Jack and Jill by Clara Dottie Bates Little boys,
Sit still,
Girls too,
If you will,
And let me tell you of Jack and Jill.
For I think another,
Such sister and brother,
Were never the children of one mother.
For an idle lad,
As he was Jack had,
No traits after all that were very bad.
He was simply Jack,
With the coat on his back,
Patched up in all colors from gray to black.
Both feet were bare,
And I do declare that he never washed his face,
And his hair was the color of straw,
You never saw such a crop as long as the moral law.
When he went to school,
It was the rule,
Though it was hard to say he was really a fool,
To send him at once,
So thick was his sconce,
To the block that was kept for the greatest dunce.
And Jill,
No lass scarce ever has,
Made bigger tracks on the country grass.
For her only fun was to romp and run,
Bare-headed,
Bare-footed,
In wind and sun.
Wherever went Jack,
Close on his track,
With hair unbraided and down her back.
Loud voiced and shrill,
She followed until no one said Jack without saying Jill.
But to succeed in teaching to read,
Such a harem-scarum was work indeed,
And I'm forced to tell that her way to spell,
Her name was only with a single eye.
Yet they were content.
One day they were sent to the hill for water,
And they went.
They did not drown,
But Jack fell down with a pail in his hand and broke his crown.
And Jill,
Who must go and always do,
Exactly as Jack did,
Tumbled too.
Just think,
If you will,
How they rolled downhill,
Straw-headed Jack and bare-footed Jill.
But up Jack got,
And home did trot,
Nor cared whether Jill was hurt or not,
While his poor bruised knob did burn and throb,
Tear falling on tear,
Sob following sob.
He could run the faster,
So a paper plaster had bound up the sight of his disaster.
Before Jill came,
And the thoughtful dame,
For a break in her head had fixed the same.
But Jill came in with a saucy grin,
At seeing the plight poor Jack was in.
And when she saw that bundle of straw bound up with a cloth and his jaw,
Tied up in white,
The comical sight made her clap her hands and laugh outright.
The dame perplexed and dreadfully vexed,
Got a stick and said,
I'll whip her next.
How many blows fell,
I will not tell,
But she did it in earnest,
She did it well.
To the naughty back was blue and black,
And Jill needed a plaster as much as Jack.
The next time though,
Jack has to go to the hill for water.
I almost know that bothering Jill will go up the hill,
And if he falls again,
Why of course she will.
