Jam by Amy Ella Blanchard

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Let me tell you of Johnnie, / What do you think he did? / Went in his mama's pantry / While she was there, and hid.

Mama went out and left him, / Didn't know he was there, / Left on the shelf the jam pot, / Left by the shelf a chair.

When ev'ry thing was quiet, / Johnnie crept softly out, / Peeped in the bags and barrels, / Stood there and looked about.

Soon though, he spied the jam pot, / Here was a jolly treat, / In went the naughty fingers, / Johnnie began to eat.

Hands and face were all covered, / Dress was a perfect sight, / When Johnnie came from the pantry / You'd have thought it was pink, not white.

"It was so good," said Johnnie, / Fingers are nice to lick, / If you had seen him that evening, / I think you'd have called him sick.

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