Part 2 (2/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOBBY AND ROVER.]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Oh dear! was there ever anybody so unlucky as I am, From General ----, who lost that battle t'other day, all the way back to Priam!

Come, sit down--do, and let me tell you all about it, and what's the matter; Perhaps it will do me good to have a nice, comfortable, miserable chatter.

To begin, then. This morning I woke, and thought I was up with the sun.

So never hurried myself; but dressed slow, and came down, to find breakfast all done, And nothing left for me but one cold slapjack, and all the chicken gone, Unless, to be sure, I could have eaten the drumsticks, and one perfectly clean breast bone!

And, of course, I had to make haste, for it was nine o'clock and after, And the master had offered a prize to the earliest boy--and here was I beaten by even lazy Tommy Shafter!

But it was no use to fret, so I s.n.a.t.c.hed up my satchel, and would have been off in a minute, When lo and behold! my geography was gone; and though we hunted the house, it was plain it wasn't in it, Till at last I remembered that yesterday I had gone after school to the dog pound, And then been fis.h.i.+ng with Fred Lee; so, probably, it was at the bottom of the frog pond!

Well, off to school I went, and came in after every schoolmate; So, to pay me off, the schoolmaster and all the boys called me Bobby Toolate!

But that wasn't all; for the cla.s.s was just up for spelling, And I didn't know the lesson, and Tommy Shafter prompted me to spell boots _butes_; and that's all I got for telling, Besides going to the foot of the cla.s.s, and having to get the lesson over; I tell you what! a hand-organ monkey's life, compared to a schoolboy's, is perfect rolling in clover!

And I wish I was a monkey, if I did get beaten--yes, that I do-- In a red coat all over spangles, and blue trowsers, and a long tail behind to come through!

Well, thank goodness, it's over; but that's not the half of my pother; For the very minute I got out of school, Tommy Shafter began to plague and bother, And wanted me to ride on the gate with him that goes in to his grandfather Chowser's; So I did; but there's spikes on the top of that gate; and, confound it, I went to work and tore my trowsers!

Just then along came Miss Kitty Snow, and didn't I look das.h.i.+ng, And that hateful Tommy Shafter bawled out ”How are you, trowsers?”

and jumped down and walked off with her; but just see if I don't give him a thras.h.i.+ng!

To pay him off for what he did and more too; for, when I came home weeping and wailing, Pa boxed my ears, and said I was such a bad boy I shouldn't go with him now out sailing; So I had the pleasure of seeing the rockaway drive up to the door, And pa and ma getting in, and sister Tilly, and brother Sam, and ever so many more, All looking so happy and gay, and not caring a bit for poor Bobby, Just as if I _wanted_ to get into sc.r.a.pes, and mischief and bad conduct were quite my hobby!

Then off they whirled; and as I was left alone, I thought I might as well be up and doing.

Oh, good gracious, why didn't I sit still? but how could I tell what was brewing?

So I went to the stable to see our big dog Rover, and thought I would take him out with me; When, just as I had slipped his chain, he broke loose, and ran, I don't know where! and, I'm sure, pa will never forgive me!

For he thought so much of Rover. Oh, dear me, what shall I do?

If it would be any use in the world, I really think I should begin to boohoo!

The stable boy told me not to take him; but I should like to see myself minding him _rather_; And of course, out of revenge, he'll just go and make the worst of it to father.

Well, one would think that was enough; but when I came back to the house, oh jolly!

There was our big cat just making a spring at sister Tilda's pretty polly!

And in my haste to save the bird I threw the poker at the cat and killed her!

And got myself in for a scolding from ma, and no great thanks from Tilda.

It's six o'clock now; so, I suppose, they'll soon be home as cross as any Tartar, To give it to me for being such a bad boy, though I'm sure I'm a regular martyr; Don't you think so now, after all that I've just been telling?

No breakfast, no geography, late at school, tore my trowsers, kept at home, lost the dog, killed the cat, and didn't know my spelling!

I think the best thing I can do is to go to bed, put my head under the clothes, And in a good, comfortable sleep try to forget all my sorrows and my woes; But you may be sure, after this, I shall not neglect to take warning, And begin to-morrow all right, without any sort of fail, by getting up early in the morning!

”There!” said I, when I had finished, and it quite wore my tongue thin to repeat such a long piece of poetry. ”What do you think of _that_ for a story?”

”I think it is real funny,” said Nelly, laughing; ”I wish I knew something to tell.”

”I can say a funny piece!” shouted Jimmy.

<script>