Twilight stories | ||
CORINNE'S MUSICALE.
INSIDE of me says I am naughty,
But truly, I know I am not;
For if Brother Joe could see me
Right in this very same spot,
He'd let me do just
what I'm doing,
I'm very sure; that is,
perhaps.
Oh dear! however do
big folks
Hold this thing
straight in their
laps?
But truly, I know I am not;
For if Brother Joe could see me
Right in this very same spot,
He'd let me do just
what I'm doing,
I'm very sure; that is,
perhaps.
Oh dear! however do
big folks
Hold this thing
straight in their
laps?
It slips, an' it slips, an'
it slips,
You naughty old
Banjo, oh dear!
it slips,
You naughty old
Banjo, oh dear!
Is he coming? then what
will he do
To find me sitting up
here!
Ho, ho! 'twas a mouse
—how silly
An' frightened I've actually been;
For he'd say, ``If you hold it quite still,
You may take it, I'm willing, Corinne!''
will he do
To find me sitting up
here!
Ho, ho! 'twas a mouse
—how silly
An' frightened I've actually been;
For he'd say, ``If you hold it quite still,
You may take it, I'm willing, Corinne!''
I know: so now I'll begin it;
How does he go ``tum-ty tum ting,''
An' make such beautiful tunes;
Too lovely for anything?
I ain't a bit 'fraid they may hear,
—The house-people 'way off below—
Me playing in Brother Joe's room,
Still I better be careful, you know.
How does he go ``tum-ty tum ting,''
An' make such beautiful tunes;
Too lovely for anything?
I ain't a bit 'fraid they may hear,
—The house-people 'way off below—
Me playing in Brother Joe's room,
Still I better be careful, you know.
If they didn't say 'twas amusing,
I sh'd think 'twas stupid to play,
To tug at such tiresome strings
An' make them come over this way;
But it must be delightful. I'll pull
A very fine tune at first;
Now, ``tum-ty ting tw-a-n-g!''
It sound's as if something had burst!
I sh'd think 'twas stupid to play,
To tug at such tiresome strings
An' make them come over this way;
But it must be delightful. I'll pull
A very fine tune at first;
Now, ``tum-ty ting tw-a-n-g!''
It sound's as if something had burst!
That string must 'a' truly been cracked,
Don't you s'pose? or moth-eaten, p'raps;
'Tisn't pleasant to practice, I'm sure,
But forlorn, when anything flaps.
So I guess I have finished; hark, hark!
He really is coming—Oh my!
Now, Banjo, I know mamma wants me,
An' so I must bid you good-by!
Don't you s'pose? or moth-eaten, p'raps;
'Tisn't pleasant to practice, I'm sure,
But forlorn, when anything flaps.
So I guess I have finished; hark, hark!
He really is coming—Oh my!
Now, Banjo, I know mamma wants me,
An' so I must bid you good-by!
MARGARET SIDNEY.
Twilight stories | ||