Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/83

 An' so she's sorry that she come,

An' though she allus tries to hide

The truth, she'd ruther stay to hum

Than wonder ef the baby cried.

Yes, wimmin folks is all alike—

By Lizzie you kin jedge the rest;

There never wuz a little tyke,

But that his mother loved him best.

And nex' to bein' what I be—

The husband uv my gentle bride—

I'd wisht I wuz that croodlin' wee,

With Lizzie wonderin' ef I cried.