To my mother for protection I ran, quaking every limb: —She exclaimed, with fond affection, "Gracious Goodness! look at him!"—
Pa cried, when he saw my garment, —'Twas a newly-purchased dress— "Oh! you nasty little Warment, How came you in such a mess?"
Then he caught me by the collar, —Cruel only to be kind— And to my exceeding dolour, Gave me—several slaps behind.
Grandmama, while yet I smarted, As she saw my evil plight, Said—'twas rather stony-hearted— "Little rascal! sarve him right!"
I remember, I remember, From that sad and solemn day, Never more in dark December Did I venture out to play.
And the moral, which they taught, I Well remember; thus they said— "Little Boys, when they are naughty, Must be whipped and sent to bed!"
