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SOME days my Pa is thist so cross

’At Ma, she snaps him off an’ said:

“I guess your father must ’a’ got

Up on th’ wrong side of th’ bed.”

An’ ’en Pa says he’d like to eat

Thist bread, he would, in peace once more;

An’ Ma, she bu’sts out cryin’ nen

An’ Pa goes out an’ slams th’ door—

An’ ’en I git a spankin’!

Thist ’fore he gits his breakfast, Pa

He never hardly speaks to us,

An’ Ma, she says it shames her so

T’ have him go an’ make a fuss

Before th’ girl. Pa, he don’t care,

An’ ’en he says—“Th’ girl be——!”

An’ Ma says—“Oh, t’ think he’d swear

Before his child!” Th’ door gits slammed—

An’ ’en I git a spankin’!

An’ ’en, ’em days, th’ littlest things

I do ’ll almost drive her wild,

An’ she says “Goodness sakes alive!

Was ever such another child?”

An’ she says: “Do run out an’ play!”

An’ thist when I git started, nen

She hollers right at me this way:

“Willyum! You march right in again!”

An’ ’en I git a spankin’!

An’ Pa, he don’t come home to lunch

’Cuz Ma, she says he’s too ashamed

To face her after such a scene

An’ says she surely can’t be blamed

For Pa’s mean, ugly, hateful ways,

An’ Ma ain’t got no heart to eat,

Nen, thist ’cuz I want honey on

My bread, er jam, er sumpin sweet—

Why nen I git a spankin’!

An’ ’en, along ’bout supper time

Pa sneaks in thist th’ easiest

You ever see; an’ nen he looks

For Ma; an’ she’s th’ freeziest

’At ever was. An’ Pa, he’s got

Some candy an’ he says he’s ’shamed,

An’ fin’ly Ma says mebbe she

Was also partly to be blamed,

An’ ’en ’at ends my spankin’!