Another story, Mother dear,
Did young Maria say;
You read so nice, so loud and clear,--
Another story, pray.
I love that book, I do indeed,
So take it up again;
I think I _see_ the things you read,
You make it all so plain.
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What would I give to read like you,
Why nothing comes amiss!
O, any thing I'll gladly do,
If you will teach me this.
Maria, then, must learn to spell,
If she would read like me;
She soon may learn to read as well;
O, that I will, said she.
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