Classic Poem

My girlie cried, and off I hied
To see what ill assailed her.
And tho' in every way I tried,
I failed to find what ailed her.

I thought perhaps she'd had a dream,
Which left a bad impression;
But this was not what made her scream
I learnt by her confession.

“Come tell me now,” again I said,
As soft I rocked to hush her,
“Oh! Ma!” she sobbed, “Tis afraid
Of big black bears in Russia.”