A little man, in brand-new suit
Of clothes from out the store;
Nor speck of dirt nor stain of fruit
His natty garments bore.
His jacket and his trousers were
His first, and spick and span;
And pride soon exercised its spur
Upon this little man.
And felt he prouder than a King
In his complete array;
To see him round the parlor swing
Was better than a play.
Deep in his trousers pockets thrust,
Make sure, were both his hands,
And richer he with cents in trust
Than owner large of lands.
"Papa," he cried, as stopped he short
Beside his father's knee--
"Papa, me loves oo tos oo bought
'Ese nice new tose for me;
And, mammy, me be 'eal dood boy,
An' teep 'ese tose so tean;
Me do an' buy me pooty toy,
To p'ay in house, I mean.
"Me on'y 'tay a 'ittle w'ile,
An' tum 'ight in aden,
An' den till dinner me will p'ay
'Ith Donnie Hay an' Ben.
Me teep my tose so tean, papa,
Me dit on dem no dirt;
Me do away f'om house not far,
An' 'on't fell down dit hurt."
An hour passed on; the little man
Returned with face all blood;
Without a cap in-doors he ran,
His clothes befouled with mud.
Between his sobs, for breath hard pressed,
A tale of strife he told;
"'At Donnie Hay 'tepped on my foot,
An' den we bof taut hold,
"An' felled all down an' 'olled all 'ound;
He bite my fingis sore;
Me sc'atch his face, my nose he pound,
An' b'an'-new tows is tore;
Me hit 'im bat, an' pulled he hair
So hard I ever tan.
Me lick him, pa, an' made him kye,
_An' I's a 'ittle man_!"
[Illustration: FUN ON THE ICE--"SNAPPING THE WHIP."]