CONFESSION

A sleuth like Pinkerton or Burns

Is told that there has been a crime.

He runs down clues and leads, and learns

Who did the deed, in course of time.

It's just the other way with me:

The first thing I am sure of is

The criminal's identity,

And then I learn what crime was his.

When Son comes up with hanging head

And smiles a certain kind of smile,

When he's affectionate instead

Of playful; when he stalls awhile

And starts to speak and stops again,

Or, squirming like a mouse that's caught,

Asserts, “I am a GOOD boy,” then

I look to see what harm's been wrought.