"Ah, little boy, what want you here,
On such a bitter night?
Run home at once, you little dunce,
Or you'll be frozen quite."
The boy looked at his cheery face,
Yet hid his own in dread;
"I meant no harm, the place was warm,
And I am begging bread;
"And if you can a morsel spare,
I'll thank you, oh! so much,
For all day long I've begged and sung,
And never had a touch."
"Step in," then said the kindly man,
"And stand here in the hall,
You shall have bread, poor starving child,
I promise you you shall."
And off he went, and soon returned
With a thin, tempting slice,
And little Jemmy dapt his hands
And cried, "Oh, Sir, that's nice!"
"And what's your name, come tell me that?"
"My name is Jimmy Pool."
"And do you always beg all day
Instead of going to school?
"And can you read, and can you write?"
Poor Jimmy shook his head,
"No, sir, I have to beg all day,
At night I go to bed.
"My mother lays me on the floor,
Upon a little rug;
And I ne'er think of nothing more,
When I'm so warm and snug.
"Sometimes I wake, and when I do,
Unless it's almost day,
She's always there, upon her chair,
Working the night away.
"It isn't much that she can make,—
Sometimes I think she'd die,
But for her little Jimmy's sake,—
There's only her and I."