Is sho a God gib natchel prize,
Mah 'ittle Touzle Head.

An' doze wee ban's so sof an' sweet,
Mates wid dem toddlin', velvet feet,
Jes to roun' you out, complete,
Mah 'ittle Touzle Head.

Sma't! youse sma't ez sma't kin be,
Knows yore evah A, B, C,
Plum on down to X, Y, Z,
Mah 'ittle Touzle Head.

De man doan know how much he miss,
Ef he ain't got no niece lak dis;
Fro yore Unkel one mo' kiss,
Mah 'ittle Touzle Head!

I wist sum magic w'u'd ellow,
(By charm or craf'--doan mattah how)
You stay jes lak you is right now,
Mah 'ittle Touzle Head.


ZALKA PEETRUZA

(_Who Was Christened Lucy Jane_)

She danced, near nude, to tom-tom beat,
With swaying arms and flying feet,