Minnie, in her hand a sixpence,
Toddled off to buy some butter;
(Minnie's pinafore was spotless)
Back she brought it to the gutter,
Gleeful, radiant, as she thus did,
Proud to be so largely trusted.
One, two, three small steps she'd taken,
Blissfully came little Minnie,
When, poor darling! down she tumbled,
Daubed her hands and face and pinny!
Dropping too, the little slut, her
Pat of butter in the gutter.
Never creep back so despairing—
Dry those eyes, my little fairy:
All of us start off in high glee,
Many come back quite contrairy.
I've mourned sixpences in scores too,
Damaged hopes and pinafores too.