And ’gainst the window-pane
The fierce north wind sent sudden spiteful flurries
Of mingled sleet and rain.
My easy-chair was drawn before the fire,
Benny was on my knee,
When low he whispered, “I don’t see, Aunt Dolly,
When folks are small like me,
“How they get on without a nice big brother.
Why, even Tommie Stead—
Who bullies all my mates—don’t dare touch me;