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The Quarrel

We stood in the vegetable garden
As angry and cross as could be
'Cause you said you wouldn't beg pardon
For eating my radish at tea.

I said, “I shall go an' tell Mummy.
I hope it is makin' you ill.
I hope you've a pain in your tummy,
And then she will give you a pill.”

But you cried out, “Good-bye then—for ever.
Go and play with your silly old toys!
If you think you're so grown up and clever,
I'll run off and play with the Boys.”