Ballads for little folk . the killing theyve done or seenWas killing themselves — that is, I mean In the public estimation. When Tom to his pretty wife was wed, She s fuss and feathers, people said, That any woman could borrow ;And sure enough, her feathers fell,Though the fuss was the genuine article, As Tom has found to his sorrow. When Mrs. Butterfly, who was a grub,First got her wings, she was such a snob, She scorned the folks around her,And made, as she said, the feathers fly ;But when she fell, she had gone so high, She was smashed as flat as a flounder. Alas, alas ! my little Jo,Im sor
Ballads for little folk . the killing theyve done or seenWas killing themselves — that is, I mean In the public estimation. When Tom to his pretty wife was wed, She s fuss and feathers, people said, That any woman could borrow ;And sure enough, her feathers fell,Though the fuss was the genuine article, As Tom has found to his sorrow. When Mrs. Butterfly, who was a grub,First got her wings, she was such a snob, She scorned the folks around her,And made, as she said, the feathers fly ;But when she fell, she had gone so high, She was smashed as flat as a flounder. Alas, alas ! my little Jo,Im sorry to tell it, and sorry its so ;But as to deceiving, I scorn to. 142 Feathers. And I only hope that when you are grownYou will keep the wonderful wisdom youve shown,Nor lose the wit you were born to. But whether folks, so wise when theyre small,Can ever live to grow up at all, Is one of the doubtful sure it happens but seldom, though,Or there wouldnt be so many, you know, Who cant tell birds from %»•
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectchildre, bookyear1874
