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Whenever I come where the old folks is,
“Jes' look at your hands,” says Ma;
And Sis says “My!” though it's none of her biz,
“An' look at his neck,” says Pa.
“An' look at the mud on his stockings, too.
An' look at his dirty face,
It ain't a week since his shoes were new!”
Oh, it's awful tough when you know that you
Are the family's one disgrace.

“Jes' look how the seat of his pants is worn!
Did you ever see such hair?
An' that is his very best blouse that's torn,
An' his coat's got another tear.
He might be a rag picker's boy,” says Ma,
“The alley's about his place.”
“He ought to be spanked, that's what,” says Pa.
Oh, it's awful tough when you know that you are
The family's one disgrace.

“Now what's he got in his pockets, pray?
An' where does he get such things?
An' why does he bulge out his clothes that way
With marbles an' tops an' strings?
Don't you dare to sit down till you've been up stairs
An' scrubbed both your hands an' your face,
My goodness! Don't handle those portieres!”
Oh, nobody loves an' nobody cares
For the family's one disgrace.
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