The Story of Cruel Frederick

Heinrich Hoffmann (1809–1894)

From “The English Struwwelpeter”

HERE is cruel Frederick, see!

A horrid wicked boy was he;

He caught the flies, poor little things,

And then tore off their tiny wings.

He killed the birds, and broke the chairs,

And threw the kitten down the stairs;

And Oh! far worse than all beside,

He whipped his Mary, till she cried.

The trough was full, and faithful Tray

Came out to drink one sultry day;

He wagged his tail, and wet his lip,

When cruel Fred snatched up a whip,

And whipped poor Tray till he was sore,

And kicked and whipped him more and more:

At this, good Tray grew very red,

And growled and bit him till he bled;

Then you should only have been by,

To see how Fred did scream and cry!

So Frederick had to go to bed;

His leg was very sore and red!

The Doctor came and shook his head,

And made a very great-to-do,

And gave him nasty physic too.

But good dog Tray is happy now;

He has no time to say “Bow-wow!”

He seats himself in Frederick’s chair,

And laughs to see the nice things there:

The soup he swallows sup by sup,

And eats the pies and puddings up.