THE QUARREL
Westood in the vegetable gardenAs angry and cross as could be’Cause you said you wouldn’t beg pardonFor eating my radish at tea.I said, “I shall go an’ tell Mummy.I hope it is makin’ you ill.I hope you’ve a pain in your tummy,And then she will give you a pill.”But you cried out, “Good-bye then—for ever.Go and play with your silly old toys!If you think you’re so grown up and clever,I’ll run off and play with the Boys.”
Westood in the vegetable gardenAs angry and cross as could be’Cause you said you wouldn’t beg pardonFor eating my radish at tea.I said, “I shall go an’ tell Mummy.I hope it is makin’ you ill.I hope you’ve a pain in your tummy,And then she will give you a pill.”But you cried out, “Good-bye then—for ever.Go and play with your silly old toys!If you think you’re so grown up and clever,I’ll run off and play with the Boys.”
Westood in the vegetable gardenAs angry and cross as could be’Cause you said you wouldn’t beg pardonFor eating my radish at tea.
I said, “I shall go an’ tell Mummy.I hope it is makin’ you ill.I hope you’ve a pain in your tummy,And then she will give you a pill.”
But you cried out, “Good-bye then—for ever.Go and play with your silly old toys!If you think you’re so grown up and clever,I’ll run off and play with the Boys.”