Inside of me says I am naughty, But truly, I know I am not; For if Brother Joe could see me Right in this very same spot, He'd let me do just what I'm doing, I'm very sure; that is, perhaps. Oh dear! however do big folks Hold this thing straight in their laps? It slips, an' it slips, an' it slips, You naughty old Banjo, oh dear! Is he coming? then what will he do To find me sitting up here! Ho, ho! 'twas a mouse —how silly An' frightened I've actually been; For he'd say, "If you hold it quite still, You may take it, I'm willing, Corinne!" I know: so now I'll begin it; How does he go "tum-ty tum ting," An' make such beautiful tunes; Too lovely for anything? I ain't a bit 'fraid they may hear, —The house-people 'way off below— Me playing in Brother Joe's room, Still I better be careful, you know. If they didn't say 'twas amusing, I sh'd think 'twas stupid to play, To tug at such tiresome strings An' make them come over this way; But it must be delightful. I'll pull A very fine tune at first; Now, "tum-ty ting tw-a-n-g!" It sound's as if something had burst! That string must 'a' truly been cracked, Don't you s'pose? or moth-eaten, p'raps; 'Tisn't pleasant to practice, I'm sure, But forlorn, when anything flaps. So I guess I have finished; hark, hark! He really IS coming—Oh my! Now, Banjo, I know mamma wants me, An' so I must bid you good-by! MARGARET SIDNEY.
Mr. Bunny was a rabbit, Mr. Bunny was a thief! He hopped into my garden And stole a cabbage leaf. He ate up all my parsnips Without asking if he may, And when I tried to catch him Kicked up his heels and ran away.
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