The little children through that day, and throughout all the morrow,
From every thing about the house a mournful thought did borrow;
The very bread they had to eat was food unto their sorrow.
Oh! poverty is a weary thing, 'tis full of grief and pain;
It keepeth down the soul of man, as with an iron chain;
It maketh even the little child with heavy sighs complain.
Mary Howitt
96
A CHILD'S PET
When I sailed out of Baltimore