The Phantom Sister

David⁠—he is my youngest son; There are, you know, three others⁠— Appears to think it’s not much fun To only just have brothers.

He likes them all, you understand, But there is this objection: They don’t wear pretty dresses and They don’t crave his affection.

So he has added to the fold A little sister, “Bessie.” She’s just his age⁠—that’s three years old⁠— And very awful dressy.

Yet she’s not vain, but seems to be Of rather shy demeanor; Outside of Dave, her family Have not so much as seen her.

Which we regret, for as I say Her clothes are awful pretty. They come in truckloads every day From stores in New York City.