Papa and Mamma went out to row,

And left us alone at home, you know,—

“My dears,” they said, “now play with your toys

Like dear little, good little, sweet little boys,

We played with our toys the longest while!

We built up the blocks for nearly a mile,—

But when they came tumbling down, alas!

They fell right against the looking-glass,—

Then we played the stairs were an Alpine peak,

And down we slid with shout and with shriek,—

But Jim caught his jacket upon a tack,

And I burst the buttons all off my back,

Then we found a pillow that had a rip,

And all the feathers we out did slip,—

And we made a snowstorm, a glorious one,

All over the room. Oh! wasn’t it fun,

But just as the storm was raging around,

Papa and Mamma came in, and found

Oh! terrible, terrible things they said!

And they put us all three right straight to bed,

With the empty pillow-case under our head,