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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Well, I tould ye the way he was punishin'
These beetles and things—it was raelly astonishin'—
And stores and stores; and so, if ye plaze,
He took and made a sort of a case—
And every inseck with a little hook through
And a pane in the lid for a body to look through—
For you mustn' open—all hatches battened
On Tommy's decks; and the flowers he flattened
(And still there wasn' room for half)
In a big ould Bible he found on the laft.
And often of an everin'
The misthress would ax him to bring them in,
And Tommy would sit, and Tommy would 'splain—
And who so happy as Missis Cain?
These beetles and things—it was raelly astonishin'—
And stores and stores; and so, if ye plaze,
He took and made a sort of a case—
And every inseck with a little hook through
And a pane in the lid for a body to look through—
For you mustn' open—all hatches battened
On Tommy's decks; and the flowers he flattened
(And still there wasn' room for half)
In a big ould Bible he found on the laft.
And often of an everin'
The misthress would ax him to bring them in,
And Tommy would sit, and Tommy would 'splain—
And who so happy as Missis Cain?
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |