O Education! Maybe thou art all
Our teachers tell us, but just let me say
That if my folks wouldst let me have my way,
From early Spring till frost comes in the Fall
I'dst be outdoors, you bet! a-playin’ ball
Or otherwise enjoyin’ each fine day.
It seem'st a shame for boys to have to stay
Like culprits shut in by a prison wall!
I guess if you get rich folks wilt not care
If you don'tst know your grammar to a T,
For baby boys, you'llst find‘ most everywhere,
Art named for uncles who hast money, see?
Though they hain'tst got no learnin’ they canst spare
Nor never spell their‘ taters with a p.