Child! Do not throw this book about;

Refrain from the unholy pleasure

Of cutting all the pictures out!

Preserve it as your chiefest treasure.

Child, have you never heard it said

That you are heir to all the ages?

Why, then, your hands were never made

To tear these beautiful pages!

Your little hands were made to take

The better things and leave the worse ones,

They also may be used to shake

The Massive Paws of Elder Persons.

And when your prayers complete the day,

Darling, your little hands

Were also made, I think, to pray

For men that lose their fairylands.