I'm sure I did not break this cup;
It just fell down,—I know it did—
For I was only climbing up,
Why do they keep the cake-box hid?—
I wanted such a little bit!
And then I heard that creaking door,
I can't tell what it was I hit,
Nor how that cup got on the floor.
The shelf it stood on was too high,
That cup my mother loved the most!
Oh dear! I never told a lie,
And mother whispered, "Do not boast,"
The day I said I never could.
(But there's that broken cup!)—and then
I promised that I never would—
So—I'll not tell a lie—again.