The Pup

He tore the curtains yesterday,    And scratched the paper on the wall;

Ma's rubbers, too, have gone astray—    She says she left them in the hall;

He tugged the table cloth and broke    A fancy saucer and a cup;

Though Bud and I think it a joke    Ma scolds a lot about the pup.

The sofa pillows are a sight,    The rugs are looking somewhat frayed,

And there is ruin, left and right,    That little Boston bull has made.

He slept on Buddy's counterpane—    Ma found him there when she woke up.

I think it needless to explain    She scolds a lot about the pup.

And yet he comes and licks her hand    And sometimes climbs into her

And there,

Bud lets me understand,    He very often takes his nap.

And Bud and I have learned to know    She wouldn't give the rascal up:

She's really fond of him, although    She scolds a lot about the pup.

Taken from Just Folks by Edgar A

Published by The Reilly & Lee Co.,

Chicago,

Page 23