But Papa said if I was good I could ask you — alone by myself —
If you would n't write me a book like that little one up on the shelf.
I do n't mean the pictures, of course, for to make THEM you've got to be smart
But the reading that runs all around them, you know,— just the easiest part.
You need n't mind what it's about, for no one will see it but me,
And Jane,— that's my nurse,— and John,— he's the coachman,— just only us three.
You're to write of a bad little girl, that was wicked and bold and all that;
And then you're to write, if you please, something good — very good — of a cat!