WHEN Bill was a lad he was terribly bad. <br /> He worried his parents a lot; <br />He'd lie and he'd swear and pull little girls' hair; <br /> His boyhood was naught but a blot. <br /> <br />At play and in school he would fracture each rule— 5 <br /> In mischief from autumn to spring; <br />And the villagers knew when to manhood he grew <br /> He would never amount to a thing. <br /> <br />When Jim was a child he was not very wild; <br /> He was known as a good little boy; <br />He was honest and bright and the teacher's delight— <br /> To his mother and father a joy. <br /> <br />All the neighbors were sure that his virtue'd endure, <br /> That his life would be free of a spot; <br />They were certain that Jim had a great head on him 15 <br /> And that Jim would amount to a lot. <br /> <br />And Jim grew to manhood and honor and fame <br /> And bears a good name; <br />While Bill is shut up in a dark prison cell— <br /> You never can tell.<br /><br />Franklin P. Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/those-two-boys/
