They told me porridge would make mo big, The very best runner at ball and But I didn't like its looks or its taste, And when Jane each morning said, "Make taste, Come, sup you porridge, wilful Will, T never pay very much heed So Vd ix in the milk and give it a stir Than [always left half of it there in the bowl; But now, quick as can be, I cat up the' whole, For right in the middle for my now plate know a picture is sure to wait; Some goblin and a giant who Will at the end come showing through My porridge, or a priyce Till sea, That fairy eno, who'll marry me
bir When Tam quite grown up and And best at skipping-ropes and tig, in "Glasgow Herald"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.