“I want my pants,” he says, “I’ll die unless
You let me out to get some exercise.”
She shook her head and looked him in the eyes
And told me it was second childishness
And that he wasn’t strong enough to dress—
Then out he jumped and started fer the door,
With nothin’ but his nightshirt on, and swore
He’d run away—he meant it, too, I guess.
But he was old and slow and she was spry,
And when he started to get out she caught