She was not in the least like Jane!
She ran and laughed and romped about,
And raised a hubbub and a shout.
“Oh, fie!” said Jane, “Pray, cousin Ann,
Do be more tranquil if you can.”
But Ann just laughed, and did not care,
And tweaked her cousin by the hair.
When they were out she climbed a tree,
Which quite annoyed the “busy Bee.”
“Fie, fie!” she cried. Ann said “Here goes:”
And aimed an acorn at her nose!
So Jane replied, “My good Mama
Shall know how rude and rough you are.”
“Your good Mama!” said little Ann;
“Well, if you want to tell, you can.”
She went away—went whistling too,
Such a rude, boyish thing to do!
Aimed an acorn at her nose
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They went home shortly after, so
Jane told Mama her tale of woe.
“I do not tell this tale from choice,”
She said, in her most gentle voice;
“I thought you ought to know, you see,
How cousin Ann climbed up a tree;
And when I chid in gentle fashion,
She flew into a dreadful passion,
And—dear Mama, indeed, indeed,
I would much rather not proceed.”
But since her mother thought it best,
She dutifully told the rest.
—“She threw things at me, tore my hair,
And whistled as she left me there!”
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‘Indeed, indeed, I would much rather not proceed’
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At this Mama looked grim and stern,
And said that Ann had much to learn;
And that she really felt unable
To have such naughty girls at table.
So when the others supped that day
(Their stew smelt sav’ry by the way),
Ann had to stand upon a seat,
And did not get a thing to eat;
While Jane kept slyly peeping round,
And swallowed with a sucking sound.
And there poor Ann was forced to stay
When supper was all cleared away.
Jane’s good Papa began to read
A very solid book indeed;
Jane took her work, and sat near by,
And pricked Ann’s ankles on the sly.
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Pricked Ann’s ankles on the sly
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And there in fact Ann had to wait
Until the clock was striking eight,
When Jane’s Mama believed it time
To say that ladies never climb,
But that to fall into a pet,
And fight, is more disgraceful yet!
Her little loving, gentle Jane
Should not be treated so again.
She added more. At last she said
Ann might come down, and go to bed.
Jane gently whispered, “Dear, you would
Be happier if you were good.”
Ann mutter’d “Pig!”—but no one heard
Her use that most improper word.
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