But hers is not the kind that they can buy—
The beauty that she’s got grew there to stay.
IX.
ONCE, when her instrument was workin’ bad
She jerked the thing and hit it with her fist
And nearly broke her round, soft little wrist—
I never s’posed that she could get so mad.
When I told ma it seemed to make her glad.
She says a girl that looks as nice as pie
Sometimes has awful thoughts: I wonder why