She never puts her toys away;
Just leaves them scattered where they lay-
I try to scold her, and I say
“You make me mad!”
But when to bed she has to chase,
The toys she left about the place
Remind me of her shining face,
And make me glad.
When she grows up and gathers poise
I’ll miss her harum-scarum noise,
And look in vain for scattered toys-
And I’ll be sad.
