Читать книгу The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII. - Various - Страница 2

Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise;

Cannot play with quiet boys;

Cannot play with quiet toys:

Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise!

In the street he takes delight,—

In the street from morn till night:

Don't I tell the story right,

Rowdy-dowdy, noisy sprite?

Rowdy-dowdy's full of fun;

Never walks if he can run;

Never likes the setting sun:

That stops Rowdy-dowdy's fun.

He is full of prankish ways;

Never still one moment stays;

Boys are fond of boyish plays:

These are Dowdy's rowdy days.

Out at elbows, out at toes,

Out at knees, the urchin goes:

Still he laughs, and still he grows

Rowdier, dowdier, I suppose.

Rowdy-dowdy, don't you see,

Full of noisy, boys-y glee,

Is as sweet as he can be,

For the sprite belongs to me!

He is mine to have and hold,

Worth his weight in solid gold:

Ah! I've not the heart to scold

Rowdy-dowdy, brave and bold!