The Little Mothers of the poor They lead a jolly life, I'm sure; For without being gray and old, They've all a mother's right to scold. As eagerly each day they meet To pass the gossip of the street, Her baby-cart, each states with pride, Is finest on the whole East side. And each, her small charge will declare The handsomest baby anywhere. Oh, Grown-up Mothers, learn to praise Your children and their pretty ways. |