Climbing where you shouldn't climb and tum-
bling down the stairs.
How'd you get the ink well? We can never
guess.
Now the rug is ruined; so's your little dress.

Little Master Mischievous, in the cookie jar,
Who has ever told you where the cookies are?
Now your sticky fingers smear the curtains
white;
You have finger-printed everything in sight.
There's no use in scolding; when you smile that
way
You can rob of terror every word we say.

Little Master Mischievous, that's the name for
you;
There's no better title that describes the things
you do:
Prying into corners, peering into nooks,
Tugging table covers, tearing costly books.
Little Master Mischievous, have your roguish
way;
Time, I know, will stop you, soon enough some
day.

OPPORTUNITY

So long as men shall be on earth
There will be tasks for them to do,