Miss Sophy, one fine sunny day,
Left her work and ran away:
When soon she reach'd the garden gate,
Which finding lock'd, she would not wait,
But tried to climb and scramble o'er
A gate as high as any door.
Now little girls should never climb,
And Sophy won't another time,
For when upon the highest rail
Her frock was caught upon a nail,
She lost her hold, and, sad to tell,
Was hurt and bruis'd--for down she fell.
[Illustration]