Subscribe..
MY PA
My pa’s the sweetest, dearest pa.
‘At lives ‘ist anywhere;
When Mary tucks me n at night
He hollers from the stair,–
“Oh where’s pa’s onliest little girl?
She’s lost here somewhere round!”
An’ ‘en I cover up my head
An’ ‘tend I’m sleepin’ sound.
An’’en he hunts all round the room
Until he finds me there,
An’ growls an’ laughs, an’ tickles me
An’ I ‘ist grab his hair.
An’ tell him take me on his lap
Or else I won’t leg go.
An’ ‘nen ma says “She’ll catch a cold!”
But pa, he says, “Shaw. No!”
He tells me “pigs to market.”
How little calves go “Moo”
An‘ rides me on his foot awhile—
An’ I fall off. I do
Sometimes I play I’m gone and hid
Behind the big armchair.
And daresn’t peak because my pa
Is turned into a bear!
But bear don’t ever scratch my face
Nor catch and eat me raw.
‘Cause when I’m scared and holler cut
Bear turns back into pa
An’ last night when the rain came
So hard it most came froo,
Pa said, ‘Ist hear it smack the roof,
But it can’t get to you!
An’ ‘nen me listened’ ist as still!
An’ ‘nen first think I know
It’s mornin, an’ I’ve been to sleep,
Like all good childrens go.
Marion Short
[Welland Telegraph November 1900]
Add A Comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.