XIX Miss Sophia
Miss Sophy, one fine sunny day,
Left her work and ran away;
When soon she reach’d the garden gate,
Which finding barr’d, she would not wait,
But tried to climb and scramble o’er
A gate as high as any door!
But little girls should never climb,
And Sophy wont another time,
For, when upon the highest rail,
Her frock was caught upon a nail.
She lost her hold, and, sad to tell,
Was hurt and bruis’d—for down she fell!