He talks so queer, an' rolls his eyes.
Ma jumps an' runs, an' all of us,
An' all the house is in a fuss.
An' peace and joy is mighty skeerce—
When Pa is sick, it's something fierce.
"Come upstairs, and let me wash your hands," said mother, when she arrived with her little daughter for tea at granny's.
"I don't want to go up," wailed Winnie, aged four.
"Let her wash them down in the kitchen," called grand-mamma. "She can do it just as well."
"No," her mother said firmly. "I want her to come up with me!"