Poem by Eugene Field

The Naughty Doll

MY dolly is a dreadful care,--
    Her name is Miss Amandy; 
I dress her up and curl her hair,
    And feed her taffy candy. 
Yet heedless of the pleading voice
    Of her devoted mother, 
She will not wed her mother's choice,
    But says she'll wed another.

I'd have her wed the china vase,--
    There is no Dresden rarer; 
You might go searching every place
    And never find a fairer. 
He is a gentle, pinkish youth,--
    Of that there's no denying; 
Yet when I think of him forsooth,
    Amandy falls to crying!

She loves the drum--that's very plain--
    And scorns the case so clever; 
And weeping, vows she will remain
    A spinster doll forever! 
The protestations of the Drum
    I am convinced are hollow; 
When once distressing times should come,
    How soon would ruin follow!

Yet all in vain the Dresden boy
    From yonder mantel woos her; 
A mania for that vulgar toy,
    The noisy drum, imbues her! 
In vain I wheel her to and fro,
    And reason with her moldly,-- 
Her waxen tears in torrents flow,
    Her sawdust heart beats wildly.

I'm sure that when I'm big and tall,
    And wear long trailing dresses, 
I sha'n't encourage beaux at all
    Till mama acquiesces; 
Our choice will be a suitor then
    As pretty as this vase is,-- 
Oh, how we'll hate the noisy men
    With whiskers on their faces! 

1. Mary Smith
2. Mother and Sphinx
3. My Playmates
4. A Piteous Plaint
5. A Paraphrase

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