O Doctor Watts, thou didst not right In telling dogs to bark and bite! O Towser, thou didst little know How great the wreck thy wrath would show! The man who says that childhood’s woes Are small, but little childhood knows. The children wept and scolded sore, And Towser they would love no more! But through their tears like summer rain, The sun of hope shone out again. One glad discovery came to light, “The pumpkin isn’t hurt a mite!” |