Mamma has bought a calendar,
And every single page
Has pictures on of little girls
'Most just about my age.

And when she bought it yesterday,
Down at the big bazaar,
She said, 'What lovely little girls,
How true to life they are.'

But I don't think they're true to life,
And I'll just tell you why;
They never have a rumpled frock
Or ribbon bow awry.

And though they play with cats and dogs,
And rabbits and white mice,
And sail their boats and fly their kites,
They always look so nice.

And I am sure no little girl
That ever _I_ have seen,
Could play with dogs or sail a boat
And keep her frock so clean.