'Long Comes 'Liza With the Broom
JUST as soon's I get to playin'
Noah's ark or train of cars
Out there in a nice warm kitchen,
Trouble's in for me—my stars!
'Long comes 'Liza with the broom:
“Look out, now, I've lots to do;
Clear your duds out of my way—
Can't be bothered here by you!” Then I think I'll try the stoop,
So I move as meek's a lamb;
Get to playin' nice as ever—
Out comes 'Liza's broom, ker-slam:
“Come, now, boy; you're in my way!”
Out she flies. “I've got to sweep!”
My Noah's ark, my cars, and me
All go tumbling in a heap. “Want to sweep me off the earth!”
That's how I talk back to her;
But it's not a mite of good.
'Liza comes with such a whir,
Sweepin' dust right in my face,
That I have to cut and run,
Glad to hurry from a place
Where there's not a bit of fun! When I have a little boy,
He shall play just where he likes,
Litterin' up the kitchen floor
All he wants to, makin' kites,
Pastin' scrapbooks, playin' cars—
Jolliest boy in all the town,
There won't be no 'Liza then
Ordering my boy aroun'!
— St. Nicholas.