And you'll promise to make me a book like that little one up on the
shelf,
And you'll call her "Naomi," because it's a name that she just gave
herself;
For she'd scratch at my door in the morning, and whenever I'd call
out, "Who's there?"
She would answer, "Naomi! Naomi!" like a Christian, I vow and declare.
And you'll put me and her in a book. And mind, you're to say I was
bad;
And I might have been badder than that but for the example I had.
And you'll say that she was a Maltese, and--what's that you asked?
"Is she dead?"
Why, please, sir, THERE AIN'T ANY CAT! You're to make one up out of
your head!
MISS EDITH MAKES IT PLEASANT FOR BROTHER JACK
"Crying!" Of course I am crying, and I guess you would be crying,
too,
If people were telling such stories as they tell about me, about YOU.
Oh yes, you can laugh if you want to, and smoke as you didn't care
how,
And get your brains softened like uncle's. Dr. Jones says you're
gettin' it now.
Why don't you say "Stop!" to Miss Ilsey? She cries twice as much as
I do,
And she's older and cries just from meanness,--for a ribbon or
anything new.
Ma says it's her "sensitive nature." Oh my! No, I sha'n't stop my
talk!
And I don't want no apples nor candy, and I don't want to go take a
walk!
I know why you're mad! Yes, I do, now! You think that Miss Ilsey
likes YOU,
And I've heard her REPEATEDLY call you the bold-facest boy that she
knew;
And she'd "like to know where you learnt manners.
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