Her Aunt, on hearing all, looked grave,

And said, “Is this how you behave?

You disobeyed me, and you fought!

—Go, Jane, and fetch the rod I bought.”

Jane joyfully laid down her book,

And ran off with a merry look;

While Ann stood looking pale and queer,

And wishing that “Papa were here.”

“Miss, to your room!” Mama said; so

Away poor Ann was forced to go.

Jane fetched the rod, and said, “Oh, why

Will my poor cousin be so sly?

I cannot bear,” the child confessed,

“To see my dear Mama distressed.”

Mama then took the rod, and went,

Leaving her daughter well content:

Jane’s gentle smile grew quite sublime,

For her Mama was gone some time.

When twenty minutes had expired

She came in looking hot and tired;

And very shortly after, she

Went out to drink a dish of tea

With several friends she long had known,

Leaving her little girl alone.

Jane found it rather dull to read;

She soon felt very dull indeed.

How interesting Ann’s tales had been

About that circus she had seen.

Jane wished Mama had let them go

And see this cattle fair and show.

She almost thought it would be fun

To go alone, as Ann had done.

“’Twill be her fault, if I do go;

She made me want to see the show.

Mama will not suspect the plan

Because I told her about Ann,”

She said, as she decided on it,

And went to fetch her beaver bonnet.

Betsy the maid was busy, so

Nobody saw Miss Janie go.

Prim and particular and neat

She minced along the village street,

And safely reached the village green

Unnoticed, and in fact unseen.

Once there, Miss Jane, I grieve to say,

Behaved in quite a naughty way!

—She even rode a wooden horse,

Though with propriety, of course;

She bought some sweetmeats at a stall

And then sat down and ate them all;

She saw the clowns and acrobats,

And the performing dogs and cats.

She thought them very clever, yet

The pig-faced lady was her pet!