But the marriage was not happy and she soon left
her new husband and went to live with her own mother at Edmonton.
So for five years John's life was spent between school and his
grandmother's house. They were a happy family. The brothers
loved each other though they jangled and fought, and they loved
their mother and little sister too.
So the years went on, and John showed not the lightest sign of
being a poet. Some doggerel rimes he wrote to his sister show
the boy he was, not very unlike other boys.
"There was a naughty boy,
And a naughty boy was he:
He kept little fishes
In washing-tubs three,
In spite
Of the might
Of the maid,
Nor afraid
Of his granny good.
He often would
Hurly-burly
Get up early
And go
By hook or crook
To the brook,
And bring home
Miller's Thumb,
Tittlebat
Not over fat,
Minnows small
As the stall
Of a glove,
Not above
The size
Of a nice
Little baby's
Little fingers.
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