That noon a dozen little dears
Were spanked and put to bed
With naught to stay their appetites
But cheerless crusts of bread.
That noon a dozen hired girls
Washed out each gown and shirt
Which that exuberant Taylor pup
Had frescoed o'er with dirt.
That whole day long the April sun
Smiled sweetly from above
On clothes lines flaunting to the breeze
With emblems mothers love.
That whole day long the Taylor pup
This way and that did hie
Upon his mad, erratic course
Intent on getting dry.
That night when Mr. Taylor came
His vesper meal to eat,
He uttered things my pious pen
Would liefer not repeat.
Yet still that noble Taylor pup
Survives to romp and bark
And stumble over folks and things
In fair Buena Park.
Good sooth, I wot he should be called
Buena's favorite son
Who's sired of such a noble sire
And damned by every one.