MAMMA AND THE BABY.
What a little thing am I!
Hardly higher than the table;
I can eat, and play, and cry,
But to work I am not able.
Nothing in the world I know,
But mamma will try and show me;
Sweet mamma, I love her so,
She’s so very kind unto me.
And she sets me on her knee
Very often for some kisses:
O! how good I’ll try to be,
To such a dear mamma as this is!