THE SMALL BOY EXPLAINS

Some people say the sky is blue

Acause it's warshed by rains up there;

I dunno if‘ at's so, do you?

And I do n't care — and I do n't care!

I ai n't no sky, an’ I do n't like

To have my face warshed, anyhow;

My nurse says I'm a “naughty tike

To run away” or raise a row.

But ef she daubed mud on like this

A-purpose, so's the boys would play

With her — and not call her a “sis,”

She'd hate to warsh it all away!

That's why the blue sky'll never mean

A in-spi-ra-tion er a “joy”;

A-course it can be nice an’ clean —

It wo n't be called a “sissy-boy.”