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Сильная вещь

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The Night Wanderer

When other children were asleep
Our Oswald down the stairs would creep,
And to the fields he'd steal away,
Quite slyly by himself to play.
Sometimes he took the powder-horn,
And with the powder burnt the corn;
Sometimes he hid behind a tree,
And rushing out quite suddenly,
Would make a loud and fearful cry,
And frighten all the passers-by.
Indeed, it was his chief delight
To run away from home at night.
His parents shook their heads, and said,
“Oh, Oswald, stay at home in bed,
For if you out at night do roam
A bat you surely will become.”
But all their talking was in vain;
Still Oswald would go out again;
But, oh! just as his friends had said,
One night, as round the fields he sped,
Upon him came a wondrous change;
“Ah, me!” he cried, "How very strange!
I feel that I become so small
And now I cannot walk at all.
I put my hands up to my head,
But find a bat's face in its stead;-
And now - my hands are gone. Oh dear!
Instead of arms what have I here?
Such very, very curious things.
Why, can they be? Oh, yes, they're wings.
Alas! Alas! What shall I do?
My parents' words are coming true.
An ugly bat I have become,
And never more shall I go home.”
Oh! yes, my dears, it was too true;
An ugly bat away he flew;
His parents' tears streamed down like rain;
They never saw their child again.

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Сцуко бритиши! Ненавижу вас! ^_^ Floahh