Somebody's went an' throwed it down,—
It's the same with my books each day,
My bat an' ball, my mittens an' all,
Though I'm sure I put 'em away.
But I tell you this: if I ever find
Who that meddlesome "somebody" is,
I'll rout 'im, an' scout 'im, an' all that's about 'im,
I'll learn 'im to mind his biz.