The juvenile Jenkins was jumping with joy,
As he sported him over the sandy lea;
In his small fat hand there was many a toy
And many a cake in his mouth had he.
But the juvenile Jenkins he heard a voice
Which made him with horror thrill through and through,
“Come into the house, don’t make any noise,
For I have got a parcel for you!”
The juvenile Jenkins he entered the door,
And, lo, on the table the parcel lay,
He wiped his feet on the mat on the floor,
While his mother reluctantly did say,
“Perhaps it may be a sock or a mitten:”
He covered her face with his kisses soft,
As he read the directions upon it written,
“The juvenile Jenkins.”
Moral: “A present from Croft.”