The Elf-Child.
By James Whitcomb Riley.
Little orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board an' keep;
An' all us other children, when the supper things is done,
We sets around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
Onct they was a little boy wouldn't say his pray'rs —
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His mamma heerd him holler, an' his daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down he wasn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' everywheres, I guess
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout!
An' the gobble-uns' ll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
An' one time a little girl 'ud alius laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one an' all her blood-an-kin,
