Those Two boys

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