A BOY'S MOTHER

    MY mother she's so good to me,
    Ef I was good as I could be,
    I couldn't be as good—no, sir!—
    Can't any boy be good as her!

    She loves me when I'm glad er sad;
    She loves me when I'm good er bad;
    An', what's a funniest thing, she says
    She loves me when she punishes.

    I don't like her to punish me.—
    That don't hurt,—but it hurts to see
    Her cryin'.—Nen I cry; an' nen
    We both cry an' be good again.

    She loves me when she cuts an' sews
    My little cloak an' Sund'y clothes;
    An' when my Pa comes home to tea,
    She loves him most as much as me.

    She laughs an' tells him all I said,
    An' grabs me up an' pats my head;
    An' I hug her, an' hug my Pa
    An' love him purt' nigh as much as as Ma.