From page 8 of large scrapbook.

The wayderd Boy

Written by Sir Horace St. Paul


I am a welly wayderd boy

My mother told me so.

If God should make me die tonight

Wherever should I go?


I wish I was a gooder boy,

How happy I should be.

But when I’m going to be good,

Then someone ?hazes/teazes me.


And teazing people I do hate.

And Ma’ too when she’s cross.

Why can’t I always have my way

And ride upon an – oss?-


Some day I shall be grown up

And then I’ll have my way,

No Pa to head, no ma to scold,

- But playing all the day.


Gov’ness says that wayderd boys

Will go down into hell.

But Gov’ness wants to frighten me,

I know it welly well.


She used to try and frighten me.

With-“Bogie fetch bad boy”

No-Bogie up the chimney but,

The little sweeping boy.-


So I don’t care for anything

That anybody says-

I’ll serve ‘em out when I grow big

For their bad practices.


But I’ll pretend that I am good

Say-‘yes’ to everything-

Just wait till I’m a grown up man

-I’ll let them know a thing.-


Good luck to all the wayderd boys

Ah-they’re the boys for me

And when we all go back to school

A ?nuching there’ll be.


Oh-would we smash the window panes.

And shy the books about-

And if we get the gov’ner down

Eye wo'ud we serve him out?



His dear good natured daughter

Shall be mistress in his stead.

We’ll do everything she wishes us

When Old Curmudgeon’s dead.


Then we’ll be such good boys

And serve our little queen

We’ll learn the lessons that she sets-

-we’ll crown her on the green.


Oh-I do love that little girl

She smiles at me so sweet.

And cuts the pudding in such lumps

And helps me twice to meat.


She never calls me wayderd boy

And when I’m in a bother.

She tells the gov: such shining lies

And lays it on another.


And when you know ?its such fun

Gov: flogs another’s bottom

For stealing apples from the tree

And all the while I’ve got’em


Last breaking up there was no ?jams

The cupboard key was missin’

Me kept the key for my own use

For jellies-jams and kissin’


So let them call me wayderd boy

I don’t believe in ‘sin’,

My cupboard key I do enjoy

And those may laugh who win.

Sir Horace St Paul poem.