The awfullest times that ever could be
They had with a bad little girl of Dundee,
Who never would finish her crust
In vain they besought her,
And patiently taught her
And told her she must.
Her grandma would coax,
And so would the folks,
And tell her the sinning
Of such a beginning.
But no, she wouldn't.
She couldn't, she shouldn't,
She'd have them to know--
So they might as well go.
And what do you think came to pass?
This little girl of Dundee, alas!
Who wouldn't take crusts the regular way,
Sat down to a feast one summer's day;
And what did the people that little girl give?
Why, a dish of bread pudding--as sure as I live!