Who tucked me up in bed at night, And cried as she blew out the light: “Now go to sleep, you little fright?”―― My Mother! Who patted me upon the head, And in the gruffest accents said: “Get out, you oaf, and earn your bread?”―― My Father. Who dropped on me a scalding tear, Exclaiming, as she boxed my ear: “The gallows is your doom, I fear?”―― My Sister. Who gently asked me what I’d got, And cried, while pocketing the lot: “Be off, or else you’ll get it hot?”―― My Brother. Who with my locks would gently play, And wrote me when she ran away: “With such a fool I cannot stay?”―― My Wife. Who stuck to me through thick and thin, Then drew a bill and let me in, Exclaiming: “What an ass you’ve been?”―― My Friend. Who filled with tears my sorrow’s cup, By crying, as she went to sup: “Here, p’leesman, lock this blackguard up?”―― My Aunt. Who rescued me from out the dirt, And said, in accents harsh and curt, “No more nor sixpence on this shirt?”―― My Uncle. _Judy_, November 26, 1879. ――――:o:―――― MY RELATIONS. Who taught my baby-lips to coo, And trained them first to utter “Boo!” And spanked me pretty soundly, too?―― My Mother. Who rapped me smartly on the head Because I said his nose was red, And sent me howling off to bed?―― My Father. Who called me “Clever little lad, The very picture of my dad.” And gave me _sixpence_――_which was bad?_―― My Grandfather. Who, when I asked her if her hair Was all her own, said, “Little bear!” And fixed me with a stony stare?―― My Aunt. Who is, alas! the _only_ friend On whom I can at all depend, And will remain so to the end?―― My Uncle. _Funny Folks_, November 29, 1879. ――――:o:―――― NURSY PURSY. [This poem, written by a child aged only five years and three months, is printed more as a literary curiosity than for any other reason. A kind of tender pathos may be observable here and there, which in a child so young is, at least, surprising.] Who wore a hideous high-crown’d cap, Who called me tootsy-wootsy chap, Yet used my little head to slap? Dear Nursy-pursy. Who said she’d watch, then meanly slept, And pinch’d me spiteful when I wept. And for my pap her stale crusts kept? Dear Nursy-pursy. Who gazed into my heavy eye, And said, “A powder we must try; This horrid child, he lives too high?” Dear Nursy-pursy.