Child! do not throw this book about;
Refrain from the unholy pleasure
Of cutting all the pictures out!
Preserve it as your chiefest treasure.

This admonitory stanza comes from Hilaire Belloc’s comic “cautionary” verse for children, written in the early 20th century in the tradition of moralizing nursery literature (and in playful dialogue with Heinrich Hoffmann’s Struwwelpeter). Belloc, a prolific Anglo-French man of letters, often used mock-serious moral tones to satirize adult didacticism while still delighting child readers. The lines function as a prefatory warning to young owners of illustrated books—an era when children’s picture books were prized objects and also tempting targets for rough handling, scribbling, or cutting out illustrations for scrapbooks.

On the surface, the speaker scolds a child for mistreating a book—throwing it about and, worst of all, cutting out the pictures. The humor lies in the exaggerated moral language (“unholy pleasure,” “chiefest treasure”), which mimics pious instruction while acknowledging the real, mischievous delight children may take in destruction. Belloc’s verse thus works in two directions: it reinforces respect for books as valued objects, yet it also gently mocks the sanctimonious adult voice that tries to regulate childish impulses. The rhyme and rhythm make the reprimand memorable, turning etiquette into entertainment.