“AUNT‘ MANDY”

Our Aunt‘ Mandy thinks that boys

Never ought ter make a noise,

Or go swimming or play ball,

Or have any fun at all;

Thinks a boy had ought ter be

Dressed up all the time, and she

Hollers jest as if she's hurt

At the littlest mite er dirt

On a feller's hands or face,

Or his clothes, or any place.

Then at dinner-time she's there,

Sayin’, “Must n't kick the chair!”

Or “Why do n't yer sit up straight?”

“‘ Tai n't perlite to drum yer plate.”

An’ yer got ter eat as slow,

‘ Cause she's dingin’ at yer so.

Then, when Chris'mus comes, she brings

Nothin’, only useful things:

Han'kershi' fs an’ gloves an’ ties,

Sunday stuff yer jest despise.

She's a ole maid, all alone,

‘ Thout no children of her own,

An’ I s'pose that makes her fuss

‘ Round our house a-bossin’ us.

If she‘ d had a boy, I bet,

‘ Tween her bossin’ and her fret

She'd a-killed him, jest about;

So God made her do without,

For he knew no boy could stay

With Aunt‘ Mandy every day.