Читать книгу Boys and Girls. The Verses of James W. Foley онлайн

16 страница из 29

An’ says she hates to do it, ’cuz it hurts her ’ist as bad

As it does anybody w’en she w’ips her little lad.

An’ ’en at night she kisses you an’ puts you into bed

An’ tucks the covers in an’ says you’re Mamma’s Turly-head,

An’ my! she’s ’ist so lovely! An’ she sits beside of you

’Ist ’cuz she feels so sorry over w’at she had to do.

An’ ’en she leaves the candle burn an’ says for you to call

If you want anything from her, an’ you ain’t scairt at all!

But w’en you get a scoldin’ she don’t never bring you pie,

Becuz you’ll surely break her heart; an’ ’en she starts to cry;

An’ my! you feel so sorry, an’ you wisht she wouldn’t, ’cuz

It shows you how you’ve grieved her an’ how turble bad you wuz.

An’ all day long she never smiles; an’ w’en you go to bed

She never leaves the candle burn or calls you Turly-head.

An’ sometimes you see big, w’ite things a-lookin’ at your bed,

’At makes you scairt an’ pull the covers up above your head,

An’ ’en you s’pose how would you feel if Mamma wuz to die,