They will not let you play with fire
Or trip your sister up with wire,
They grudge the tea-tray for a drum,
Or booby-traps when callers come.

They don't like fishing, and it's true
You sometimes soak a suit or two:
They look on fireworks, though they're dry,
With quite a disapproving eye.

They do not understand the way
To get the most out of your day:
They do not know how hunger feels
Nor what you need between your meals.

And when you're sent to bed at night,
They're happy, but they're not polite.
For through the door you hear them say:
'_He's_ done _his_ mischief for the day!'

She told us a lot of other pieces but I cannot remember them, and she
talked to us all the way up, and when we got nearly to Cannon Street she
said--

'I've got two new shillings here! Do you think they would help to
smooth the path to Fame?'

Noel said, 'Thank you,' and was going to take the shilling. But Oswald,
who always remembers what he is told, said--