Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/106



HA! a traitor in the camp, A rebel strangely bold,— A lisping, laughing, toddling scamp, Not more than four years old!

To think that I, who've ruled alone So proudly in the past, Should be ejected from my throne By my own son at last!

He trots his treason to and fro, As only babies can, And says he'll be his mamma's beau When he's a "great, big man"!

You stingy boy! you've always had A share in mamma's heart. Would you begrudge your poor old dad The tiniest little part?