PADDY.

New Zealand Tablet, 27 February 1919, Page 34

PADDY.

(For the N.Z. Tablet.) His revelry begins at peep of day He clambers from his cot into my bed, And pulls my hair until it racks my head, And gleefully he drives all sleep away— And pounds me with his chubby fist Until he’s “cuddled in” and kissed— And then he wants to play! When I come home he meets me at the gate And reaches out a tiny, grimy hand To shakeand says, “Good boy!” I understand. And then he runs away and sure as fate I’ll stumble in a new-made hole— Or find the yard bestrewn with coal Or pieces of a plate! I never guess what mischief he’ll do next; He’s such a bundle of annoying tricks! And, oh! the things he breaks! the flowers he picks! And what to do with him I’m quite perplexed. And then I think of what I did When I was just a “toddle kid,’’ And how can I be vexed ? I steal in when he’s tucked away at night And gaze upon his baby innocence And in my heart all cares have recompense; For these are my still moments of delight, And if I’ve scolded I repent, And thank the good Lord He has sent A winsome little sprite. —“Cylas.” Christchurch.