He can borrow an organ an' grind,
He can hobble about and beg.
Let him run—good luck behind him!...
I wonder which way they went?
I suppose I might follow an' find him.—
But no! let him keep to his bent!
I'm never a-going to go
For a boy that runs off with the show!
Lay his books up in the chamber;
He never will want them now;