Well
little John was rough on cats
And
cruel to butter-flies
His mother swore she'd change his mind
His traits she did
despise.
He stomped a honey bee
one day
And then to prove her word
She cut off all his honey sweets
But Johnnie wasn't stirred.
A butter-fly came
floating past
He downed it with a
blow
His mother cut off butter then
For she was boss, you
know.
He bottled up some
lighting bugs
Then slep' in dark that night
And
mother made a b'liever then
When she cut off his light.
His daddy, shaving in
the bath,
With an admirer's
help
Said "Mother's right, you must behave
Or she will make you
yelp."
A cock-roach crept
along the wall
Dad
settled it to stay
As Johnnie said "You look out, Pop
Or mother'll make you
pay,
George
H. Prosser
July 1, 1941