Augustus was a chubby lad;

Fat, ruddy cheeks Augustus had;

And everybody saw with joy

the plump and hearty, healthy boy.

He ate and drank as he was told,

And never let his soup get cold.

But one day, one cold winter's day,

He screamed out—"Take the soup away!

O take the nasty soup away!

I won't have any soup today."

Next day begins his tale of woes;

Quite lank and lean Augustus grows.

Yet, though he feels so weak and ill,

The naughty fellow cries out still—

"Not any soup for me, I say;

O take the nasty soup away!

I won't have any soup today."

The third day comes; O what a sin!

To make himself so pale and thin.

Yet, when the soup is put on table,

He screams as lout as he is able—

"Not any soup for me, I say:

O take the nasty soup away!

I won't have any soup today."

Look at him, now the fourth days' come!

He scarcely weighs a sugar-plum;

He's like a little bit of thread,

And on the fifth day, he was—dead!

—Heinrich Hoffman