Harry.--Oh! I’m tired with this running about, and this…

Harry.—Oh! I’m tired with this running about, and this riding, and this walking; I wish there was no such thing as running or walking at all; And I wish every horse were in the fields, or else tied up in its stall! What’s your work, Kitty? sitting still in the house at ease; You’ve nothing to do but to sit down, and get up again, just as you please; And yet you talk of your work, as if ’twas the hardest that e’er was done, Why compare it with mine, child, and I’m sure it’s nothing but fun!

KITTY.—Child! I’m no more child than you; I’m but younger by a year, I desire you to speak respectfully to me, now, sir,—do you hear?

HARRY.—Yes, yes, I hear! But I really am so tired, as I was just now saying; I wish you’d get your work done, and let’s begin playing! You can’t believe, I’m sure, all the work I’ve done this day— I’ve weeded two carrot beds, and the onions—and carried all the weeds away; And I’ve been down to Thomas Jackson’s to tell him to get the horse shod; And in coming back there was a great, big, rusty nail, upon which I trod, And it lamed me so, I don’t believe I shall walk for a week, At least as I ought to do, for my ancle has quite a creak!

KITTY.—Oh dear, let me look at it! Why, I’m sure it is quite shocking— See, there’s a hole as large as my thimble in the ancle of your stocking!

HARRY.—Oh no, ’tis the other foot—that I tore with a bramble; And that reminds me, Jack Smith and I had such a terrible scramble! We were catching the pony that I might ride down to the mill, To bid him bring the flour home, for I declare he has it still; And we shan’t have a bit of white bread in the house, nor a pudding, nor a pie, If he don’t bring it home—every one says he’s shamefully idle, and so do I. Well, but I haven’t told you after all, what a deal of work I’ve done; And I’m sure if you knew what weeding was, you would not call it fun; It makes one’s back ache so, stooping to weed all day, I shall be famously glad when it’s done!

KITTY.—But are you quite ready for play? I’ve but a little bit to do—I shall have done in half a quarter of an hour; And as you’ve nothing to do, just run and see if that lavender’s in flower— There’s a good Harry, do; I’ll do seven times as much for you; You know I sewed, yesterday, that old clasp in your shoe.