Every day they took an airing;
Mummy made them each a bonnet;
Two were cherry, one was yellow
With a bow of ribbon on it.
Really, sometimes we would slap them,
For if ever we were talking,
They would giggle and be silly,
Saying, “Mamma, take us walking.”
But we never really loved them
Till one day we left them lying
In the garden—through a hail-storm,
And we heard the poor dears crying.
Half-Past-Six said—“You’re a mother!
What if Mummy did forget you?”
So I said, “Well, you’re their Father.
Get them!” but I wouldn’t let you.
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling inconsistences within poems were not changed, as they may be intentional.
Simple typographical errors were corrected.
Ellipses were retained as printed in the original book, whether mid-sentence, at the end of a line, or at the end of a sentence. The ellipsis in the title of the poem on [page 53] is shown here with three dots, as that matches its appearance in the Table of Contents and is consistent with other ellipses in this book.