UNTIDY ANGELINE FRIDAY
by
Lesley Gordon

  Angeline Friday
Would never be tidy,
She'd fling all her clothes on the floor ;
And on going to bed,
I once heard it said,
Her shoes would fly out at the door.

Though properly taught
To do all that she ought,
"Can't be bothered!" young ANGIE would say:
When rebuked by her nurse
She grew steadily worse
Till her mother was haggard and grey.

But one dreadful night,
By the moon's ashy light,
Her petticoat rose from the floor ;
And said with a stammer—
Regardless of grammar—
"I'm n-not going to stand it n-no more!"

"Allow us to speak,"
Cried her shoes with a creak,
"Though in truth we are almost afraid to—
If ANGELINE FRIDAY
Won't try to be tidy,
It's just about time she was made to!"
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