They don't know much, these little girls,
I'll tell you why 'tis so,
They played away their time at school,
And let their lessons go.
One took a slate to cipher,
And all went very well,
Until she came to four times eight,
And that she could not tell.
The other would make pictures
In her copy book at school,
Of boys and girls and donkeys
Which was against the rule.
But nothing good could come of it,
And this is what befell;
She tried to write to papa,
And found she could not spell.
The teacher said, "Of all sad things,
I would not be a dunce,
But would learn to write and cipher,
And begin the work at once."
[Illustration: {A BOY WITH A BOOK LOOKS OVER THE CITY.}]