Classic Poem

— — There was a little girl
— — Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead,
— — And when she was good,
— — She was very, very good,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

— — She stood on her head
— — On her little trundle-bed,
With nobody by for to hinder;
— — She screamed and she squalled,
— — She yelled and she bawled,
And drummed her little heels against the winder.

— — Her mother heard the noise,
— — And thought it was the boys,
Playing in the empty attic;
— — She rushed upstairs,
— — And caught her unawares,
And spanked her most emphatic.