"Ho! mas-ter ba-by boy.
Where are you go-ing?
Dark are the win-try skies:
Soon 'twill be snow-ing.
Back to the nur-se-ry,
Where the fire's
glow-ing."
* * *
"I doe back"--
stamps his foot.
"No! I are doe-ing
Down to my busi-ness.
A big boy I'm drow-ing.
Just where my pa-pa does,
Dat's where I'm doe-ing."