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.