When little sister Jane arriv'd,
Harry was two years old;
His dimpled cheeks and lively air
A cheerful temper told.
Well pleas'd, he sat by nurse's side,
As she the babe would dress.
And, though he kiss'd or patted her,
Too hard he did not press.
He learn'd to wait upon himself,
His pinafore to loose,
Now on he'd nicely put his socks,
And clasp his little shoes.
He nimbly went up stairs or down,
At nurse or mother's call;
But then, he took fast hold the while,
Lest he should get a fall.