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Show OBGOKffi WILEVU D.NESDIT ! - ii t ' I I SI The Skinner boy was bad he took His badness from the Skinner side And he could lie to you, and look At you all straight and honest-eyed. He teased the little boys, he made A racket everywhere he went; And everybody said that they'd Be hanged if he was worth a cent! A freckled boy, with rusty hair, His mouth was but a toothless gap. And if he liked how he could swear! (His people never cared a rap.) He knew each watermelon patch And midnight raids to him were joy; He simply oozed with the Old Scratch, And looked a scamp the Skinner boy. So everyone was down on him, And naturally he became The village pest and Satan's limb On whom was shifted every blame. And none of us would give him work, Because he wasn't any good; "We knew that if he were a clerk 1 He'd crack the cash box If he could. Last week the little Minor girl Went toddling on the railroad track The limited came with a whirl. And each one of us turned his back-That back-That is, except the Skinner lad. 1 He ran and threw her to one side And gave up all the life he had. We stood in silence when he died. The Skinner boy was bad, no doubt; He never even earned his salt, But some of us have now found out r That most of it was all our fault. Ah, wh'en he lay so white and slim The Skinner boy we had despised Mnst of us whispered over him To tell him we apologized. |