'Tis very, very late; poor mamma and Cousin Kate,
Papa and Aunty Jane, all know it to their sorrow.
Struggling with the mystery of Latin, Greek, and history,
They're learning Johnny's lessons for the morrow.
His relatives are bright; still, it takes them half the night
With only four of them—ofttimes a friend they borrow—
To grapple with hard sums, and to fill young John with crumbs
Of wisdom 'gainst the coming of the morrow.
They bitterly complain; still, with only one small brain,
The boy needs all his kin can give him, for oh!
These lessons, if they slight 'em, how can poor John recite 'em
To a dozen wiser teachers on the morrow.