A noisy boisterous child was Ann, And very far from good; She did not play the pleasant games That little children should; With rumpled hair and dresses torn She came home every day; In vain mamma said, "Ann, pray learn To be less rude at play." | Now little Ann came home one time In a most piteous plight, For she had fallen in the mud; Indeed she was a sight. The housemaid standing in the door Exclaimed, "What child is this?" "Why, Hannah, can't you see I'm Ann?" Cried out the little miss. | "Our little Ann in rags and dirt, Her hair all out of curl; No, no," cried Hannah; "run away, You little beggar girl. If it is scraps of bread you want Go to the kitchen door; I can't believe you're any child I ever saw before." | Now Ann has to the kitchen run With tears and streaming eyes; "Oh, dear cook, please to let me in: I'm little Ann," she cries. "What little Ann?" the good cook says; "Indeed that cannot be. Our Ann would never wear such rags I'm very sure; not she!" | But as Ann, weeping, turned away, Her little dog ran out, And he began to lick her hands, And bark and jump about. "Why, why," cried cook, "I never saw Dog Towzer act that way, Except when little Ann came home From school or after play." | "And now I look again," she said, "You are our little Ann. Come in and wash and mend your frock, As quickly as you can." Now from that day the little miss Has played less boisterous plays, And been more tidy in her dress And quiet in her ways. |
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