Little Dora.
By James McIntyre
I tell you what my little Dora,
You do cause my heart to sorrow,
Tell me now you little misses
What you do with all your kisses.
I see you get them by the dozen
From each aunt and little cousin,
Said she I do intend dear pa
To give them all to you and ma.
And not a single one I'll miss,
But I will give you back each kiss,
And both of you will feel you're blest
When I pay you interest.
You'll better in my bank invest
And put my principle to test,
And you can dividend partake,
For my bank will never break.