But he’s used to disappointments now,
And takes up his beaten track;
Nobody’s dog, for nobody cares
For poor, unfortunate Jack.
Johnny’s Soliloquy.
It seems to be father’s greatest joy
To tell what he did when he was a boy.
Nothing very wonderful, so far’s I can see;
And it seems pretty rough on a fellow like me,
When I’ve worked like a man all the long summer day—