The funniest thing about him
is the way he likes to grow--
Not at all like proper children,
which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller
like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that
ther's none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion
of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me
in every sort of way,
He stays so close beside me,
he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie
as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning very early,
before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew
on every buttercup;
But me lazy little shadow,
like an arrant sleepyhead
Had stayed at home behind me
and was fast asleep in bed.
