Willie got punished at school to-day!
What did he do?
Why, he drew on his slate, in a comical way,
Pictures of horses and oxen, and they
Seemed to be dancing a real Irish jig!
Yes, and he, too, had a little wee pig
Down in the corner, as cute as could be;
All of us laughed such a picture to see!
That was the morning before recess,
When he threw paper balls at sly little Bess;
And one hit her plump on her fat little nose,
And made us all laugh, as you may well suppose;
And he pulled some one's hair as they went out to spell,
But who cried out nobody would tell.
And then, let me see; why he stepped on my toes,
And balanced his book on the tip of his nose
When the teacher wasn't looking, and then, O, dear me,
He made some whiskers as black as could be
With the cork of the ink-bottle rubbed on his cheek,
And we all laughed till we hardly could speak.
The teacher caught him, and punished him well;
Not half the words that were his could he spell;
And in the arithmetic he had to guess
Half of the answers and wished they were less.
All he has gained by his actions to-day,
Is a black mark and his ill-timed play.