 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
12
BOBBY'S TEMPER
Becoming tired of history, geography, and words,
The colours and the habits and the favourite food of birds,
Quite suddenly he shouted out, “It's horrid to be good!
I'm going to be badder than you wouldn't think I could!”
The colours and the habits and the favourite food of birds,
Quite suddenly he shouted out, “It's horrid to be good!
I'm going to be badder than you wouldn't think I could!”
He flung the inkwell at the cat, the paint-box at the dog,
The poker seized, and tomahawked Estella's crimson frog;
He yelled, “Beware the Indian Brave!” and butted with his head
The nurse, who shook him like a rat and bundled him to bed.
The poker seized, and tomahawked Estella's crimson frog;
He yelled, “Beware the Indian Brave!” and butted with his head
The nurse, who shook him like a rat and bundled him to bed.
She took his clothes away from him, and there for hours he lay
And thought of plans for scalping her to-morrow or next day;
For still the wicked temper kept on bubbling in his heart
And wouldn't let the Fairy of Repentance make a start!
And thought of plans for scalping her to-morrow or next day;
For still the wicked temper kept on bubbling in his heart
And wouldn't let the Fairy of Repentance make a start!
When Mother came from London, by the train at half-past six,
She heard, with overflowing eyes, of Bobby's dreadful tricks;
But when he saw her face, he cried, as near the bed she stood,
“Oh, Mammy, I'll be gooder than you wouldn't think I could!”
She heard, with overflowing eyes, of Bobby's dreadful tricks;
13
“Oh, Mammy, I'll be gooder than you wouldn't think I could!”
| A merry-go-round of song | |