The Masterpiece

My mother cut it out for me
And started it so I could see;
And then she turned some edges in
And let me take it to begin.
I made it. But I did not know
How very hard it is to sew.
I took a long time for that stitch,
And now it’s there, I don’t know which
Is better. But not one is small,
And they are not alike at all.
That side was very hard to fix;
And then the needle always pricks,
But you must hold it and take care,
Because the point is always there.
And knots keep coming, by and by;
And then, no matter how you try,
The thread comes out of its old eye.

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But someway, now I have it done,—
I think it is a pretty one.