For months this griping kept me riled,
And nearly set my mother wild.
At last our troubles seemed to wane,
I thought I’d bid adieu to pain,
When teething time, with all its pangs,
Commenced its course with piercing twangs;
My mother’d walk the floor by day—
My pa by night, I’ve heard them say.
My father, jolly, good, and kind,
Would often half make up his mind