The Cut Finger
By Ellis Parker Butler
The Gossoon (Weeping)
Its bleedin! Its bleedin!
The Ould Woman (Soothingly)
An shure, me lad, t is bleedin;
But come, me hearty laddy buck, be brave an do not cry;
A lad thats learnin readin shu'd be far beyant the heedin
Av a tiny bit o finger cut that hurrts a bit foreby.
Ere ye come till wan an twinty
Yell be havin hurrts in plinty
An yell learn a bit o bleedin doesnt mean yere goin t die.
The Gossoon (Crying)
Its bleedin! Its bleedin!
The Ould Woman (Comfortingly)
An shure, me lad, t is bleedin;
But hes me slashin buckeen, an he will not weep at all;
A rag is all t is needin fer t sthop the whole proceedin,
An, shure, a bit o rosy blood wont make me gossoon bawl;
Fer t is but wan way av knowin
Ye have good red blood a-flowin
An a-workin all inside av ye t make ye strong an tall.
The Gossoon (Sobbing)
Its bleedin! Its bleedin!
The Ould Woman (Lovingly)
Aye, aye, me lad, t is bleedin,
An some foine day yer hearrt will bleed as bleeds the hearrt av me.
The saints ye will be pleadin, but t is little theyll be heedin,
Fer the worrld is full av bleedin hearrts on either side the sea.
An Id die t aise the achin
Whin ye feel yer hearrt a-brealdn,
But, ah! the poor ould woman wont be there t comfort ye.