to tell, is this that befell
Because of what little John did.
After eating his fill, he was taken so ill,
That the cause could no longer be hid.
As he grew worse and worse, a doctor and nurse
To cure John's ill feelings made haste.
Quite rightly you'll think, he had bitters to drink
So strong and unpleasant to taste.
And as on his bed he rolled his hot head,
Unhappy with sickness and pain;
He could not but take this advice from his cake,
"Do not be such a glutton again!"