There was a little girl
And she wore a little curl
Right down the middle of her forehead
When she was good
She was very, very, good
But when she was bad, she was horrid

One day, she went upstairs
While her parents, unawares
In the kitchen down below
Were occupied with meals
And she stood upon her head
On her little trundle-bed
And then began hooraying with her heels

Her mother heard the noise
And thought it was her boys
A-playing at a combat in the attic
But when she climbed the stair
And saw Jemima there
She took and she did scold her most emphatic