A Diverted Tragedy
Gracie wuz allus a _careless_ tot;
But Gracie dearly loved her doll,
An’ played wiv it on the winder-sill
'Way up-stairs, when she ought to _not_,
An’ her muvver _telled_ her so an’ all;
But she won’t _mind_ what _she_ say—till,
First thing she know, her dolly fall
Clean spang out o’ the winder plumb
Into the street! An’ here Grace come
Down-stairs, two at a time, ist wild
An’ a-screamin’, ‘Oh, my child! my child!’
Jule wuz a-bringin’ their basket o’ clo’es
Ist then into their hall down there,—
An’ she ist stop’ when Gracie bawl,
An’ Jule she say 'She ist declare
She’s ist in time!' An’ what you s’pose?
She sets her basket down in the hall,
An’ wite on top o’ the snowy clo’es
Wuz Gracie’s dolly a-layin’ there
An’ ist ain’t bu’st ner hurt a-tall!
Nen Gracie smiled—ist _sobbed_ an’ smiled—
An’ cried, ‘My child! my precious child!’
