The Child Who Would Not Be Washed

"Don't wash me, pray, mamma, today," I once heard little Jennie say, "For oh! so very hard you rub, I never want to see my tub." "O, very well," her mother said; "I'll put you back again to bed; And you must in your night-gown stay, Nor come down stairs at all to-day." And then I heard Miss Jennie cry, And beg mamma to let her try; And say, as she had done before, That she'd so naughty be no more. Her mother turned and left her there; She heard her step upon the stair; But in her chamber, all day long, She staid alone, for doing wrong. She heard her sister jump and run, And longed to join her in her fun; Her brother made a snow-man high; But she upon her bed must lie. She heard the merry sleigh-bells ring, And to the door come clattering; But Jennie could not go to ride In night-clothes by her father's side. And glad was she, as you may guess, The next day to put on her dress; She ran and told her mother then She never would do so again.