The best way to be happy.

I think I should like to be happy to-day,

If I could but tell which was the easiest way:

But then, I don’t know any pretty new play:

And as to the old ones—why, which is the best?

There’s fine hot boil’d beans, whoop and hide, and the rest;

Or make-believe tea-time, with all my dolls drest.

But no—let me see, now I’ve thought of a way,

That really I think will be better than play,

I’ll try to be good, if I can, the whole day.

No passion, no pouting, no crying: no, no,

They make me unhappy wherever I go,

And it would be a pity to spoil a day so.

I don’t choose to be such a baby, not I,

To quarrel, and sulk, and be naughty, and cry,

So now I’ll begin, for at least I can try.