A tale of two French brothers. In a house, there are two brothers who live in separate dorms. The older brother's room stays clean, he tends it every day, The younger makes his all a mess, destroys it with his play, The younger sees the older's room and demands to have it new, The mother hears the younger son, and says "ask father, too," The father, however, he says "no," you must sleep in the bed you've made But the younger brother breaks right in, and in his brother's bed he lays The mother says "he's happier here, surely he must stay." The noble older brother says "father, it's okay." The father brings the younger's bed into the older's room, and says "alright," but please just know, You must respect this room. The younger, after days, of course, dirties all his side, And complains to both his parents, "I have nothing, his are better! all my sheets are torn to fetters I want his dresser, and his treasures!" Are the things the younger cried The mother says "maybe he'll share?" And the father says "he will not." But the younger takes it anyways, and the older has a thought. The older says "father, can I take younger's old room?" The father says "of course, my son" as older goes off with broom. The older cleans younger's old room, and once it's good and fair, he brings the old and tattered bed, rights it and now sleeps there. But the older's old room is ruined now, destroyed and all amuck. So the younger begs for his old room back, and curses his bad luck.