Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/34

 Sometimes there are griefs to soothe,

Sometimes ruffled brows to smooth;

For (I much regret to say)

Tippytoe and Pittypat

Sometimes interrupt their play

With an internecine spat;

Fie, for shame! to quarrel so—

Pittypat and Tippytoe!

Oh, the thousand worrying things

Every day recurrent brings!

Hands to scrub and hair to brush,

Search for playthings gone amiss,

Many a wee complaint to hush,

Many a little bump to kiss;

Life seems one vain, fleeting show

To Pittypat and Tippytoe!

And when day is at an end,

There are little duds to mend:

Little frocks are strangely torn,

Little shoes great holes reveal,

Little hose, but one day worn,

Rudely yawn at toe and heel!

Who but you could work such woe,

Pittypat and Tippytoe?

But when comes this thought to me:

"Some there are that childless be,"