Franklin Pierce Adams

Those Two Boys

WHEN Bill was a lad he was terribly bad.
   He worried his parents a lot;
He’d lie and he’d swear and pull little girls’ hair;
   His boyhood was naught but a blot.
 
At play and in school he would fracture each rule—
   In mischief from autumn to spring;
And the villagers knew when to manhood he grew
   He would never amount to a thing.
 
When Jim was a child he was not very wild;
   He was known as a good little boy;
He was honest and bright and the teacher’s delight—
   To his mother and father a joy.
 
All the neighbors were sure that his virtue’d endure,
   That his life would be free of a spot;
They were certain that Jim had a great head on him
   And that Jim would amount to a lot.
 
And Jim grew to manhood and honor and fame
   And bears a good name;
While Bill is shut up in a dark prison cell—
   You never can tell.
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