diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 09:11:14 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 09:11:14 -0800 |
| commit | 3147d8b9a790d523f2de2d341c04f3701a039fd8 (patch) | |
| tree | 51a5068c800505c4f8a6c9e6033af23642c87b6b | |
| parent | a5fd2dd8520bb8f5928344f369572295afcaa14c (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-0.txt | 5951 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-0.zip | bin | 80910 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h.zip | bin | 2615607 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/63514-h.htm | 6155 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/colophon.png | bin | 5743 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 185690 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_010fp.jpg | bin | 222845 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_014fp.jpg | bin | 129500 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_032fp.jpg | bin | 197875 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_042fp.jpg | bin | 187409 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_052fp.jpg | bin | 119730 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_084fp.jpg | bin | 226743 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_088fp.jpg | bin | 126217 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_094fp.jpg | bin | 175985 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_104fp.jpg | bin | 102887 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_136fp.jpg | bin | 100467 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_162fp.jpg | bin | 140554 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_176fp.jpg | bin | 138018 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_180fp.jpg | bin | 100214 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_208fp.jpg | bin | 89052 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_228fp.jpg | bin | 80053 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63514-h/images/i_frontis.jpg | bin | 217338 -> 0 bytes |
25 files changed, 17 insertions, 12106 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e4f81d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63514 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63514) diff --git a/old/63514-0.txt b/old/63514-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ff13d9c..0000000 --- a/old/63514-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5951 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Boys and Girls, by James W. Foley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Boys and Girls - The Verses of James W. Foley - -Author: James W. Foley - -Release Date: October 21, 2020 [EBook #63514] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOYS AND GIRLS *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Sharon Joiner, Chuck Greif -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - THE VERSES OF - JAMES W. FOLEY - - [Illustration: SONG OF SUMMER DAYS] - - - - - BOYS AND GIRLS - - THE VERSES OF - JAMES W. FOLEY - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK - E·P·DUTTON & COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - COPYRIGHT, 1905, 1907, 1909, 1910, 1911 - BY JAMES W. FOLEY - - COPYRIGHT, 1913 - BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY - - - THE·PLIMPTON·PRESS - NORWOOD·MASS·U·S·A· - - - TO MY WIFE - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - -AWAY 3 - -THE RECIPROCITY OF SMILES 5 - -A DOMESTIC RIPPLE 7 - -THE ADAMS’S BOYS 9 - -BILLY PEEBLE’S CHRISTMAS 11 - -THE WAY HE USED TO DO 16 - -A BOY’S VACATION TIME 18 - -A BOY’S CHOICE 20 - -A DISCOURAGED KINDERGARTNER 22 - -THE DELUSION OF GHOSTS 24 - -A STORY OF SELF-SACRIFICE 25 - -THE LOST CHILD 28 - -DOUGHNUTTING TIME 30 - -A MODERN MIRACLE 32 - -NERVOUSTOWN 34 - -SONG OF SUMMER DAYS 36 - -WHAT MOTHER DOESN’T KNOW 37 - -SO LONESOME NOW 39 - -A LITTLE LOVE STORY 41 - -ON A NOISELESS FOURTH 43 - -CONSCIOUS IGNORANCE 45 - -THE PLAYTIME OF BACHELOR BILL 47 - -HOW HENRY BLAKE KNOWS 49 - -THE LAND OF BLOW BUBBLES 50 - -THE GINGERCAKE MAN 52 - -LONESOME 54 - -THE GARDEN OF PLAY 57 - -WE AIN’T SCARED OF PA 59 - -A PEARL OF PRICE 61 - -DEAR LITTLE, QUEER LITTLE MAN 63 - -GIRL OF MINE 65 - -CHUMS 67 - -THE LOST BOY 69 - -LINES TO A BABY GIRL 71 - -LITTLE MISCHEFUSS 73 - -THE TRAVELS OF MORTIMER BROWN 75 - -ADVENTURERS THREE 77 - -WHEN THEY LOVE YOU SO 79 - -SOMEBODY DID 81 - -THE WADERS 83 - -THE PRISONED PUPIL 85 - -A PRAYER FOR JIMMY BANKS 87 - -A CHILD’S CHRISTMAS PRAYER 89 - -HENRY BLAKE’S CHUM 91 - -ONCE UPON A TIME 93 - -THE WAY TO SCHOOL 95 - -A PRESENT FOR LITTLE BOY BLUE 97 - -THE EVOLUTION OF AN ADOPTION 99 - -SOME GIRLS THAT MAMMA KNEW 101 - -GONE 103 - -THE NEIGHBOR’S BOYS 104 - -A QUIET AFTERNOON 106 - -THE OWNERLESS TOYS 108 - -THE STRANGER 110 - -IN VACATION TIME 112 - -BEREAVED 114 - -TWO LITTLE MAIDS 117 - -A NEW CHRISTMAS CAROL 118 - -THE RECONCILIATION OF PA 120 - -A WORLD WITHOUT CARE 122 - -RIGHT AFTER SCHOOL 124 - -A PLEA FOR OLD FRIENDS 127 - -THE BOYVILLE CADETS 129 - -A LITTLE BOY I KNOW 132 - -ASLEEP AT THE CIRCUS 135 - -THE BARRIERS 137 - -THE PLAINT OF THE NEW DOLL 139 - -A CHILD’S ALMANAC 141 - -THE LOSER 143 - -BACK TO SCHOOL 146 - -DISENCHANTMENTS 148 - -A RAINY NIGHT 150 - -KITCHEN MIRACLES 152 - -JIM BRADY’S BIG BROTHER 154 - -THE SCAPEGOAT 156 - -A TRAGEDY OF CENTER FIELD 158 - -IN SWIMMING 161 - -AN UNUSUAL CHUM 163 - -AND JUST THEN 164 - -AFTERWARDS 167 - -CIRCUS DAY 168 - -THE TOUR OF A SMILE 170 - -WHEN GRANDPA PLAYS 172 - -THE PARTED WAYS 175 - -A MESSAGE HOME 177 - -LULLABY 180 - -DISGUISING TOIL 182 - -LITTLE GIRL WITH THE CURLS 185 - -MY WONDERFUL DAD 187 - -REMEMBRANCES, BILL 190 - -THE BEREAVEMENT 192 - -IN CHILDHOOD TIME 194 - -DON’T 196 - -EXTINGUISHED 198 - -THE UNCHEERED HERO 199 - -OLD HALLOWE’EN FRIENDS 201 - -A REFUGE IN DISTRESS 203 - -THE LOST HEART 205 - -VERSES OF A LITTLE CHILD 208 - -GOLDEN DAYS IN SLOWVILLE 210 - -THE HEART OF A CHILD 213 - -THE STRENUOUS LIFE 214 - -A SONG OF MOTHERHOOD 216 - -YOUTH 218 - -AFTER THE YEARS 220 - -A VERSE TO MEMORY 222 - -LEST I FORGET 224 - -ECHO OF A SONG 226 - -LOVERS’ LANE 228 - -DADDY KNOWS 230 - -TO CHILDREN AT THE HEARTH 232 - -A TOAST TO THE SMALL BOY 234 - -AN ADVENTUROUS DAY 236 - -POEM OF THE FORAGERS 238 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - -BY REGINALD BIRCH - - -Song of Summer Days _Frontispiece_ - -The Adams’s Boys _facing page_ 10 - -Billy Peeble’s Christmas 14 - -A Modern Miracle 32 - -A Little Love Story 42 - -The Gingercake Man 52 - -The Waders 84 - -A Prayer for Jimmy Banks 88 - -Once Upon A Time 94 - -The Neighbor’s Boys 104 - -Asleep at the Circus 136 - -In Swimming 162 - -The Parted Ways 176 - -Lullaby 180 - -Verses of a Little Child 208 - -Lover’s Lane 228 - - - - -BOYS AND GIRLS - - - - -AWAY - - - “I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, - As he clattered him down the stair, - And found him a hat for his curly head - And called to a dog somewhere. - Then off like a flash down the shady lane - With a whistle and cry and song; - And back to us ever it came again: - “I won’t be gone very long.” - - “I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, - As we saw him among the trees, - His eyes all bright and his cheeks all red, - A friend of the birds and bees; - Then through the hedges and out of the gate, - For naught in the world goes wrong - With a boy of six or seven or eight-- - “I won’t be gone very long.” - - “I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, - “I’m just going out to play.” - And the curly dog barked and the two of them sped - Over the clover away. - He waved us a kiss with a little brown hand - And cries rose from here and there, - For oh, but a boy does understand - A dog and the open air! - - “I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, - “Don’t wait any supper--you see, - I’ll just have a bowl of milk and bread - And my dog he will eat with me.” - Then he swung his hat on its tangled string - Till the curly dog wagged his tail - And romped and played like a boy in spring - And barked him a comrade’s hail. - - “I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said-- - Oh, Mother of him, don’t cry! - The leaves come green again, yellow and red, - And the years and the years go by. - But sometime he’ll come, as we’ve seen him do, - With the bark of a dog and a song, - For it must be true--oh, it must be true - That he’ll not be gone very long! - - - - -THE RECIPROCITY OF SMILES - - - Sometimes I wonder why they smile so pleasantly at me, - And pat my head when they pass by as friendly as can be; - Sometimes I wonder why they stop to tell me How-d’-do, - And ask me then how old I am and where I’m going to; - And ask me can I spare a curl and say they used to know - A little girl that looked like me, oh, years and years ago; - And I told Mamma how they smiled and asked her why they do, - So she said if you smile at folks they always smile at you. - - I never knew I smiled at them when they were going by, - I guess it smiled all by itself and that’s the reason why; - I just look up from playing if it’s any one I know - And they most always smile at me and maybe say Hello; - And I can smile at any one, no matter who or where, - Because I’m just a little girl with lots of them to spare; - And Mamma said we ought to smile at folks, and if you do - Most always they feel better and they smile right back at you. - - And when so many smile at me and ask me for a curl - It makes me think most everybody likes a little girl; - And once when I was playing and a man was going by - He smiled at me and then he rubbed some dust out of his eye, - Because it made it water so, and said he used to know - A little girl up in his yard who used to smile just so; - And then I asked why don’t she now and then he said “You see--” - And then he rubbed his eye again and only smiled at me. - - - - -A DOMESTIC RIPPLE - - - Some days my Pa is thist so cross - ’At Ma, she snaps him off an’ said: - “I guess your father must ’a’ got - Up on th’ wrong side of th’ bed.” - An’ ’en Pa says he’d like to eat - Thist bread, he would, in peace once more; - An’ Ma, she bu’sts out cryin’ nen - An’ Pa goes out an’ slams th’ door-- - An’ ’en I git a spankin’! - - Thist ’fore he gits his breakfast, Pa - He never hardly speaks to us, - An’ Ma, she says it shames her so - T’ have him go an’ make a fuss - Before th’ girl. Pa, he don’t care, - An’ ’en he says--“Th’ girl be----!” - An’ Ma says--“Oh, t’ think he’d swear - Before his child!” Th’ door gits slammed-- - An’ ’en I git a spankin’! - - An’ ’en, ’em days, th’ littlest things - I do ’ll almost drive her wild, - An’ she says “Goodness sakes alive! - Was ever such another child?” - An’ she says: “Do run out an’ play!” - An’ thist when I git started, nen - She hollers right at me this way: - “Willyum! You march right in again!” - An’ ’en I git a spankin’! - - An’ Pa, he don’t come home to lunch - ’Cuz Ma, she says he’s too ashamed - To face her after such a scene - An’ says she surely can’t be blamed - For Pa’s mean, ugly, hateful ways, - An’ Ma ain’t got no heart to eat, - Nen, thist ’cuz I want honey on - My bread, er jam, er sumpin sweet-- - Why nen I git a spankin’! - - An’ ’en, along ’bout supper time - Pa sneaks in thist th’ easiest - You ever see; an’ nen he looks - For Ma; an’ she’s th’ freeziest - ’At ever was. An’ Pa, he’s got - Some candy an’ he says he’s ’shamed, - An’ fin’ly Ma says mebbe she - Was also partly to be blamed, - An’ ’en ’at ends my spankin’! - - - - -THE ADAMS’S BOYS - - - The Adams’s children, they just romp and play - And fall out of trees in the carelessest way, - And might break their legs from the way that they fall, - But they get up laughing and not hurt at all, - ’Cause boys’ bones are soft, so their grandfather said; - And John Quincy Adams, he stands on his head - And drinks from a dipper, and all over town - The boys will tell you how he drinks upside down. - - The Adams’s children, they make enough noise - In the yard where they live for three times as much boys, - And sometimes they laugh and you hear it as clear - As can be up to Tinker’s and way over here; - And they’ve got a dog which is almost the same - As the rest of the boys and will play every game, - And bark all the time, and he makes so much noise - He’s just like the rest of the Adams’s boys. - - The Adams’s children, they go out to ride - On a pony of theirs, with them all three astride, - And the boy up in front makes him kick up and then - The boy way behind, he gets thrown off again; - And the Adams’s pony, he looks just as though - He’s trying to laugh when the others laugh so; - It looks like a laugh, but he can’t make a noise - Like the dog or the rest of the Adams’s boys. - - The Adams’s children, they go out to play - And sometimes their mother don’t see them all day, - But she never frets, ’cause the world is too small, - So she said, for three boys to get lost in it all. - And sometimes she listens outdoors and she hears - The laughing and barking way over to Geer’s, - Which is most half a mile, and she smiles, because then - She knows they’ll be home when they’re hungry again. - - The Adams’s children, they get on as though - They were three great chums and not brothers, you know; - And folks like to hear them, when they’re going past, - With the big one ahead and the little one last. - They’ve always got playmates of their very own, - And don’t have to do chores or to study alone, - And everything seems to be three times the fun - For the Adams’s children as though there’s just one! - -[Illustration: THE ADAMS’S BOYS] - - - - -BILLY PEEBLE’S CHRISTMAS - - - Billy Peeble, he ain’t got no parents--never had none, ’cause - When he’s borned he was an orfunt; an’ he said ’at Santa Claus - Never didn’t leave him nothin’, ’cause he was a county charge, - An’ the overseer told him that his fambly was too large - To remember orfunt children; so I ast Ma couldn’t we - Have Bill Peeble up to our house, so’s to see our Christmas tree. - An’ she ast me if he’s dirty; an’ I said I guessed he was, - But I didn’t think it makes no difference with Santa Claus. - - My his clo’es was awful ragged! Ma, she put him in a tub - An’ she poured it full of water, an’ she gave him such a scrub - ’At he ’ist set there an’ shivered; an’ he told me afterwurds - ’At he never washed all over out to Overseer Bird’s! - ’En she burned his ragged trousies an’ she gave him some of mine; - My! she rubbed him an’ she scrubbed him till she almost made him shine, - Nen he ’ist looked all around him like he’s scairt for quite a w’ile, - An’ even w’en Ma’d pat his head he wouldn’t hardly smile. - - ’En after w’ile Ma took some flour-sacks an’ ’en she laid - ’Em right down at the fireplace, ’ist ’cause she is afraid - Santa Claus ’ll soil the carpet when he comes down there, you know; - An’ Billy Peeble watched her, an’ his eyes stuck out--’ist so! - ’En Ma said ’at in the mornin’ if we’d look down on the sacks - ’At they’d be ’ist full of soot where Santa Claus had made his tracks; - Billy Peeble stood there, lookin’! An’ he told me afterwurds - He was scairt he’d wake right up an’ be at Overseer Bird’s. - - Well, ’en she hung our stockin’s up an’ after w’ile she said: - “Now, you an’ Billy Peeble better go right off to bed, - An’ if you hear a noise tonight, don’t you boys make a sound, - ’Cause Santa Claus don’t never come with little boys around!” - So me an’ Billy went to bed, an’ Billy Peeble, he - Could hardly go to sleep at all--’ist tossed an’ tossed. You see - We had such w’ite sheets on the bed an’ he said afterwurds - They never had no sheets at all at Overseer Bird’s. - - So we ’ist laid an’ talked an’ talked. An’ Billy ast me who - Was Santa Claus. An’ I said I don’t know if it’s all true, - But people say he’s some old man who ’ist loves little boys - An’ keeps a store at the north pole with heaps an’ heaps of toys - W’ich he brings down in a big sleigh, with reindeers for his steeds, - An’ comes right down the chimbly flue an’ leaves ’ist what you needs. - My! he’s excited w’en I told him that! An’ afterwurds - He said they never had no toys at Overseer Bird’s. - - I’m fallin’ pretty near asleep w’en Billy Peeble said: - “Sh-sh! What’s that noise?” An’ w’en he spoke I set right up in bed - Till sure enough I heard it in the parlor down below, - An’ Billy Peeble, he set up an’ ’en he said: “Le’s go!” - So we got up an’ sneaked down stairs, an’ both of us could see - ’At it was surely Santa Claus, ’ist like Ma said he’d be; - But he must heard us comin’ down, because he stopped an’ said: - “You, Henry Blake an’ William Peeble, go right back to bed!” - - My goodness, we was awful scairt! An’ both of us was pale, - An’ Billy Peeble said up stairs: “My! Ain’t he ’ist a whale!” - We didn’t hardly dare to talk and got back into bed - An’ Billy pulled the counterpane clear up above his head, - An’ in the mornin’ w’en we looked down on the flour-sacks, - W’y sure enough we saw the soot where he had made his tracks, - An’ Billy got a suit of clothes, a drum, an’ sled an’ books, - Till he ’ist never said a word, but my! how glad he looks! - - ’En after w’ile it’s dinner time an’ Billy Peeble set - Right next to Pa, an’ my! how he ’ist et an’ et an’ et! - Till he ’ist puffed an’ had to leave his second piece of pie - -[Illustration: BILLY PEEBLE’S CHRISTMAS] - - Because he couldn’t eat no more. An’ after dinner, w’y, - Ma dressed him up in his new clo’es, an Billy Peeble said - He’s sorry he’s an orfunt, an’ Ma patted Billy’s head, - W’ich made him cry a little bit, an’ he said afterwurds - Nobody ever pats his head at Overseer Bird’s. - - An’ all day long Pa looked at Ma an’ Ma she looked at him, - Because, Pa said ’at Billy looked a little bit like Jim - ’At was my baby brother, but he died oncet, years ago, - An’ ’at’s w’y Billy Peeble makes my mother like him so. - She says ’at Santa brought him as a present, ’ist instead - Of little Jim ’at died oncet. So she ’ist put him to bed - On Christmas night an’ tucked him in an’ told me afterwurds - ’At he ain’t never goin’ back to Overseer Bird’s. - - - - -THE WAY HE USED TO DO - - - Sometimes when I come in at night - And take my shoes off at the stair, - I hear my Pop turn on the light - And holler: “William, are you there?” - And then he says: “You go to bed-- - I knew that stealthy step was you.” - And I asked how and then he said: - “’Cause that’s the way I used to do.” - - Sometimes when I come home at six - O’clock and hurry up my chores, - And get a big armful of sticks - Of wood and bring it all indoors, - My Pop he comes and feels my head - And says: “You’ve been in swimmin’--you!” - When I asked how he knew, he said: - “’Cause that’s the way I used to do.” - - Sometimes before a circus comes, - When I’m as willing as can be - To do my chores, and all my chums - They all take turns at helping me, - My Pop, he pats ’em on the head - And says: “You like a circus, too?” - When I asked how he knew, he said: - “’Cause that’s the way I used to do.” - And lots of times when he gets mad - Enough to whip me and declares - He never saw another lad - Like I am--well, at last he spares - Me from a whipping and he lays - His rawhide down: “I can’t whip you - For that, although I should,” he says, - “’Cause that’s the way I used to do.” - - - - -A BOY’S VACATION TIME - - - Hail, that long-awaited day - When, the school books laid away, - All the thoughts of merry youngsters turn from pages back to play! - Done with lesson and with rule, - Done with teacher and with school, - Stray the vagrant hearts of childhood to the tempting wood and pool! - - Who will tell in rune and rhyme - Of the glory and the grime - In the dusty lanes and byways of a boy’s vacation time? - Hark, the whistle and the cry - That is piping shrill and high - From the chorus of glad youngsters trooping riotously by! - - Say, did sun e’er brightly shine - As when, with his rod and line - Tramps the barefoot lad a-fishing, and the water clear and fine? - Sweet the murmur of the trees, - And what glory now he sees - In the chatter of the wild birds and the buzz of bumble-bees! - - Hear the green woods cry and call, - Through the Summer to the Fall, - “We are waiting, waiting, waiting, with a welcome for you all!” - Hear the lads take up the cry, - With an echo, shrill and high: - “We are coming, coming, coming, for vacation time is nigh!” - - How the skies are blue and fair, - How the clover scents the air - With a witchery of fragrance that is delicate and rare! - How the blossoms bud and blow, - And the great waves flood and flow - In the ocean of boy happiness, like billows, to and fro! - - Ah, my heart goes back and sighs - When the piping calls and cries - From the hearts of merry youngsters like a song of triumph rise! - And I would that rune and rhyme - Might be splendid and sublime - In my heart to tell the story of a boy’s vacation time! - - - - -A BOY’S CHOICE - - - I’d ruther take a w’ippin’ ’an a scoldin’ any day, - ’Cuz a w’ippin’ makes you tingle, but you go right out an’ play, - An’ after w’ile you’re over it an’ ’en at dinner, w’y, - Your mother’s awful sorry an’ she brings a piece of pie - An’ says she hates to do it, ’cuz it hurts her ’ist as bad - As it does anybody w’en she w’ips her little lad. - - An’ ’en at night she kisses you an’ puts you into bed - An’ tucks the covers in an’ says you’re Mamma’s Turly-head, - An’ my! she’s ’ist so lovely! An’ she sits beside of you - ’Ist ’cuz she feels so sorry over w’at she had to do. - An’ ’en she leaves the candle burn an’ says for you to call - If you want anything from her, an’ you ain’t scairt at all! - - But w’en you get a scoldin’ she don’t never bring you pie, - Becuz you’ll surely break her heart; an’ ’en she starts to cry; - An’ my! you feel so sorry, an’ you wisht she wouldn’t, ’cuz - It shows you how you’ve grieved her an’ how turble bad you wuz. - An’ all day long she never smiles; an’ w’en you go to bed - She never leaves the candle burn or calls you Turly-head. - - An’ sometimes you see big, w’ite things a-lookin’ at your bed, - ’At makes you scairt an’ pull the covers up above your head, - An’ ’en you s’pose how would you feel if Mamma wuz to die, - An’ biumby you feel so bad ’at you ’ist start to cry. - So w’en she looks at you so hurt an’ talks to you ’at way-- - I’d ruther take a w’ippin’ ’an a scoldin’ any day! - - - - -A DISCOURAGED KINDERGARTNER - - - ’Is mornin’ mamma told me - ’At I mus’ be awful dood, - ’Tuz I’m startin’ on my schooldays - An’ I promised her I would. - But I’m awful much ’iscouraged - ’Tuz I tried so hard to det - All the lessons teacher gave me, - But I tant read yet! - - My! it’s awful long till dinner, - An’ I couldn’t hardly wait - Wen I dot done wif my letters - An’ I wrote ’em on my slate, - An’ I’m ’shamed to tell my mamma - ’At I dess she’ll have to let - Me go back again tomorrow, - ’Tuz I tant read yet. - - She’ll be awful disappointed, - ’Tuz I’ve been there half a day, - An’ she’ll think I didn’t study - Or it wouldn’t be that way. - But I don’t s’pose I tan help it, - An’ it does no dood to fret, - ’Tuz I’ve been to school all mornin’ - An’ I tant read yet. - - I dess our teacher’s stupid, - ’Tuz she didn’t seem to care - W’en I went right up an’ told her - Were she’s sittin’ in her chair, - ’At I’m awful much ’iscouraged - An’ my Mamma she would fret - ’Tuz I’ve been to school all mornin’ - An’ I tant read yet. - - An’ ’en she started laughin’, - It’s as true as I’m alive, - An’ ast how old I am, an’ ’en - I told her half past five, - An’ ’en she tame an’ tissed me, - ’Tuz my eyes are dettin’ wet, - An’ told me not to worry - ’Tuz I tant read yet. - - I dess if she had Mother Goose - She’d be ’isturbed herself, - If she ’ud go an’ det it - Down f’m off th’ lib’ry shelf, - An’ ’en w’en it is open, - I dess she’s apt to fret - If she’s been to school all mornin’ - An’ she tant read yet! - - - - -THE DELUSION OF GHOSTS - - - Sometimes when I got to do errands at night - An’ th’ moon is all dark an’ th’ ain’t any light, - An’ th’ wind, when it blows, makes a shivery sound, - An’ everything seems awful still all around; - Sometimes when a hoot-owl goes “Woo-oo-oo-oo!” - My legs feel so funny; I’m all goose-flesh, too. - An’ maybe I’m startled when I hear it call, - But I ain’t a bit scairt; I’m thes’ nervous, that’s all. - - Oncet me an’ Joe Simpson wuz walkin’ one night - A’ past th’ old graveyard, an’ saw somethin’ white - ’Et looked like a ghost, standin’ right in th’ road, - An’ my, Joe wuz scairt! ’Cuz he said ’et he knowed - It wuz surely a ghost; an’ I wisseled, becuz - When you wissel you scare ’em; an’ all that it wuz - Wuz a great, big, white cow; an’ it thes’ walked away, - An’ I wuzn’t no more scairt ’n if it wuz day! - - ’Cuz I don’t b’lieve in ghosts, an’ I’d thes’ as lieve go - A’ past any graveyard an’ walk awful slow, - An’ wissel, an’ sit on th’ top of th’ fence, - ’Cuz th’ ain’t any ghosts if you got any sense. - An’ when we saw that big white thing by th’ road - ’Et Joe wuz so scairt of, I wuzn’t. I knowed - All th’ time it’s no ghost. I wuz nervous becuz - I knowed what it wuzn’t, but not what it wuz! - - - - -A STORY OF SELF-SACRIFICE - - - Pop took me to the circus ’cause it disappoints me so - To have to stay at home, although he doesn’t care to go; - He’s seen it all so many times, the wagons and the tents; - The cages of wild animals and herds of elephants; - This morning he went down with me to watch the big parade, - He was so dreadful busy that he oughtn’t to have stayed, - He said he’d seen it all before and all the reason he - Went down and watched it coming was because it’s new to me. - - Then we walked to the circus grounds and Pop he says: “I guess - You want a glass of lemonade, of course,” and I says: “Yes.” - And he bought one for each of us, and when he drank his he - Told me he drank it only just to keep me company; - And then he says, “The sideshow is, I s’pose, the same old sell, - But everybody’s goin’ in, so we might just as well.” - He said he’d seen it all before, and all the reason he - Went in and saw it was because it was all new to me. - - Well, by and by we both came out and went in the big tent, - And saw the lions and tigers and the bigges’ elephant - With chains on his front corner and an awful funny nose - That looks around for peanuts that the crowd of people throws; - And Pop, he bought some peanuts and it curled its nose around - Until it found most every one that he threw on the ground; - He said he’d seen it all before, and all the reason he - Stayed there and threw ’em was because it was all new to me. - - Well, then the band began to play the liveliestest tune, - And Pop, he says he guessed the show would open pretty soon; - So we went in the other tent, and Pop, he says to me: - “I guess we’ll get some reserved seats so you will surely see.” - And then some lovely ladies came and stood there on the ground, - And jumped up on the horses while the horses ran around; - Pop said he’d seen it all before, and all the reason he - Looked at the ladies was because it was all new to me. - - Well, finally it’s over, but a man came out to say - That they’re going to have a concert, and Pop said we’d better stay; - He said they’re always just the same and always such a sell, - But lots of folks was staying and he guessed we might as well. - Then by and by we’re home again, and Mamma wants to know - What kind of circus was it, and Pop said, “The same old show,” - And said he’d seen it all before and all the reason he - Had stayed and seen it all was ’cause it’s all so new to me. - - - - -THE LOST CHILD - - - I ’member when they cut my curls not very long ago, - Because they looked just like a girl’s, and I’m a boy, you know; - I used to wear ’em awful long, and once my Pa, he said, - It’s time I had my curls cut off and wore short hair instead; - Because I’m big enough for that; and then they took the shears - And snipped my curls off one by one right close up to my ears, - But every time a curl came off, my Mother, she just hid - Her face a little bit and cried. I wonder why she did! - - And after while she picked one up and held it in her hand - With something shining in her eyes I didn’t understand; - She petted it as if it was a little boy or girl, - And acted fond of it when it was nothing but a curl. - And after while they’re all cut off and down there on the floor, - And I looked much more like a boy than I had been before, - But there was something in her eyes she tried and tried and tried - To brush away, but still it came. I wonder why she cried. - - And after while I’m all trimmed off, and then my Pa, he said, - I’m not a baby any more, but I’m a boy instead, - And he is awful proud of me, and then my Ma, she smiled - And said we found a boy that day and lost a little child; - So I said I would hunt for him and bring him back but then - She said she was afraid that he would not come back again; - And picked the curls I had all up from off the floor and hid - Them in her bureau drawer and cried. I wonder why she did. - - - - -DOUGHNUTTING TIME - - - Wunst w’en our girl wuz makin’ pies an’ doughnuts--’ist a lot-- - We stood around with great, big eyes, ’cuz we boys like ’em hot; - An’ w’en she dropped ’em in the lard they sizzled ’ist like fun. - An’ w’en she takes ’em out it’s hard to keep from takin’ one. - - An’ ’en she says: “You boys’ll get all spattered up with grease, - An’ biumby she says she’ll let us have ’ist one apiece; - So I took one for me an’ one for little James McBride, - The widow’s only orfunt son ’at’s waitin’ there outside. - - An’ Henry, he took one ’ist for himself an’ Nellie Flynn, - ’At’s waitin’ at the kitchen door an’ dassent to come in - Becuz her mother told her not, an’ Johnny, he took two, - ’Cuz Amy Brennan likes ’em hot, ’ist like we chinnern do. - - ’En Henry happened ’ist to think he didn’t get a one - For little Ebenezer Brink, the carpet beater’s son, - Who never gets ’em home becuz he says he ain’t quite sure - But thinks perhaps the reason wuz his folkses are too poor. - - An’ ’en I give my own away to little Willie Beggs - ’At fell way down his stairs one day an’ give him crooked legs, - ’Cuz Willie always seems to know w’en our girl’s goin’ to bake, - He wouldn’t ast for none-oh, no! But, my! he’s fond of cake. - - So I went back an’ ’en I got another one for me - Right out the kettle, smokin’ hot an’ brown as it could be, - An’ John, he got one, too, becuz he give his own to Clare, - An’ w’en our girl, she looked, there wuz ’ist two small doughnuts there! - - My! She wuz angry w’en she looked an’ saw ’ist them two there, - An’ says she knew ’at she had cooked a crock full an’ to spare, - She says it’s awful ’scouragin’ to bake an’ fret an’ fuss, - An’ w’en she thinks she’s got ’em in the crock they’re all in us! - - - - -A MODERN MIRACLE - - - Once w’en I’m sick th’ doctor come - An’ ’en I put my tongue ’way out, - An’ he says, “H-m-m! Nurse, get me some - Warm water, please.” An’ in about - A minute, w’y, she did an’ ’en - He put a glass thing into it - An’ ’en he wiped it off again - An’ put it in my mouth a bit. - - ’En after w’ile he took it out - An’ held it up w’ere he could see, - An’ ’en he says, “H-m-m! ’Ist about - Too high a half of a degree.” - An’ ’en Ma asked him if I’m bad - An’ he says “Nope!” ’ist gruff an’ cross - ’An says “W’y you can’t kill a lad, - An’ if you do it ain’t much loss!” - - An’ ’en she’s mad an’ he ’ist bust - Out laughin’ an’ he says, “Don’t fret, - He’s goin’ t’ be all right, I trust. - W’y he ain’t even half dead yet.” - An’ ’en he felt my pulse, ’at way, - An’ patted me upon my head - An’ says “There ain’t no school today, - ’Cuz one of th’ trustees is dead!” - -[Illustration: A MODERN MIRACLE] - - An’ my, I’m awful sorry w’en - He told me that. An’ ’en he said - “He’ll be all right by noon.” An’ ’en - He went away. An’ Ma says “Ned, - How do you feel?” An’ ’en, you know, - Since Doctor told me that, somehow, - I’m awful sick a while ago, - But, my! I’m almost well right now! - - - - -NERVOUSTOWN - - - Oh, there’s never a noise in Nervoustown; - Not the cry of a youngster; and up or down - There’s never a cheer or a whistle shrill; - Just silence, like that of the grave, so still; - The horses trot with a muffled tread, - But the place seems lonesome and drear and dead, - For a cloth-bound head and a nervous frown - Are all you may see in Nervoustown. - - Sh-h! you must walk with noiseless tread - For there’s many a hot and aching head; - The doors are closed and the blinds are down, - For it must be dark in Nervoustown. - And you mustn’t whistle or shout or cheer - Or slam the doors! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! - Lest a cloth-bound head and a terrible frown - Poke out at you from Nervoustown. - - Oh, there’s never a person there but goes - On the very tip of his tippy-toes; - Nor ever a lad has heard at all - Of follow-my-leader or rude baseball; - It’s much as your life is worth to yell, - The flowers can’t grow for the camphor-smell; - While a big policeman, up and down, - Cries “Sh-h!” through the streets of Nervoustown. - - And a little boy, who didn’t know, - Once years and years and years ago, - Gave three loud, lusty cheers one day - For something or other, I can’t say, - And they snipped his head off--Oh! Oh! Oh! - With big, red, rusty shears, you know, - And cloth-bound heads bobbed up and down - With gladness all through Nervoustown. - - But, oh, it’s gloomy in Nervoustown, - With the doors tight shut and the blinds all down, - Where the frightened lad his whole life goes - On the very tips of his tippy-toes, - Where the hens don’t cluck and the birds don’t sing, - And even the church bells dare not ring - Lest a cloth-bound head with a terrible frown - Poke out at them from Nervoustown. - - - - -SONG OF SUMMER DAYS - - - Sing a song of hollow logs, - Chirp of cricket, croak of frogs, - Cry of wild bird, hum of bees, - Dancing leaves and whisp’ring trees; - Legs all bare and dusty toes, - Ruddy cheeks and freckled nose, - Splash of brook and swish of line, - Where the song that’s half so fine? - - Sing a song of summer days, - Leafy nooks and shady ways, - Nodding roses, apples red, - Clover like a carpet spread; - Sing a song of running brooks, - Cans of bait and fishing hooks, - Dewy hollows, yellow moons, - Birds a-pipe with merry tunes. - - Sing a song of skies of blue, - Eden’s garden made anew, - Scarlet hedges, leafy lanes, - Vine-embowered sills and panes; - Stretch of meadows, splashed with dew, - Silver clouds with sunlight through, - Cry of loon and pipe of wren, - Sing and call it home again. - - - - -WHAT MOTHER DOESN’T KNOW - - - Sometimes w’en I got to pile wood in the - yard, - ’Ist wringin’ with sweat ’cuz I’m workin’ so - hard, - An’ see all the neighbors’ boys startin’ to fish, - I can’t hardly work any more, an’ I wish - ’At I wuz a-goin’ an’ ’en right away - I run an’ ast Ma if I can’t go today, - An’ she says to me ’en: “Johnny Jones, you can run - Off an’ fish ’ist as soon as your work is all done. - - You must work while you work, - You must play while you play - An’ ’en you’ll be happy for many a day.” - An’ mebbe it’s so, - But my goodness! to go - With the boys ’at’s gone fishin’!--I guess she dunno! - - Sometimes w’en I got to hoe garden an’ hear - The boys playin’ ball in the next lot, so near - I hear ’em all cheerin’ an’ see ’em all score, - I can’t hardly stand it to hoe any more. - So ’en I ast Ma if I can’t go an’ play - An’ promise to hoe twict as much the next day, - But she says to me ’en: “Johnny Jones, you can run - Off an’ play ’ist as soon as your work is all done. - - You must work while you work, - You must play while you play - An’ ’en you’ll be happy for many a day.” - An’ mebbe it’s so, - But, my goodness! to hoe - W’en you hear ’em a-playin’!--I guess she dunno. - - Sometimes w’en the snow gets all piled up so deep - On the walk ’at she tells me to go out an’ sweep - It all off, an’ Sam Russell comes by with his sled, - My broom ’at I’m usin’ gets heavy as lead. - An’ I can’t hardly sweep, an’ I ast Ma if I - Can’t go out a-slidin’ an’ sweep by an’ by, - But she says to me ’en: “Johnny Jones, you can run - Off and slide ’ist as soon as your work is all done. - - You must work while you work, - You must play while you play - An’ ’en you’ll be happy for many a day.” - An’ mebbe it’s so, - But to have to sweep snow - W’en the boys are a-slidin’!--I guess she dunno. - - - - -SO LONESOME NOW - - - Over t’ Henry Murray’s, why, - They always had lots an’ lots o’ pie, - An’ toy automobiles an’ v’locipedes - An’ walkin’ toys, like a fellow reads - About sometimes, but he seldom sees, - An’ swings out under th’ big oak trees, - An’ childurn a-playin’ on every bough-- - But my! It is turrible lonesome now. - - Over t’ Henry Murray’s, why, - His mother an’ father ’ist seemed t’ try - An’ see if they couldn’t get some new toys - For Henry an’ all of us other boys - ’At played with him; an’ she used t’ make - Th’ dandiest currant an’ raisin cake, - An’ boys ’ist flocked there like flies, somehow-- - But my! It is turrible lonesome now. - - Over’t Henry Murray’s, why, - His mother ’ud see you goin’ by - An’ ast you why you didn’t come an’ play - With Henry an’ all of his toys, some day. - An’ every Christmas she’d have a tree - With presents, th’ finest you ever see, - An’ nobody got forgot, somehow-- - But my! It is turrible lonesome now. - - An’ over t’ Henry Murray’s, why, - We boys ’ist look while we’re goin’ by, - An’ see all his toys layin’ there outside. - Once Big Bill Skinner broke down an’ cried - An’ says he don’t care--it was ’ist too bad, - ’Cause Henry was all of th’ boy they had. - An’ th’ swings ’ist hang from th’ big oak bough bough-- - An’ my! It is turrible lonesome now. - - - - -A LITTLE LOVE STORY - - - She understands. I do not need to go - And tell her she is all the world to me. - I never speak a word to let her know - I will be faithful till Eternity, - But when, upon the way to school, she sees - Me come with two red apples in my hands - And hears me say: “Please, Sally Jane, take these,” - It is no wonder that she understands. - - Or when she sees me at the old front gate - With my new sled right after the first snow, - And from her window calls to me to wait - Until she asks her Mother can she go, - I do not need to tell her why I come - In my fur cap with mittens on my hands, - For even if my feelings make me dumb - She looks at me and then she understands. - - Or if she whispers something when in school, - As children are quite often apt to do, - Forgetting all about the teacher’s rule, - And teacher says to Sally: “Was that you?” - Why then I see how scared she is and rise - Up in my seat and hold up both my hands - And take the blame--she looks into my eyes eyes-- - I do not need to speak--she understands. - - Or if she has the measles so I dare - Not go up to her house, but I can look - In through the window and she sees me there, - And if I bring a dandy story book - And leave it on the fence post where the nurse - Can come and take it in, and if my hands - Have written, “Dear, I hope you’ll be no worse,” - I do not need to speak--she understands. - - I do not need to tell her how I feel-- - She only has to watch the things I do; - She knows my heart is true to her as steel, - And if it rains or if the sky is blue - I wait for her to walk to school with me, - And carry all her school-books in my hands, - And I am just as happy as can be, - And so is she--because she understands. - -[Illustration: A LITTLE LOVE STORY] - - - - -ON A NOISELESS FOURTH - - - On a noiseless street stood a crackerless lad with a screechless fife and - a headless drum, - Venting his glee in a voiceless shout, as a blareless band, all still and - dumb, - Came down the length of the avenue, and a bugle corps blew a noteless blare, - While a screechless rocket with noiseless hiss cut a fireless path through - the silent air. - The blareless band played a soundless tune and the crackerless lad gave a - voiceless shout - As the rippling folds of the unfurled flag from the upheld standard fluttered - out. - “Hurrah!” he cried with a voiceless cry, put forth from his lips in a - speechless way. - “Hurrah for the guns of Lexington and the noiseless Independence Day!” - - Then far away down the village street a smokeless gun belched a soundless - roar, - A popless cracker fizzless died, and the band played a blareless tune once - more; - The clickless guns of the village guards with a thudless sound dropped on - the ground. - The marshal left his neighless horse, and the voiceless mob ranged - all around; - A fizzless pinwheel silent whirred, and the drum corps joined in a tootless - screech, - The lips of the village speaker moved in the tongueless strains of - a wordless speech. - Then a graceless benediction fell, and the crackerless lad, in a voiceless - way, - Gave a soundless shout for Bunker Hill and the noiseless Independence Day. - - Oh, the pulseless thrill of the noiseless guns and the tootless fifes and - the headless drums, - The heartless joy of the crackerless lad, as the soundless pageant noiseless - comes - Down the village street, and the sightless glow of the hissless rocket’s - fireless glare - With noiseless swish from the silent earth through the measureless breadth - of the lightless air! - But a fingerless youth of the olden time, when crackers popped and cannons - roared, - Looked on the scene with much disgust and the look of a lad who is greatly - bored; - And he cried aloud--’twas the only sound that was heard, not made in a - voiceless way: - “Dog-gone the guns at Bunker Hill and the noiseless Independence Day!” - - - - -CONSCIOUS IGNORANCE - - - I’m only ’ist a little girl, - An’ w’en I want to play - An’ Mamma says don’t go outside - Our yard this livelong day, - An’ w’en some other girls ’ey come - An’ pester me to go, - It may be wrong, but I’m so young, - How does she s’pose I know? - - An’ ’en w’en she goes out sometimes - An’ says: “Now go to bed - At eight o’clock this very night,” - I ’member what she said. - But w’en the mantel clock strikes eight - An’ I don’t want to go, - It may be wrong, but I’m so young, - How does she s’pose I know? - - An’ w’en she says: “Now, don’t go near - The cookie jar this day,” - I want some cookies awful much - An’ try to stay away. - But all the time I’m hungry for - Some cookies, an’ I go-- - It may be wrong, but I’m so young, - How does she s’pose I know? - - I’m only ’ist a little girl - Not more ’n six years old, - An’ my, I always try to do - E’zactly as I’m told. - But w’en I make ’ist one mistake, - My Ma ought not to go - An’ punish me, ’cause I’m so young, - How does she s’pose I know? - - - - -THE PLAYTIME OF BACHELOR BILL - - - Our Uncle Bill’s a bachelur, an’ it’s an awful shame, - ’Cuz he knows stories about bears an’ knows ’em all by name. - An’ growls ’ist like a really one an’ makes you think a bear - Is underneath th’ table, but of course it isn’t there. - An’ when he takes you on his knee he talks ’ist like a book - An’ after w’ile your eyes get big an’ you’re a-scairt to look - W’en he says: “Nen a bear come out an’ ’ist went Boo-oo-oo!” - Becuz you almost think a bear is really after you. - - An’ ’en he plays wild Indian an’ hides himself somewheres - W’ile we look in th’ corners an’ behind th’ parlor chairs, - An’ peek in th’ dark closets an’ p’tend we’re on a scout - Till after w’ile he makes a whoop an’ ’en comes rushin’ out - ’Ist like he’s on th’ warpath; an’ us chinnern run upstairs - An’ hide in Mamma’s closet an’ he makes us think ’at bears - Are comin’ in to get us an’ he growls ’ist like he’s one, - An’ my! we’re turble scairt an’ yet it’s awful lots o’ fun. - - An’ ’en he is a pirate an’ he makes us chinnern play - At we are in a shipwreck an’ th’ crew is cast away - Upon a desert island w’ere his treasure chest is hid, - An’ we are only sailors an’ his name is Captain Kidd. - An’ w’en we hear him comin’ he ’ist roars an’ ’en we run, - ’Cuz he has broomsticks for a sword an’ pokers for a gun, - An’ after w’ile he kills us all but it don’t hurt, an’ w’en - He sails away in his big ship we come to life again. - - ’En after w’ile our Mother comes an’ taps him on th’ head, - An’ says it’s time for bears an’ scouts an’ things to be in bed, - An’ leads us chinnern all upstairs an’ maybe if we keep - Right still she’ll let th’ candle burn until we go to sleep. - ’En after w’ile our Uncle Bill comes up to say good-night, - An’ see how snug an’ warm we are an’ all tucked in so tight, - An’ ’en he kisses us good-night an’ ’en his eyes ’ist blur: - I guess we make him sorry ’at he is a bachelur! - - - - -HOW HENRY BLAKE KNOWS - - - Don’t you dast kill a toad, Henry Blake says, for true - As your’re born it’ll rain right away if you do. - For Henry Blake says oncet some boys ’at he knowed - Were goin’ a-fishin’ an’ one killed a toad, - An’ it all clouded up an’ it got just as black, - An’ it thundered an’ lightninged before they got back - Till they were awful scairt. He says he dunno why, - But he thinks toads has somethin’ t’ do with the sky. - An’ Henry Blake showed - Us th’ place in th’ road - Where the boys went an’ kilt him an’ that’s how he knowed. - - Henry Blake says if you just split a bean - An’ put half of it on a wart when it’s green, - An’ throw half of it between midnight an’ dawn - In a cistern somewhere, why, your wart’ll be gone - Just as soon as it rots. Henry Blake says it’s true - ’Cuz a friend of his showed him a bean cut in two - That took off a big wart, an’ th’ half was all black - An’ Henry Blake says that it never came back. - An’ Henry’s friend showed - Him th’ cistern he throwed - The other half into an’ that’s how he knowed! - - - - -THE LAND OF BLOW BUBBLES - - - His curls are like rings of red gold on his head, - His lips are as red as a cherry, - His cheeks are as round as an apple, and red, - His eyes full of mischief and merry. - His heart is as pure as a snowflake in air, - A fig for the whole of his troubles! - For he’s my Boy Careless--you’ve seen him somewhere, - And he lives in the land of Blow Bubbles! - - Now he’s riding a stick that is legless and dead, - Through the lanes and across the sere stubbles, - For a stick is a horse with four legs and a head - In that magic boy land of Blow Bubbles! - He bears at his side a sword cut from a lath, - With a big wooden gun on his shoulder, - And woe to the wild beast that crosses his path - For never a huntsman was bolder. - - Now down from his steed leaps Boy Careless in haste, - He drops on one knee in the stubbles, - For stubbles are woods full of wild beasts, all chased - To their death by the boys in Blow Bubbles! - His musket he brings to his shoulder and shoots, - The sound of it echoes and doubles, - For a make-believe gun kills the make-believe brutes - In that magic boy land of Blow Bubbles. - - Then out from the forest a savage all red - With blood-curdling yell leaps to battle, - A thrust from the big wooden sword--he is dead - With a most melancholy death-rattle. - Then up from the ground lifts Boy Careless his horse, - And back o’er the all-trackless stubbles, - For it’s many a mile to his cabin, of course, - In the magic boy land of Blow Bubbles. - - Oh, joy to the lad in his make-believe ride - With the make-believe gun on his shoulder, - With the make-believe sword cut from lath at his side, - And a sigh from the heart that is older! - A whistle for Care from the harp of his lips, - A fig for the whole of his troubles, - When he’s off like the wind on his make-believe trips - In the magic boy land of Blow Bubbles! - - - - -THE GINGERCAKE MAN - - - The Gingercake man was a lump of brown dough - Till a great rolling pin was run over him, so! - To flatten him out, and he lay there so thin, - His bones almost popped through the holes in his skin; - They sifted him over with flour and spice, - And made him some eyes with two kernels of rice, - And took some dried currants, the biggest and best, - To make him some buttons for closing his vest. - - The Gingercake man wabbled this way and that, - When they seeded a raisin and made him a hat - That was stuck on his head in the jauntiest way, - For a Gingercake man is not made every day. - They stuck in some cloves for his ears; yes, indeed! - And made him some teeth out of caraway seed, - And when he was finished they buttered a pan-- - The biggest they had--for the Gingercake man. - - Then into the oven they put him to bake - Until he was hard and could stand and not break - His legs when he stood; and they set him to cool - Until all the children should come home from school. - And oh, the delight and the wonder and glee, - When mother invited the children to see, - -[Illustration: THE GINGERCAKE MAN] - - All sifted with sugar and out of the pan, - The good-natured face of the Gingercake man. - - But alas and alas! ’Tis a short life and sweet - Is the Gingercake man’s--for they ate off his feet, - They broke off his arms with the hungriest zest, - And picked all the buttons from out of his vest; - They nibbled his legs off and ate up his hat, - And everything edible went just like that, - Till the cloves and the kernels of rice you may scan - As all that is left of the Gingercake man! - - - - -LONESOME - - - Say, little boy, be friends with me and I’ll be friends with you; - And I won’t never tell on you, no matter what you do. - It’s awful lonesome over here and, goodness, but it’s hard - To have your mother say that you must play in your back yard. - There’s lots of daisies where I am, and butterflies as bright - As anything you ever saw, and I just saw one light; - Perhaps you’d catch it in your cap if I would help you to-- - Come over and be friends with me and I’ll be friends with you. - - I’m all the children we have got--I’m lonesome as can be, - I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to come and play with me. - I don’t care if your face ain’t clean or if your clothes are torn, - I didn’t have no clothes at all the time that I was born. - We got ripe apples on our trees and I will boost you so - That you can get some if you come, and when it’s time to go - We’ll fill your cap and pockets full to take home. Don’t you see - I’m willing to be friends with you if you’ll be friends with me? - - I’ve got a lot of wooden toys, as fine as they can be, - But I want something that’s alive to run around with me, - And play wild Indians and bears, and if you’ll come and play - Perhaps my Mamma ’ll let me come and play with you some day. - We’ve got some dandy hollow trees, the finest anywheres, - And one of us can hide in them when we are playing bears, - And growl just like he’s awful cross, and all the time you know - It’s only make-believe, of course, but then it scares you so. - - I wish you’d come and play with me. I’ve got a jumping-jack - I’ll give you for your very own to keep when you go back, - And you can ride my v’locipede most all the afternoon - And blow some bubbles with my pipe and play with my balloon. - I’ve got an awful lot of toys and I will let you play - That they are yours as much as mine for all the time you stay, - I’m all the boys my folks have got. I’m lonesome as can be, - Come on, and I’ll be friends with you if you’ll be friends with me. - - - - -THE GARDEN OF PLAY - - - Out in the Garden of Childhood gay - Romp three glad youngsters with merry cries, - Startling the birds with their boisterous play, - Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes. - Ever you see them and hear them there, - Morning or evening or blossomy noon, - And oh, but the Garden of Youth is fair, - And oh, but the years of it pass too soon! - - Over the Garden arch cloudless skies, - (Ah, but the skies of all Youth are blue!) - Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes - Find in each nook something rare and new. - Cool is the shade of the coaxing trees, - Bidding them hide from the sun at noon, - And oh, but what glorious days are these, - And oh, but the hours of them pass too soon! - - Rare is the Garden with fragrant flowers - (Ah, but the flowers of Youth are fair!) - Garlands they weave of the golden hours, - Sweet with the song of the birds in air. - Splashed all the earth with a rosy light, - Light of the sun at its splendid noon, - And oh, but the sunshine of Youth is bright, - And oh, but the light of it dies too soon! - - Sweet to mine ears from the Garden gay - Echo their calls and their merry cries, - Startling the birds with their boisterous play, - Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes. - Dips the red sun to its shadowed west, - These are the years of mine afternoon, - And oh, but the years of my youth were best, - And oh, but the joy of them passed too soon! - - - - -WE AIN’T SCARED O’ PA - - - Us boys ain’t scared o’ Pa so much, - He only makes a noise, - An’ says he never did see such - Onmanageable boys. - But when Ma looks around I see - Just somethin’ long an’ flat - An’ always make a point to be - Some better after that. - - Pa promises an’ promises, - But never does a thing; - But what Ma says she does she does, - An’ when I go to bring - Her slipper or her hair brush when - She says she’ll dust my pants, - I think I could be better then - If I had one more chance. - - Pa always says nex’ time ’at he - Will have a word to say, - But Ma she is more apt to be - A-doin’ right away; - Pa turns around at us an’ glares - As fierce as he can look, - But when we’re out o’ sight, upstairs, - He goes back to his book. - - Ma doesn’t glare as much as Pa - Or make as big a fuss, - But what she says is law is law, - And when she speaks to us - She’s lookin’ carelessly around - F’r somethin’ long an’ flat, - And when we notice it, we’re bound - To be good after that. - - So we ain’t scairt o’ Pa at all, - Although he thinks we are; - But when we hear Ma come an’ call, - No difference how far - We are away we answer quick, - An’ tell her where we’re at, - When she stoops down and starts to pick - Up somethin’ long an’ flat! - - - - -A PEARL OF PRICE - - - She isn’t worth a fortune and she hasn’t any stocks, - Her wealth is all in little shoes and pinafores and frocks. - In little rings of curling hair and big blue, laughing eyes, - In leaves and grass and buds and flowers and bees and butterflies. - But when she comes in tired from play and crawls upon my knee - She’s worth a hundred millions to her mother and to me. - - She sits among her dolls and toys and doesn’t seem to care - If wealth is all in rosy cheeks and locks of curly hair. - She toddles up to me and like an artful fairy clips - A coupon bearing love from off the sweetness of her lips. - And when she puts her arms around my neck and goos in glee, - She’s worth uncounted millions to her mother and to me. - - And when she’s in her crib at night and daintily tucked in, - The wealth of Croesus couldn’t buy the dimple in her chin, - And as she blinks her roguish eyes to play at peek-a-boo, - She chuckles me a fortune with each archly spoken goo. - And though she has no fortune, I am sure you will agree, - She’s a fortune, more than money, to her mother and to me. - - - - -DEAR LITTLE, QUEER LITTLE MAN - - - Dear little, queer little man, - With his hair all a tumble of curls, - With a light in his eyes - Like the blue of the skies - When the dawn’s rosy banner unfurls! - Sweet little, fleet little man, - Who fills all the house with his toys, - Whose laugh has the truth - Of the heart of his youth: - A toast to the health of our boys! - - Dear little, queer little man, - With a big, paper cap on his head, - And a sword at his side - As he gets up to ride - On his hobby-horse, gaudy and red! - Play, little, gay little man; - Fill all of the house with your noise, - For, oh, it were ill - If your laughter were still! - A toast to the laughter of boys! - - Dear little, queer little man, - With dreams of the future to be, - When he shall grow tall - And shall care for us all, - His mother, his sister and me! - Brave little, grave little man, - With thoughts, like his youth, incomplete, - But bearing the seed - That shall blossom and lead - To manhood all gracious and sweet. - - Dear little, queer little man, - Whose heart is so boyish and pure, - May the sweetness and truth - That are flowers of youth - Through all of your being endure! - Play, little, gay little man; - Fill all of the house with your noise, - For, oh, what so sweet - As the pattering feet - And the echoing laughter of boys? - - Dear little, queer little man, - The light of the dawn’s rosy beams - Be evermore spread - On your dear, curly head, - And truth to your innocent dreams! - Blest little, best little man, - God keep you as pure as the truth - That lingers and lies - In the light of your eyes: - Long life to the heart of your youth! - - - - -GIRL OF MINE - - - Oh, her frock is crisp and white, - And her hair is curled up tight - To her roguish little head, just like an aureole of light. - Not a heart but she could win - With the ribbon at her chin - And her cheeks that have such very little merry dimples in. - - Ah, the laughter in her eyes, - And the wonder and surprise - As she toddles through the waving grass in search of butterflies; - And the flowers nod and sway - In their love of her and say - By their homage as she passes she’s a fairer flower than they. - - Ah, the sweetness and the grace - In her radiant little face - As she scampers through the sunlight in her airy, fairy race; - How the roguish laughter trips - From the gateway of her lips - Like the lilting of the robin through the leafy bough that slips. - - And the birds in branches high - Seem to join her merry cry, - And to chirp a fearless greeting as she gaily toddles by; - And so light her footsteps fall - That the clover blossoms call: - “See! She stepped on us in passing but we’re scarcely bruised at all!” - - - - -CHUMS - - - He lives acrost the street from us - An’ ain’t as big as me; - His mother takes in washin’ ’cuz - They’re poor as they can be; - But every night he brings his slate - An’ ’en I do his sums, - An’ help him get his lessons straight, - ’Cuz him an’ me is chums. - - His clo’es ain’t _quite_ as good as mine, - But I don’t care for that; - His mother makes his face ’ist shine, - An’ I _lent_ him a hat. - An’ every mornin’, ’ist by rule, - W’en nine o’clock it comes, - He takes my hand an’ goes to school, - ’Cuz him an’ me is chums. - - Nobody better plague him, too, - No matter if he’s small, - ’Cuz I’m his friend, for tried and true, - An’ ’at’s th’ reason all - Th’ boys don’t dare to plague him, ’cuz - I ’ist wait till he comes, - An’ he walks close to me, he does, - ’Cuz him an’ me is chums. - - He fell an’ hurt hi’self one day - Th’ summer before last, - An’ ’at’s w’at makes him limp ’at way - An’ don’t grow very fast. - So w’en I get a piece of pie, - Or maybe nuts or plums, - I always give him some, ’cuz I - Get lots--an’ we are chums. - - An’ w’en it’s nuttin’ time, we go, - An’ I climb all th’ trees, - ’Cuz he can’t climb--he’s hurt, you know-- - But he gets all he sees - Come droppin’ down, an’ my! he’s glad; - An’ w’en th’ twilight comes - He says w’at a fine time he had, - ’Cuz him an’ me is chums. - - But my! his mother’s awful queer; - ’Cuz w’en we’re home again, - She wipes her eye--a great, big tear-- - An’ says: “God bless you, Ben! - Th’ Lord will bless you all your days - W’en th’ great Judgment comes.” - But I say I don’t need no praise, - ’Cuz him an’ me is chums. - - - - -THE LOST BOY - - - Little Boy Careless has strewn his blocks - From end to end of the nursery; - He has broken the top of the gaudy box - That held sliced animals--My, Ah Me! - His wooden soldiers are seamed and scarred - From battle with him, and his jumping-jack - Is lodged half-way from a blow too hard, - Nor all of my coaxing will get him back. - - Little Boy Careless has split his drum - And bent the tube of his screeching fife - Till all of its martial airs are dumb, - And the doll that squeaked has lost her life - From a mallet blow on her waxen head, - And none of her sister dolls knows or cares - How the sawdust in her is strewn and spread - From the bedroom door to the hall downstairs. - - Little Boy Careless has gone away - And Big Boy Hopeful has come to me, - The toys that were scattered here yesterday - Are stored up there in the nursery. - The broken drum and the jumping-jack, - The waxen doll in her crib alone, - Nor Little Boy Careless will e’er come back - To scatter the toys by his years outgrown. - - And ah, but the heart of me aches and cries - For the Little Boy Careless to come and play, - The light of the dawn in his big, brown eyes, - With the toys that are gathered and laid away. - The Big Boy Hopeful will come to pine - For the world out there and will yearn to go, - But the Little Boy Careless was mine, all mine, - And that is the reason I loved him so! - - - - -LINES TO A BABY GIRL - - - Oh, she has such a way with her! - I stay with her - And play with her, - Her cheeks are round and dimpled and - Her eyes are Heaven’s blue; - My life is spent quite half with her, - I laugh with her - And chaff with her, - Till she looks up with laughing eyes, - And all she says is “Goo!” - - Sometimes I try to walk with her, - I talk with her - And rock with her; - She knows some way my love for her - Is tender and is true. - And so I sit and speak with her - And seek with her - The cheek of her - To brush with little kisses and - Quite all she says is “Goo!” - - She toddles in to share with me - My chair with me; - Her air with me - Is that of queen imperious, - My heart her subject true. - Upon the floor she lies with me - And tries with me - To rise with me - When romping time is over, and - She looks up and says “Goo!” - - Oh, she is such a part of me, - The heart of me, - And art of me - Could not express my love for her, - So tender and so true; - She is the treasure blessed of me, - Heart’s guest of me, - The best of me, - This little baby girl of me - Who looks up and says “Goo!” - - - - -LITTLE MISCHEFUSS - - - Somebody went and broke my doll, an’ let her sawdust out - On Mamma’s floor an’ my! there’s sawdust scattered all about! - Dess scandalous! An’ bien by my Mamma’ll come an’ say: - “I see ’at Little Mischefuss has been around today!” - - An’ sometimes w’en th’ sugar bowl’s lef’ open, she says ’en: - “I dess ’at Little Mischefuss has been around again!” - An’ my! I’m awful much surprised! an’ ast how does she know, - But she dess says a little bird flew in an’ told her so! - - One time somebody went, she did, and broke my jumpin’-jack - An’ Mamma says: “I see ’at Little Mischefuss is back.” - An’ w’en somebody spilled p’eserves right on the pantry shelf - She says: “I see ’at Mischefuss has tried to he’p herself!” - - One day somebody tored my dress an’ en she says: “I see - At Little Mischefuss is dess as busy as can be!” - An’ my! I’m awful much surprised an’ ast how does she know, - But she dess says a little bird flew in an’ told her so! - - Somebody frowed my blocks out doors an’ ’en ’ey dot all wet - An’ all peeled off tuz why it rained an’ Mamma says she bet - ’At Little Mischefuss is back from Topsyturvytown - An’ mus’ be hidin’ in th’ house or else somew’eres aroun’. - - Oncet Mamma’s goin’ t’ spank her w’en she catches her, an’ so - I ast her not to tuz she’s dess a little girl, you know, - An’ don’t know any better ’an t’ plague an’ pester us, - Till she dess laughs, tuz why she says _I’m_ Little Mischefuss! - - - - -THE TRAVELS OF MORTIMER BROWN - - - This is the story of Mortimer Brown - Who went for his mother some errands in town, - Who was told he must come back as quick as he could - And as earnestly promised his mother he would. - He went down the front steps full three at a time - And swung on the gate, for the swinging was prime. - - He teetered on all the loose boards in the walk - And met Jimmy Brady and sat down to talk; - He climbed up the trunk of a big tree that stands - Not so far from his home, and he swung with both hands. - He passed the cow pasture and stopped for a stroll, - Climbed the fence and turned twice on the very top pole. - - Then he turned a few handsprings all through the long grass - And sat on the fence to watch Peter Bates pass - With a big flock of sheep, and he got himself chased - By the biggest black ram and he fell in his haste - Down the bank of the brook and he sat there about - Half an hour in the sun till his clothes were dried out. - He laid off his coat since the day was so hot - And chose a bypath through the strawberry plot; - He gathered some berries to eat on his way - Till alarmed by the watch-dog’s deep, ominous bay. - Then he followed a rabbit as far as he could - Until it was lost in the depth of a wood, - And marked a bee tree so to find it again - When he and Jim Brady should visit Beech Glen. - So tired then he was that he sat down to rest - And he fell sound asleep with his coat and his vest - - Spread under his head, when the rumble of wheels - On the road waked him up and he saw Elmer Beals - Driving by in the lane and he climbed up beside - On a big load of squashes and had a fine ride, - And helped lead the horses to water as soon - As they both reached the town in the late afternoon. - And then, oh, alas! The long list Mother wrote - Of the things he should get had dropped out of his coat, - - So he bought some stick candy and cookies--he knew - Of the things she would need they must surely be two, - And munching them sadly the whole of the way - Back homeward he wondered what Mother would say. - I wonder if ever in country or town - You have known such a lad as this Mortimer Brown? - - - - -ADVENTURERS THREE - - - I know a little sailor who has never been to sea, - But walks the deck of our back porch as bold as he can be. - He never shows a sign of fear when in the stoutest gale, - Nor ever lost a ship, although he never reefed a sail. - I’ve heard him send his crew aloft when fearful tempests blew, - But though I’ve searched the rigging oft, I never saw the crew. - I’m sure he is a sailor, for his mother showed to me - His clothes, such as the sailors wear when they go forth to sea. - - I know a little hunter who has never fired a gun, - But roams about our orchard with a painted wooden one; - A hunter of such prowess that he hasn’t left a bear, - A tiger or an animal of that description there. - I know he used to see them, for I’ve seen him creep and crawl, - And finally destroy one that I never saw at all. - I’m sure he was a hunter, for I saw his buckskins spread - Just as a plainsman leaves them--on the foot-board of his bed. - - I know a little soldier who has never been to war, - But wears a splendid uniform, all buttoned down before. - I’ve seen him drill in our back yard a dozen times a day, - I’ve seen him march and counter in a military way. - I’ve heard him shout commands with all a captain’s dignity, - But though I’ve searched the lawn, I never saw his company. - I’m sure he was a soldier, for I saw the clothes he wore - Last night beside his bed, when he had finished with the war. - - Sometimes he gets a wetting when the seas are very high, - And has to have his sailor clothes hung on the line to dry, - So he becomes a soldier and upon a march he goes, - And what he is this moment quite depends upon his clothes. - He never shoots a lion when he wears a sailor suit, - Or walks the deck in buckskins, which he only wears to shoot, - And never thinks of drilling or of marching off to war - Unless he wears his uniform with buttons down before. - - - - -WHEN THEY LOVE YOU SO - - - One time I’m awful sick in bed, - An’ sometimes I’m delirious, - ’Cuz I got fever in my head, - An’ when I’m th’ most serious - My Pa, he sits beside of me - An’ ’en he rubs my head, an’ ’en - He says when I get well, why, he - Won’t ever scold his boy again. - - An’ ’en my Ma, she rubs my head - ’Ist burnin’ hot, an’ ’en her chin - ’Ist shivers an’ she says: “Poor Ned! - His little hands so white an’ thin!” - An’ ’en she says she never knew - How precious ’ist a boy could be, - An’ when I’m well she’s goin’ t’ do - ’Ist what I want her to for me. - - An’ by and by my Aunty comes - An’ says when I get well why she - Don’t care if I have twenty drums, - An’ she will buy a sled for me. - An’ my big sister’s goin’ t’ buy - A really pony ’ist as quick - As ever doctor says ’at I - Am well again from bein’ sick. - - An’ even our old hired man - Comes in an’ stays a while with me, - Whenever doctor says he can, - ’Ist kind an’ gentle as can be, - ’Cuz once he had a boy, an’ ’en - He had th’ fever an’ ’at’s why - He’s awful kind to me an’ when - He sees me, why he starts t’ cry. - - An’ even teacher comes to see - Me on her way from school, an’ ’en - She says it won’t be hard for me - When I come back to school again. - ’Cuz she won’t make my lessons long, - Or keep me after school; an’ she - ’Ist wants me to get well an’ strong - An’ ’en she stoops an’ kisses me. - - An’ ’at’s th’ way you really know - How much they love you, when your head - ’Ist burnin’ up an’ you can’t go - Nowheres except to stay in bed. - An’ even if you’re awful bad - An’ hot with fever, why, you know, - It makes you feel ’ist sweet an’ glad - Becuz they all ’ist love you so. - - - - -SOMEBODY DID - - - Somebody stood up right on top of a chair - An’ reached in the cooky-jar, way, way up there, - W’en nobody’s lookin’ an’ Mamma’s asleep, - An’ all of us chinnern wuz playin’ Bo-peep - Now’eres near the pantry; an’ tryin’ to get - Some cookies, an’ someway the jar got upset, - An’ my! it ’ist busted all over the floor. - But John, he ain’t scairt; an’ he rapped on the door, - W’ile all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid, - An’ ’en he says: “Ma, see w’at Somebody did!” - - An’ all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid, - ’Cuz we don’t know who done it--but Somebody did! - - Somebody crawled up in the big leather chair - By the lib’ary table w’at stood over there - W’en we wuz a-playin’ now’eres near the ink - An’ Mamma was sewin’--an’ w’at do you think? - Somebody upset it and knocked it, ’ist Chug! - Right off’n the table an’ down on the rug, - An’ my! it ’ist busted an’ runned everyw’eres. - But John, he ain’t scairt; an’ he runned right upstairs, - W’ile all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid, - An’ ’en he says: “Ma, see w’at Somebody did!” - - An’ all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid, - ’Cuz we don’t know who done it--but Somebody did! - - An’ wunst w’en the kitchen wuz all scrubbed so clean, - The floor wuz ’ist shiny as ever you seen, - An’ we wuz all playin’ outdoors in the street, - Somebody went in with the muddies’ feet - An’ tracked it all over the floor, ’ist a sight; - An’ my! when we seen it we ’ist shook with fright, - ’Cuz none of us chinnern went near it all day. - But John, he ain’t scairt; an’ he went right away, - W’ile all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid, - An’ ’en he says: “Ma, see w’at Somebody did!” - - An’ all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid, - ’Cuz we don’t know who done it--but Somebody did! - - - - -THE WADERS - - - The queerest things rained down all over our street, - With long legs, like spiders, and muddy brown feet; - They must have rained down, for I saw them all run - Through puddles and mud ere the shower was done. - They’re some sort of Waders, and all over town - Through pools and deep gutters they splash up and down, - Bareheaded, barelegged, barefooted and wet, - The Waders of Frogpond--I hear them splash yet. - - The rain fell in torrents, the gutters’ deep tides - Were black, and the rain barrels ran o’er their sides, - The frothy white waters whirled from the eavespout, - But with the first lull all the Waders came out. - They danced in the frogponds, they sounded the streams - In gutters and made the air shrill with their screams, - They rolled up their dresses and trousers and dashed - Through mud, froth and water, and waded and splashed. - - And forth with the Waders came all kinds of dogs, - Came sailors with bark boats, came navies of frogs. - Came big rubber boots on such tiny brown legs, - Came floating armadas of cans and half-kegs; - Came long poles for sounding, came all sorts of crafts, - Unseaworthy boxes made over to rafts, - I wonder if ever in my life again - I’ll see so much gladness come down with the rain. - - They must have rained down, for a minute ago - The frogpond was dry and deserted, you know; - There wasn’t a Wader, a dog or a craft, - A pair of gum boots, a bark boat or a raft; - The eave’s but done dripping, scarce dry is the spout, - When lo, all the navy of Waders is out! - The pond’s full of ships as the old Spanish Main. - Who’d think so much fun could come down with the rain? - -[Illustration: THE WADERS] - - - - -THEN THE PRISONED PUPIL - - - She kept him aftur skool when awl the burds - Were singen swetely in the woods an wurds - Kood not deskribe his sufferens. the air - Was full uv blossums an the urth was fare - Ecksept to himm. becaws he did not no - His jogafy she wood not let him go - An when he hurd us cloas the dore the teers - Rolld down his cheeks an he livd menny yeers - In just a singul owr. it was like sum - Old torchure ur sum krewel marturdum. - - How kood he study when he noo that we - Were goen gayly homewurd glad an free - Wile he was kept a prizzuner becaws - He did not no ware venna zweela was. - An when he thot uv how weere ap too go - In swimmen aftur skool his greef an wo - Was almoast moar than he kood bare an yet - She sturnly kept him thare an wood not let - Him leev his seet altho he felt he must - An so she bowd his spearut in the dust. - - An aftur wile when its too late to play - She lookt at him in sutch a skornful way - Az tho he was a krimminle an sed - He mite go home. his proud and hotty hed - Was bent with greef and he went slowly owt - The skoolroom dore and then lookt awl abowt - Az tho releest from prizzen an the brand - Uv sin on him was moar than he kood stand. - An he went sloly homewurd bowd with shaim - O liburtey the krimes dun in thi naim. - - - - -A PRAYER FOR JIMMY BANKS - - - Dear Lord, excuse Jim Banks and me - For hitting Aunty Griggs when we - Threw snowballs at the cat, because - We did not know where Aunty was! - - Jim Banks and me are sorry, Lord, - For, drawing Teacher on the board, - And after what we got, we do - Not need more punishment from you! - - Excuse Jim Banks especially, - Because his mother’s dead and he - Just heard of you the other day - And is too bashful yet to pray! - - But you would like him if you knew - Jim Banks as well as we all do. - And if you have some clothes to spare - Remember him, for he’s quite bare! - - He says old shoes will help him some, - And some worn pants; and he will come - Most any night, but where he stays - He earns his keep by working days! - - And if there is an angel there - Who might like him and you can spare, - Would you mind telling this to him - And see what he can do for Jim? - - And Jimmy’s hat is straw and old, - You know the weather’s pretty cold, - And Jimmy’s ears stick out into - The weather, and his nose gets blue! - - Dear Lord, please do the very best - You can for him! I’ve got a vest - And sweater on the closet shelf - That I am going to give myself! - - And beg your pardon, Lord, and pray - My soul to keep; and Jimmy may - Be President some day, and then - We’ll all be proud of him. Amen! - -[Illustration: A PRAYER FOR JIMMY BANKS] - - - - -A CHILD’S CHRISTMAS PRAYER - - - Dear Lord, be good to Santa Claus, - He’s been so good to me; - I never told him so because - He is so hard to see. - He must love little children so - To come through snow and storm; - Please care for him when cold winds blow - And keep him nice and warm. - - Dear Lord, be good to him and good - To Mary Christmas, too. - I’d like to tell them, if I could, - The things I’m telling you. - They’ve both been very good to me, - And everywhere they go - They make us glad;--no wonder we - All learn to love them so. - - Please have him button up his coat - So it will keep him warm; - And wear a scarf about his throat - If it should start to storm. - And when the night is dark, please lend - Him light if stars are dim, - Or maybe sometimes you could send - An Angel down with him. - - Please keep his heart so good and kind - That he will always smile; - And tell him maybe we will find - And thank him after while. - Please keep him safe from harm and keep - Quite near and guard him when - He’s tired and lays him down to sleep. - Dear Lord, please do! Amen. - - - - -HENRY BLAKE’S CHUM - - - Henry Blake’s chum he had awful red hair, - And most of his clothes were too small; - And often and often he wore his feet bare - Until it was late in the fall. - But he would just whistle as though he had shoes, - Was never discouraged or glum; - And most any boy would be sorry to lose - A fellow like Henry Blake’s chum. - - Henry Blake’s chum, he knew all about trees, - And woodticks and crickets and birds, - And all of the things that a boy really sees - But can’t always tell them in words; - And he knew where fish were the most apt to bite, - And when the first blackberries come, - And how to catch birds in a trap when they light-- - No wonder he’s good for a chum. - - Henry Blake’s chum, he had rabbits for pets, - And crows that he taught how to speak, - And dogs that will haul you, and he often gets - A new dog or two every week. - And often he crawls up and catches a frog - Between his first finger and thumb, - Where it may be sitting alone on a log; - And my! Henry’s proud of his chum! - - Henry Blake’s chum, he knew all about flowers - And always could tell you their name, - And didn’t mind thunder or lightning or showers - Because he said it’s all the same - So long as you’re barefoot and haven’t much clothes. - And he knew how partridges drum, - And whistled just like a Bob White’s whistle goes-- - No wonder he’s somebody’s chum. - - Henry Blake’s chum, he came up from the farm, - And my! he was awful ashamed - In school not to know the big bone in your arm - Or what the equator was named. - But when it came recess we all stood about - And waited until he would come, - And he told us things we had never found out-- - And my! Henry’s proud of his chum! - - - - -ONCE UPON A TIME - - - Once upon a time rare flowers grew - On every shrub and bush we used to see; - The skies above our heads were always blue, - The woods held secrets deep for you and me; - The hillsides had their caves where tales were told - Of swart-cheeked pirates from a far-off clime, - When cutlases were fierce and rovers bold-- - Don’t you remember?--Once upon a time. - - Once upon a time from sun to sun - The hours were full of joy--there was no care, - And webs of gaudy dreams in air were spun - Of deeds heroic and of fortunes fair; - The jangling schoolhouse bell was all the woe - Our spirits knew, and in its tuneless chime - Was all the sorrow of the long ago-- - Don’t you remember?--Once upon a time. - - Once upon a time the witches rode - In sinister and ominous parade - Upon their sticks at night, and queer lights glowed - With eery noises by the goblins made; - And many things mysterious there were - For boyish cheeks to pale at through the grime - That held them brown; and shadows queer would stir-- - Don’t you remember?--Once upon a time. - - Once upon a time our faith was vast - To compass all the things on sea and land - That boys have trembled o’er for ages past, - Nor ever could explain or understand, - And in that faith found happiness too deep - For all the gifted tongues of prose or rime, - And joys ineffable we could not keep-- - Don’t you remember?--Once upon a time. - -[Illustration: ONCE UPON A TIME] - - - - -THE WAY TO SCHOOL - - - Five minutes chasing butterflies - Way over, off the road; - Five minutes watching Willie Price - Do tricks with his pet toad; - Five minutes helping Gibbsie get - His pig back in the pen-- - I wonder if it’s school-time yet? - I guess I’m late again. - - I think I lost a little time - Because I walked so slow - Where Johnny Watkins lost a dime - A day or two ago. - It’s underneath the leaves somewhere, - And Johnny feels so blue - That I just stopped a minute there - Because he asked me to. - - And then it rained a little bit, - And Dominick McPhee - Had his straw hat and had to sit - Under a good thick tree, - Or else he’d get it spoiled and get - The top all swelled. You see, - A straw hat is not safe to wet-- - His kind, especially. - - And after we had saved his hat - From getting spoiled for him, - A big woodpecker came and sat - Upon a rotten limb; - And Johnny said when they’re about, - Somebody told the boys, - You see a lot of worms come out - To see what makes the noise. - - So then we boys all stayed about - A couple minutes more, - In hopes to see the worms come out - Which he was rapping for; - But after he went b-r-r-r! and b-r-r-r! - A while, he flew away, - And Johnny said he guessed there were - No worms at home that day. - - So then we hurried up, and ran - As fast as we could run, - To get there just as school began. - And just when it’s begun - I had to run back to the tree - To get my slate and rule; - And yet the teacher cannot see - Why boys are late for school. - - - - -A PRESENT FOR LITTLE BOY BLUE - - - Our Neighbor, he calls me his Little Boy Blue - Whenever he goes by our yard; - And he says, “Good-morning” or “How-do-you-do?” - But sometimes he winks awful hard. - I guess he don’t know what my name really is, - Or else he forgot, if he knew; - And my! You would think I am really part his-- - He calls me _his_ Little Boy Blue! - - Our Neighbor, he told me that Little Boy Blue - Once stood all his toys in a row, - And said, “Now, don’t go till I come back for you”-- - But that was a long time ago. - And one time, at Christmas, when I had a tree, - He brought me a sled, all brand-new, - And smiled when he said it was partly for me - And partly for Little Boy Blue. - - Our Neighbor, he’s not going to have any tree, - So he says the best he can do - Is try to get something to partly give me - And partly give Little Boy Blue, - Because, if he’s here, it would make him so glad, - And he said he knew it was true - That ever and ever so many folks had - A boy just like Little Boy Blue. - - Our Neighbor, he calls me his Little Boy Blue, - And said he would like to help trim - Our tree when it came--he would feel that he knew - It was partly for me and for him. - He said he would fix it with lights and wax flowers, - With popcorn and berries--you see, - He’d like to come over and help to trim ours-- - He’s not going to have any tree! - - - - -THE EVOLUTION OF AN ADOPTION - - - He’s ’ist a little orfant boy - W’at goes to school with me; - An’ ain’t got any parents ’cuz - His folks is dead, you see. - An’ w’en he sees my toys an’ things-- - My, but his eyes ’ist shine; - An’ he ain’t got no marbles, so - I give him half of mine. - - An’ once it’s orful stormy w’en - It’s noon an’ he can’t go - Back where he works for board an’ clo’es - To get his lunch, an’ so - I had some san’wiches an’ things - ’At he thought was ’ist fine, - An’ ’cuz he didn’t have no lunch - I give him half of mine. - - An’ once w’en we went down to fish - He come along with me, - An’ w’en we’re there says he ’ist wish - ’At he could fish. You see - He’s orful poor an’ brought a pole - But didn’t have a line, - An’ w’en I saw how bad he felt - I give him half of mine. - - An’ one time I ’ist told my Ma - How he don’t have much fun - ’Cuz he ain’t got no Ma or Pa - Or Aunt or any one. - An’ ’en I told her how I thought - ’At it would be ’ist fine - ’Cuz he ain’t got no mother if - I’d give him half of mine. - - He ain’t my brother, really true, - He’s ’ist an orfant, so - My Ma she took him, ’cuz she knew - He had no place to go. - I’m awful glad we got him an’ - My Pa thinks it ’ist fine-- - He didn’t have no mother, so - I give him half of mine. - - - - -SOME GIRLS THAT MAMMA KNEW - - - My Mamma says ’at once ’ere was - A little girl she knew - Who went an’ cried, an’ ’ist because-- - Because she wanted to; - An’ w’ile her face was all askew - The wind changed, so they say, - An’ Mamma told me ’at it’s true, - Her face ’ist staid ’at way! - An’ w’en she told me ’at, w’y nen - I said I’ll never cry again. - - My Mamma said ’at once she heard - A little girl like me - Tell ’ist one fib, an’ says, my word! - Her Mamma looked to see - W’ere was her tongue, an’ goodness me! - Her mouth was ’ist all bare, - An’ w’ere her tongue ’ud ought to be - There wasn’t any there! - An’ w’en she told me ’at, w’y nen - I said I’ll never fib again! - - My Mamma knew a little girl - ’At used to run away - W’en her dear mother ’d start to curl - Her hair; an’ one fine day - Some gypsies took her off, somehow, - An’ stole her from her home, - An’ my! Her hair is awful now, - ’Cause gypsies never comb! - An’ since she told me ’at, w’y nen - I never runned away again! - - An’ never don’t make fun, she says, - Of folks ’at’s blind or lame, - Or got red hair or warts, unless - You want to be the same. - ’Cause lots of times it happens so, - An’ surely if you do, - You never, never, never know - What’s going to happen you. - An’ since she told me ’at, w’y nen - I never don’t make fun again. - - - - -GONE - - - He fell in a puddle and muddied his dress, - He struck little Bob with a hammer, I guess; - He cut sister’s curls with a big pair of shears - And left ragged edges down over her ears; - He muddied the floor that was just scrubbed so clean, - He lighted a match near the canned gasoline, - He broke all his soldiers and smashed all his toys, - And yet we forgave him, for boys will be boys. - - He singed the cat’s whiskers and cut off its tail - And then turned it loose with its discordant wail; - He dropped bread and jelly upon a big chair - And thought of it only when Aunty sat there; - He sheared the pet poodle one midwinter day, - His father is frantic, his mother is gray, - His Aunt and his Grandma protest at his noise, - And then all forgive him, for boys will be boys. - - He clamors for cookies, for jelly and jam, - He shuts ne’er a door, but he gives it a slam, - He dabbles in paint, be it red, blue or green, - He loves to play hob with the sewing machine; - And then--well, he’s gone into trousers and vests, - For years must be passing and time never rests, - And some day we look at a picture--and then - We wish--strange it is--that we had him again. - - - - -THE NEIGHBOR’S BOYS - - - Somebody shot our cat’s eye out, - An’ stole our gate an’ just about - Scared Aunt Sophia Jane to death - So’s she could hardly get her breath, - By puttin’ on some sheets, all white, - ’At just gave her a turble fright, - An’ who on earth do you suppose - Put on them big, white ghostes’ clothes - An’ made that turble screechy noise?-- - The neighbor’s boys! - - An’ every night it’s dark, you know, - Somebody plays some tick-tack-toe - On folkeses’ windows what’s a-scared, - An’ just as if they never cared - If they get caught or not, an’ when - You’re gone to bed they come again - Until you’re just so nervous you - Don’t hardly know just what to do; - An’ who makes such a scary noise? - The neighbor’s boys. - - An’ ’en somebody tears your clothes - An’ skins your face an’ hurts your nose - Until it bleeds, an’ then your Ma - Says ’at she never, never saw - -[Illustration: THE NEIGHBOR’S BOYS] - - Such heathen youngsters, an’ they come - An’ break your sled an’ pound your drum - Until it busts, an’ wont go ’way, - It ain’t no matter what you say, - An’ they’re the ones ’at break your toys-- - The neighbor’s boys. - - An’ my, it’s funny, ’cause, you know - You ain’t the only ones ’at’s so. - ’Cause all the next door neighbors say - It seems e’zactly the same way, - An’ when their boys gets hurted so’s - It gives ’em turble bloody nose, - An’ some one shoots their cat’s eye out, - An’ plays tick-tack, they know about - Who does it an’ who makes the noise-- - The neighbor’s boys! - - - - -A QUIET AFTERNOON - - - My Mamma, she did go to call about an hour ago, - An’ said if I ain’t bad at all an’ stayed at home with Flo, - Which is the maid that cooks for us, she’d bring me something good, - But if I’m one bit misschefuss she didn’t think she would. - - An’ my! I’m still, ’ist like a mouse. I never went outdoors, - But ’ist sat down, inside the house, an’ took her bureau drawers - An’ emptied ’em ’ist one by one, an’ w’en they’re emptied ’en - I ’ist looked through what’s there for fun an’ put ’em back again! - - An’ ’en I found the nicest ink, an’ one of ’em was red, - An’ one was black an’ ’en I think I spilt some on the bed, - But my! I wiped it up, ’ist so, an’ sopped it with a quilt - So clean you wouldn’t hardly know it’s ever once been spilt. - - Well, ’en I looked up on the shelf an’ found her scissors there - An’ got ’em down all by myself an’ cut off all my hair, - ’Tuz I don’t think it’s nice for girls like me ’at’s almost through - First reader to wear such a curls like Mamma makes me do. - - ’En Flo gave me some bread and jam, ’tuz I ’ist cried and cried - ’Ist tuz I’m hungry now, I am, an’ ’en I went inside, - An’ maybe I did let it lay around the room somewhere, - ’Tuz Flo came in to watch me play and squoshed it on a chair. - - An’ after while I wish my Ma would ’ist come back, she would, - ’Tuz my, I’m gettin’ drefful tired of simply bein’ good. - My eyes, ’ey’re ’ist so full of sand an’ heavy, ’ist like lead, - Oh-oh! I dess it’s Sleepyland! I dess I’ll go to bed! - - - - -THE OWNERLESS TOYS - - - Our Uncle Bill’s attic is half full of toys, - With some that are almost brand-new; - He’s got things up there for most all kinds of boys - From ten years old clear down to two. - And one day he gave me some books from up there - Like boys had a long time ago; - And I asked if the boy they belong to would care, - But he just sort of smiled and said no. - - Sometimes we would go in his attic to play - And find such a lot of fine things, - A whole lot of picture books all piled away - And tops that were wound up with strings. - And Uncle Bill told us to use what was there - Just as if it was ours, and we’d go, - But we’d ask if the boy they belong to would care, - And he just sort of smiled and said no. - - And my! There were sleds with their runners all rust, - And five or six good pairs of skates, - Some old-fashioned toys that were covered with dust, - And fishlines and schoolbooks and slates, - Which Uncle Bill told us we fellows might share, - But always put back when we go; - And we thought that the boy they belong to might care, - But he just sort of smiled and said no. - - And the boy they belong to, I guess, was away. - At least, we all thought he must be; - For all through the house they could hear us at play, - But he never came up there to see. - And we would pile everything back up with care - And ask Uncle Bill when we’d go - If the boy they belong to would know we’d been there, - But he just sort of smiled and said no. - - Our Uncle Bill’s attic is half full of toys, - Some old ones and some almost new; - He’s got things up there for most all kinds of boys - From ten years old clear down to two. - And often when we boys go up there to play - We ask Uncle Bill when we go - If the boy they belong to will be back that day, - And he smiles sort of sad and says no. - - - - -THE STRANGER - - - Serious-minded little maid, - Wondering and half afraid, - Half inclined to speak with me, - Half disposed to let me be; - Hesitating yet, and shy, - Half a twinkle in your eye, - Half in doubt and half in fear, - Staying neither far nor near. - - How I wonder what you see - With those eyes that question me; - What the instinct bids you know - If I may be friend or foe; - Fawnlike, full of grace and sweet, - Ready with fast-flying feet - In the orchard’s deepest shade - To find cover, little maid. - - Grave and curious little lass, - Like a wild bird in the grass, - Still intently watching me, - With your wings half spread, to see - If my smile bodes good or ill, - Willing to make friends and still - Undecided if to stay - Here and near or fly away. - - Serious-minded little maid, - When, with smiles and unafraid, - O’er the lawn you come to me, - Stranger to you though I be, - When your curious eyes have tried - Soul with mine and, satisfied, - Looked still into mine and smiled, - Blessed am I, little child. - - Blessed am I to be just - Worthy of your childish trust, - More than conqueror of kings - When the wild bird of your wings - Bids you fly not forth but see - Something tender, kind, in me; - Oh, the gladness you have laid - At my heart’s gate, little maid! - - - - -IN VACATION TIME - - - There’s a hole in his hat with the hair sticking through, - And a toe that peeps out from a hole in his shoe; - There’s a patch in his trousers, a darn in his hose, - And a freckle that tilts on the bridge of his nose; - But oh, in his heart there’s the glimmer and shine - Of a sun that I wish could be shining in mine. - - There’s a smudge on his face that is dusty and dark, - But a song in his heart like the song of a lark; - There’s a rent in his coat where the lining shows through, - But the whistle he tunes to the wild bird is true; - And, oh, in his heart, with a sparkle like wine, - Is a gladness I wish could be sparkling in mine. - - There’s an imp in his hair that may keep it awry, - But a twinkle so rare in the blue of his eye; - There’s an uneven slant of his trousers, made fast - With a nail through their tops, for a button won’t last; - But deep in his heart lies a spring cool and fine - Of good cheer that I wish could be bubbling in mine. - - There’s a tan on his cheek where the flush of health glows, - And the skin has all peeled from the tip of his nose; - His pockets are bulged with tops, marbles and strings, - With jack-knives and other uncountable things; - But the brooks and the woods bring a music divine - To his ears that I wish they were bringing to mine. - - - - -BEREAVED - - - Guess he must be awful old; we had him years and years, - And he’s so old the ends were worn all off of both his ears. - He couldn’t hardly eat, because his teeth were all worn out, - And all his legs got stiff, so he could hardly drag about. - One day he lay down by the house, right near the cellar door, - And gasped and gasped for breath, until he couldn’t any more; - So I went out and patted him, and when he heard me call - He looked at me and wagged his tail, which died the last of all. - - My! he was black and curly once, when he was new and young, - And he would open up his mouth at us and curl his tongue, - Just like he laughed, and play with us; and he would go into - The creek, and bring our hats to us, or anything we threw. - In winter we would hitch him up, and he would haul our sled, - And walk or trot or run with it, or anything we said; - So when he wagged his tail at me I laid him right beside - The cellar door, and then I went behind the barn and cried. - - He was a friend of all the boys, and when they came to play - He’d wag his tail and bark and look at them the smartest way; - And he’d pretend to bite at them and nip their pants, but he - Would never bite, ’cause he was just as kind as he could be. - And Henry Watson looked at him beside the cellar door, - And said, “He’ll never haul us boys on our sled any more.” - He turned his ears back straight and nice; he liked him awful well; - Because he had tears in his eyes, and then a big one fell. - - So after while we got a spade, and Billy Gibson came, - And Tommy Dean and Eddie Brink, and they all felt the same. - We dug some turf up in the yard, right underneath a tree, - And laid him in and left him there, all covered carefully; - It was an awful solemn day for all of us, for though - He’d got worn out and couldn’t eat, we boys all liked him so; - And Eddie Brink, he didn’t think the Lord would really care - If we boys sang a hymn for him and said a little prayer. - - My! it was awful sad that day! And Tommy said he thought - We wouldn’t play that afternoon, because he’d rather not. - And Mamma made some nice ice-cream, which cheered us up, but when - We wanted her to eat she said she couldn’t eat just then. - And Amy Robbins heard of it, and brought some leaves and flowers - To scatter over him, because he was a friend of ours; - And I told her I patted him, and when he heard me call - He looked at me and wagged his tail, which died the last of all. - - - - -TWO LITTLE MAIDS - - - Little Miss Nothing-to-do - Is fretful and cross and so blue, - And the light in her eyes - Is all dim when she cries - And her friends, they are few, Oh, so few! - Her dolls, they are nothing but sawdust and clothes, - Whenever she wants to go skating it snows, - And everything’s criss-cross, the world is askew! - I wouldn’t be Little Miss Nothing-to-do - Now, true, - I wouldn’t be Little Miss Nothing-to-do - Would you? - - Little Miss Busy-all-day - Is cheerful and happy and gay - And she isn’t a shirk - For she smiles at her work - And she romps when it comes time for play. - Her dolls, they are princesses, blue-eyed and fair, - She makes them a throne from a rickety chair, - And everything happens the jolliest way, - I’d rather be Little Miss Busy-all-day, - Hurray, - I’d rather be Little Miss Busy-all-day, - I say. - - - - -A NEW CHRISTMAS CAROL - - - Come, children, I’ll tell you a wonderful tale, - I learned it one night in a dream; - The snow lay all white and the full moon shone pale, - The housetops about were agleam; - I’d fallen asleep in my big easy chair, - I heard a gruff voice in my ear, - I knew that Saint Nicholas surely was there - And listened to see what I’d hear. - - “Come, follow with me,” were the first words he said, - “I’m off for my Palace of Snow; - I’ve emptied my pack of each doll, toy and sled, - It’s time for old Santa to go. - But, Oh, I’ve a treat waiting for me tonight, - I’ve planned it for years in my mind; - Come, follow with me, while the moon is still bright”-- - I rose and we sped like the wind. - - We flew like a flash to the Palace of Snow, - By hilltop and valley and plain, - Nor ever I will be permitted, I know, - To make such a journey again; - And there in the warmest and cosiest nook - He bade me sit down while he dressed - In robes of rich scarlet and said to me: “Look! - Here come the Child Hosts of the Blest.” - - A flash of his eye and my wonderment grew, - A word and a wave of his rod, - Forth came Orphan Annie and Little Boy Blue, - And Wynken and Blynken and Nod. - With Alice from Wonderland, blue-eyed and fair, - Tom Tucker--Jack Horner with him, - And Oh, at the last, can you guess who was there?-- - Poor Topsy and Dear Tiny Tim! - - He spread out his arms and they passed one by one, - Each laden with treasures and toys, - And never or ever a night of such fun - Was passed by such girls and such boys; - Nor ever will Annie be orphan with him, - He told me, and Little Boy Blue - Came back from the shadows all misty and dim, - So glad that the toy dog was true. - - And always and always he’ll keep them with him, - He told me, through all of the years, - Poor Topsy and Alice and Dear Tiny Tim, - And Topsy will know no more tears. - But tales of them all he will bring Christmas night, - The brightest and sweetest and best, - That our boys and girls may know joy and delight - From Santa’s Child Hosts of the Blest! - - - - -THE RECONCILIATION OF PA - - - My Pa, he’s disappointed tuz I ain’t a boy. ’At is - He ain’t now but he used to was. He likes me tuz I’m his - An’ buys me lots of toys an’ things; but w’en I first begun - Ma said he’s awful fond of boys an’ ’ist wished I was one. - But now he don’t care any more, tuz I’m growed up so nice - He likes me better ’n before, an’ there ain’t any price - ’At you could offer him for me an’ he would take it, tuz - I’m so much nicer, don’t you see, ’an my Pa thought I was. - - W’en I’m come first my Mamma said ’at he ’ud ruther I - ’Ud been a boy the stork ’ud brought; she says she don’t see w’y, - Tuz she ’ist thinks ’at little girls are awful nice, an’ w’en - You wash ’eir face an’ brush ’eir turls, ’ey’re nicer ’n ever ’en. - But he is disappointed tuz at first he didn’t know - How rilly truly nice I was; but w’en I came to grow - He wouldn’t take the world for me, so he told Ma, ’ist tuz - I’m so much nicer, don’t you see, ’an my Pa thought I was. - - An’ my Ma says ’at if I grow up ’ist so nice an’ sweet - As I am now, my Pa ’ll know ’at stork was hard to beat; - An’ he won’t never wish again ’at I’m a boy, ’ist tuz - He’ll know how sweet I am, an’ ’en he’s glad I’m w’at I was; - Tuz boys are awful nice at first, ’at is, you think they are, - An’ w’en they’re big they’re ’ist the worst! An’ girls is better far, - An’ Ma says if you want ’em sweet, ’ist sweet as sweet can be, - You’ll find it awful hard to beat a little girl like me. - - - - -A WORLD WITHOUT CARE - - - There’s a song that is sweet - And a whistle that’s clear; - There’s a dog at his feet - And another one near; - There’s a fish in the brook - And a line that is whirled, - There’s a worm on a hook-- - All is well with the world. - - There’s a rock that has slipped - From the bank to the brink, - There’s a hat that is dipped - In the brook for a drink; - There’s a line that is cast - Where an eddy is swirled, - There’s a fat perch caught fast-- - All is well with the world. - - There’s a heartful of joy - And a handful of fish, - There’s a satisfied boy - Glad as gladness could wish; - There are leaves green and cool - Where the fat perch is curled, - There are more in the pool-- - All is well with the world. - - There’s an angler come home - At the close of the day, - There’s a chirp in the gloam - Of a whistle so gay, - There’s a monster near-caught - Where the foam danced and curled, - There’s a meal piping hot-- - All is well with the world. - - - - -RIGHT AFTER SCHOOL - - - I Know where’s the happiest Kingdom in all of the world I have seen, - No bigger than Grandfather’s orchard, and all of it’s grassy and green, - It has but a few dozen people, the happiest youngsters alive, - ’Tis ruled by a Princess of seven, and one little soldier of five; - There’s one little crown made of daisies and one little sword made of tin, - And one little drum that goes rolling betimes with a terrible din; - You’d think that a war was beginning by all of the noise that is made, - When, really, it’s only the army declaring itself on parade. - - In all of the bounds of the Kingdom there isn’t a book or a chore; - The reign of the Princess begins when the schoolday is over at four; - Her castle with turrets and towers is right near a big apple tree. - It isn’t a visible castle, but if you were there you could see; - And if you should chance to be looking that way when the proud - Princess comes, - You’d see a bold soldier go marching and hear a fierce rattle of drums, - You’d see loyal subjects and happy, with no thought of table or rule, - You’d want to belong to the Kingdom--the Kingdom of Right-After-School! - - It’s really a well-behaved people--they put by their slates and their books - And have little use for an army except as a matter of looks; - But nobody dares say addition, division, subtraction--if you - Should mention a one of these subjects the tin sword would run you right - through! - But you can say swinging or jumping or follow-my-leader, nor fear - You break any law of the country--and if from your window you hear - A chorus of voices or laughter, when evening grows twilit and cool, - You’ll know ’tis the music they make in the Kingdom of Right-After-School! - - There’s not a sad heart in the Kingdom, nor ever or ever a tear, - And all of the sorrows of schooldays are lost or forgotten in here; - The make-believe fairies go singing with songs that are wondrously sweet; - The green turf is flecked with white dresses and patters with fast-flying - feet; - It’s just between School’s-Out and Teatime--an hour or so of the day, - And often I see them there crowning with daisies the Princess of Play; - Then some one calls: “Supper-time, children!”--when evening grows twilit - and cool. - It fades from my sight till tomorrow--the Kingdom of Right-After-School! - - - - -A PLEA FOR OLD FRIENDS - - - I was fond, indeed, of Paul Revere, - In the days of my earlier age, - And the picture of him stands out clear - From the old school reader page; - And I’ve seen the light in the belfry tower, - I’ve heard the hoof beats, too, - But, alas! alas! in an evil hour, - They say it’s all untrue! - - And Barbara Frietchie--all these years, - From guileless boyhood down, - I’ve seen the flag and heard the cheers - In far off Fredericktown; - And I’ve seen Jackson lift his hat - And bid his troops march on, - But now, alas! they tell me that - Is a dreamer’s tale, and gone! - - And oft at night, as though ’t were real, - I’ve heard the flame’s wild roar, - I’ve seen Jim Bludso hold the wheel - Till the last galoot’s ashore; - I thought the better of men for it, - And of duty to die or do, - But some wise men, of little wit, - Say none of the tale is true. - - Oh, leave me the ride of Paul Revere - And the story of Fredericktown! - The nozzle agin’ th’ bank--so clear - From guileless boyhood down! - Leave me the curfew that was not rung, - Leave them for me and you; - And let more songs like these be sung, - Though none of the tales be true! - - - - -THE BOYVILLE CADETS - - - Hark! What is that clatter and patter of feet? - The Boyville Cadets are half-way up the street! - They march two by two, a most bloodthirsty horde, - Led by Captain Tom Jones, with a big wooden sword. - They’re mostly barelegged and coatless and brown, - A make-believe army from all parts of town, - With guns on their shoulders all whittled from lath, - And woe to the foeman who crosses their path. - - Bob Brown has a fife and Bill Blake has a drum. - See now in what martial procession they come; - Jim Dobbs waves the flag with victorious flirt, - A long willow pole with a red woolen shirt. - And Corporal Brownlegs, he squints down the line: - “Attention! Right shoulder! Guide right!” Oh, it’s fine - To know you’ve no troubles, no worries, no debts, - And march down the street with the Boyville Cadets! - - Now Sergeant Big Freckles cries, “Hep! Hep!” and “Hep!” - To see that the army keeps right perfect step. - And General Red Hair reins up with great force, - To shout some command from his make-believe horse. - Then Captain Tom Jones gives a formal salute, - And rests his big sword on the toe of his boot, - For woe to the foe that harasses or frets - The solid platoon of the Boyville Cadets! - - Then Corporal Barefoot is ordered to scout - For bloodthirsty redskins, and look all about. - They march, single file, through the thick-growing trees, - For favorite haunts of the red men are these. - Far off in the woods, is an ear-splitting shout. - Alas! ’Tis the death-cry of Barefoot, the scout! - And now all the air rings with war-whoops and cries; - Bang! bang! go the laths, and the red savage dies! - - A hand-to-hand fight, and the battle is done; - In the orchard the redskins lie dead, every one. - But, oh, woe is me! For all gory and red - Lies Barefoot, the scout, by the red men struck dead! - The Boyville Cadets lift him out of the dirt; - They wrap him about with the old woolen shirt; - And then, with drums muffled and heads sadly bowed, - They bear him back home, with the flag for a shroud. - - Then General Red Hair, in orders, gives thanks - To all of his soldiers, and bids them break ranks. - For out of the distance he hears a shrill call: - “Tom! Joe! Bill! Jim! Children! Why, where are you all?” - Then Barefoot, the scout, to his life is restored, - And Captain Tom Jones hides his big wooden sword; - For there’s wood to be split and there’s water to get - In the dull private life of the Boyville Cadet. - - - - -A LITTLE BOY I KNOW - - - A little boy I used to know, from whom I’ve been away, - Oh, very many years, took me upon a trip today. - It seemed so ood to be with him, and he was glad to be - Companion, guide, and friend until the journey’s end with me. - I quite forgot my cares with him, nor could I well be sad, - As long as he was at my side, for he was blithe and glad, - And oh, the merry songs he sang, the tunes he whistled clear - That I had half forgotten till he sang and whistled here! - - By many a winding stream we went, and many a limpid brook, - Where oft he bade me stop and cast a line and fishing hook - Until we drew a struggling fish from out some eddy deep, - And once upon the bank we lay and both fell fast asleep. - By clover meadows sweet we strayed, where cow bells tinkled far, - Deep in the woods where hollow logs and darting squirrels are, - And here and there he bade me stop till he would climb a tree - To shake a limb and rattle down some nuts for him and me. - - Down many a shady lane we walked, through some familiar land, - Where dreams of faces long forgot arose on every hand; - We saw a cottage by the road, and in the kitchen door - A woman with the sweetest face--a glimpse and nothing more. - And as she vanished from our sight I saw the teardrops shine - In both his eyes, and I could feel the tears well up in mine; - He plucked his shabby sleeve to brush the teardrops from his eye - And whispered, “I saw Mother there!” and I said, “So did I!” - - And there were spreading apple trees where oft he bade me lie - Upon the grass and watch the clouds that swept across the sky. - He lent me many a dream to dream--of fame and love and truth, - Such dreams as Fancy stores within the Treasureheart of Youth! - Ofttimes we found a sparkling spring and lay upon the brink - Our lips laved with its bubbling stream, to drink and drink and drink; - And oh, the joys we two renewed, and oh, the hum of bees, - The songs of birds, the violets and treasures such as these! - - A little boy I used to know, a lad of nine or ten, - Took me a journey glad today--I hope he’ll come again - To take my hand and walk with me where golden sunshine gleams, - To lead me by familiar ways and lend me all his dreams! - To keep me near the hopes we had, to whistle merry tunes, - To find me dawns like those we knew and sunny afternoons; - A little boy his Mother loved!--a lad of nine or ten; - Perhaps you’ve known and walked with him--I hope he comes again! - - - - -ASLEEP AT THE CIRCUS - - - Now the last roasted peanut is swallowed, - The last clown has gone on parade; - The last sugared popcorn been followed - By sips of the last lemonade. - His eyes, once so big, that shone brightly - Through all of the glad afternoon, - Are shut, and his fingers close tightly - And cling to his gaudy balloon. - - The last acrobat’s been applauded, - And shuffled his way from the mat; - The last bareback rider’s been lauded; - The clown, with his sugar-loaf hat, - Has gone with his powder and spangles; - The diver has made his last leap; - And here in my arms are brown tangles - Of curls, and a boy fast asleep. - - One sticky hand rests on my shoulder, - One holds fast the gaudy balloon, - That shrinks, and before it’s much older - Will fade like the glad afternoon. - His dreams, it may be, of the maddest - Of somersaults, recklessly hurled; - The tiredest, sleepiest, gladdest - And stickiest lad in the world! - - And oh, but the spangles were splendid! - And oh, but the music was grand! - The side-splitting clown laughter blended - With soul-stirring airs by the band, - Till naught of the glad marvel lingers - Save what in his dreams he may keep, - As he clasps his balloon with close fingers - And rests in my arms, fast asleep. - - And so from these joys without number, - Ere aught of the glitter was gone, - He went to his dream-laden slumber, - Where on plays the music, and on. - For him all the revel is maddest, - For him not a flag has been furled, - The tiredest, sleepiest, gladdest - And stickiest lad in the world! - -[Illustration: ASLEEP AT THE CIRCUS] - - - - -THE BARRIERS - - - Scrub out his freckles, ’twas Nature who gave ’em; - Silence his whistle and comb out his hair, - Muffle his footsteps, for People--Lord save ’em em-- - Want something noiseless and soulless and fair; - Bleach out the spots where the Summer sun kissed him, - Still all the tunes and the bird calls he knew, - Then, when he’s boy no more, who could resist him? - Sun and the Wind, here’s a lesson for you. - - Sun and the Wind and the freshness of showers, - How could you tempt him to revel and roam - Past the long hedges and through the wild flowers? - Did you not know it would cost him a home? - Did you not know when the gay bluebird glistened - Up on the bough and with wonder he rose, - Rose with his heart beating glad, as he listened, - Did you not know it would freckle his nose? - - Hide your heads, Daisies, that wave over yonder, - Gleam in the sunlight and dance by the creek, - You bade him leave the pale shadow and wander-- - Did you not know he might freckle his cheek? - You, too, the larks through the green meadows winging, - Did you not tempt him with glad song and free? - Why did you not let him learn through your singing - He would be outcast through following thee? - - Heartless blackberries, you led him from shelter; - Nuts, without shame, you did bid him to climb; - Butterflies bright, that he chased helter-skelter, - Have you no shame for the depths of your crime? - What if the heart of him beats but the truer, - What if the soul of him still sweeter grows, - What if the eyes of him sparkle the truer, - Do you not see you have freckled his nose? - - Scrub out the freckles--oh, well, doesn’t matter; - Maybe they’ll wash out with plentiful tears; - Muffle his footsteps, that no boyish patter - Rise to offend supersensitive ears; - Bid him not whistle the songs the fields taught him, - Let him be pale, still, anaemic, and thin, - Teach him and bleach him, and when you have got him - Thoroughly colorless, let him come in! - - - - -THE PLAINT OF THE NEW DOLL - - - We dot a doll to our house; - It tum on Trissmus day; - It wuzn’t hangin’ on a tree; - It tum some uzzer way; - ’Ey wouldn’t let me play wiz it, - ’Ey said ’at it might fall; - En so it laid ’ere all day long - En squall en squall en squall. - - ’E funniestes’ ’ittle sing, - Espeshully fer a doll; - En Mamma told me wen it tum - It wuzn’t dressed at all; - ’Ey only let me take one peek, - I ast ’em if I tould - ’Es press to see if it would squeak - Like my own dolly would. - - En ’en ’ey laughed en laughed en laughed, - En wouldn’t tell me why; - I dess tant ’magine why ’ey laughed, - It ain’t no use t’ try; - En how ’ey fussed en fussed en fussed - En I dess almos’ all - ’E uncles en ’e aunts I dot - Tum in to see ’at doll. - - En ’en ’ey laughed en Papa laughed - ’Es like a silly boy; - I never saw growed up folks make - Such fuss about a toy. - I dess I dot mos’ fifteen dolls, - ’E nices’ ever wuz, - En never tissed one half as much - As my own Papa does. - - I dess ’ey’ve everyone fordot - ’At I’m ’eir little dirl; - ’Ey haven’t changed my dress today, - My hair’s all out of turl; - ’Ey’s tandy on my face an’ hands, - I don’t look nice at all, - ’Ey’ve everyone fordotten me - Fer dess a nasty doll! - - I wis’ ’et I tould det it onct; - I’d frow it all about, - En knock it--so! En slap it--so! - En shake its sawdust out; - En ’en w’en ’ey saw how it looked - I dess know ’ey’d all be - Ez dlad ez tould be ’ess t’ have - One little dirl--like me! - - - - -A CHILD’S ALMANAC - - - My Mamma says ’at w’en it rains - ’Ey’re washin’ Heaven’s window-panes - An’ careless angels ’ist do fill - ’Eir pails too full an’ ’atway spill - Some water down on us. ’At’s w’y - It rains some days w’en maybe I - Would like to play. An’ ’en she says - It’s ’ist ’em angels’ carelessness - ’At makes ’em raindrops fall ’at way - At picnics an’ on circus day. - - My Mamma says ’at w’en it snows - ’Ey’re angels pickin’ geese, she knows, - An’ ’stead o’ usin’ ’em t’ stuff - ’Eir pillow cases, ’ey ’ist puff - An’ blow an’ don’t clear up ’eir muss - Till all ’em feathers fall on us. - An’ she says ’ey ’ist pick ’atway - ’Cuz ’ey want geese f’r Tris’mus day, - An’ ’at’s w’y ’ere’s ’e mostes’ snow - Right close t’ Tris’mus time, you know. - - My Mamma says w’en wind ’ist roars - An’ blows, ’at’s w’en ’e angels snores, - But w’en it lightnings, she says, w’y, - ’Ey’re scratchin’ matches on ’e sky. - An’ w’en it rumbles ’bove our heads - ’Ey’re movin’ furniture an’ beds - Up ’ere, an’ cleanin’ house an’ shakes - ’Eir moth balls out an’ ’at’s w’at makes - It hail. An’ weather, she ’ist ’clares - Is ’ist w’at angels does upstairs. - - - - -THE LOSER - - - The sun withheld its light that day; that night the stars were dim; - The portent of the earth and sky was ominous for him; - There was no gladness in the world; the fields held no delight; - The day of all his joys dissolved and melted into night; - He rubbed his pitching arms and felt the muscles rise and fall; - He wondered what the cruel fate that lost the game of ball; - He wandered idly by the brook, forsaken and alone, - To be a hero nevermore, unsung, unwept, unknown. - - ’Twas only yesterday he was the idol of the team! - Those cheers and loud hurrahs he heard--could they have been a dream? - They called him Tim the Tiger then! Small boys by scores he saw - To bear his glove, his coat, his shoes, with gratitude and awe. - With joy they saw his arm laid bare--that mighty arm and brown - That wound itself about his head and mowed the batsmen down; - And when he went upon the field, the mighty cheer for him - Showed how their hopes of victory were all bound up in Tim! - - It was but yesterday he bore the laurels on his brow, - But who, alas! is there so low to do him honor now? - His heart swells, bursting in his chest; the heart so bruised and sore; - Could he but go back on the field and pitch that game once more! - The tears fall from his eyes like rain, the hot and angry tears, - No sorrow has he known like this in all his fifteen years; - How will he meet the Tigers now? How look intothe eyes - Of those who staked their all on him and saw him lose the prize? - - To school he walks secluded ways where once with pride he strode, - With awestruck youngsters all about, the middle of the road; - Far from the madding crowd he stands upon the playground there - His honors fallen like the leaves in Autumn’s frosty air; - A humble Tiger is he now, and small boys pass him by - With cruel sneers where once he heard the cheers ring shrill and high; - And Reddy Blake, the Cyclone Curve, is pitcher forthe team, - While he’s but the somnambulist of a quick-vanished dream! - - - - -BACK TO SCHOOL - - - Fell in the creek twice yesterday! - Slipped and slid from a load of hay, - Stepped on a stone and bruised my toe; - Hardly walk ’cause I’m blistered so; - Hit my knee till it’s blue and black, - Sat in the sun and burned my back - When I went to swim, but my, I’m glad! - Best vacation I ever had. - - Slid off the old red barn last week. - Wind all gone so I couldn’t speak - When they laid me in upon the bed - And put cold water on my head. - Got poison-ivy on my legs - When I went in the weeds to look for eggs; - But I’ve had more fun since I don’t know when! - Hate to go back to school again. - - Burned my hands till they’re awful sore - When the calf ran out of the big barn door - And I tried to hold the rope and fell - Most twenty feet down the old dry well. - Lost my hat that was almost new, - In the great big lake, when the high wind blew; - And my pants are torn from many a climb, - But I never had such a summer-time. - - Ate poison berries by the creek - Till they thought I’d die, I felt so sick; - But they gave me ipecac to take, - And it cured up all my stomach-ache! - Got stung by bees, but I got stung best - When I started home with a hornet’s nest, - And I all swelled up; but I’m gone down now, - And it’s all in a boy’s life, anyhow! - - Nose all peeled till it’s red and rough, - Hands all brown, but I’m awful tough - From the exercise, and I’m big and strong, - ’Cause I hoed in a corn-field all day long. - And my uncle said that I might stay - For harvest-time, and he’d give me pay; - And I’d like to stay, but I have to go - Back home to school, ’cause my Ma said so. - - - - -DISENCHANTMENTS - - - Here is the brook where the bold pirates ferried, - Swashbuckling wretches, cold-blooded, unkind; - Here is the tree where vast treasure was buried, - Doubloons we dug for but never could find. - How things have changed since these waters were riven, - Splashed with our paddles and churned into foam! - Since the dark nights when the pickaxe was driven - Where the lost treasure lay under the loam! - - Here is the wood with its fastness unbounded, - Whence the red savage stole noiselessly out, - Warning us not till his warwhoop was sounded, - Leaving us scalped on the greensward about. - How things have changed from the steed and the stirrup, - Flintlock and tomahawk whittled from lath, - Where our blood ran there’s no fluid but syrup - From the sap maples along our war path! - - Here is the plain where our scouts reconnoitred, - Crawling and creeping through morass and glade, - Sighting some bloodthirsty savage who loitered - Near by the scene of some scalp-lifting raid. - How things have changed since the red deer went leaping, - Since came the bison by hundreds to browse, - Silent the plain where our brave scouts went creeping, - Save for the lowing of far distant cows. - - Here is the cave where our clans were assembled, - Guarded by sentries, nor traitor could reach; - Ghostly and tomb-like, where heroes dissembled - Blood-chilling fears in their boldness of speech. - Bruce had a refuge here, Wallace lay wounded, - Hallowed its clammy walls, safe its retreat, - Once ’twas a labyrinth, gloomy, unsounded, - ’Tis but a gravel pit, just off the street. - - How things have changed in the years since we knew them, - Pirate and redskin and treasure and clan; - Men walk beside them and past them and through them, - Giving no heed that our blood there once ran; - Making no sign for the struggles that swept them, - Flintlock and scalplock, raid, warfare, and strife, - How things have changed since we cherished and kept them! - All of the romance has gone out of life! - - - - -A RAINY NIGHT - - - ’Bout eight o’clock first night that we - Were down at the academy - ’Twas awful rainy out, and so - We both of us stayed in, you know; - But we could hear the wind and rain - Come splashing on the window-pane; - And after while, why, Henry Stout - Put up the curtain and looked out, - And said, “My! Ain’t she coming down! - I wish I was in Beaverstown.” - - And then nobody spoke at all, - Just listened to the rain-drops fall; - And Henry sniffled up his nose - Because he had a cold, I s’pose. - And then he said, “I wonder how - Our folks are getting on by now.” - And I said, “Oh, I guess all right. - My! Ain’t it rainy out to-night!” - And Henry gave a great big sigh - And swallowed hard--and so did I. - - And then he said, “My! Such a noise! - I guess there’s lots of homesick boys - Around tonight.” And I said, “Oh,”-- - Just careless like--“Oh, I don’t know.” - And then he said, “I guess Jim Brown - Is glad he stayed in Beaverstown - And didn’t have to come down here.” - And I said, “Do your eyes feel queer? - I got a speck in mine, I guess, - They water so.” And he said, “Yes.” - - And then he looked and tried to smile, - And we kept still for quite a while, - And heard it rain; and then he said, - “I s’pose our folks are gone to bed - And sound asleep by now, I guess.” - And then I swallowed and said, “Yes.” - So then we both got into bed - And heard it rain; and then he said, - “My! Ain’t she just a-pouring down! - I wish I was in Beaverstown.” - - - - -KITCHEN MIRACLES - - - In Aunt Amelia’s kitchen there are many wonders done, - Such miracles are wrought as never seen beneath the sun: - A pumpkin from the garden--just a yellow sphere that lies - Beneath her skilful handling ripens quickly into pies; - The corn grows into fritters, you must marvel at the change; - The apples change to dumplings in the glowing kitchen range - She waves her hands above it, and the milk is cottage cheese. - You merely watch her, and you see such miracles as these. - - She finds it easy, quite, to make blueberries into rolls; - And eggs are changed to omelets above the glowing coals; - And sometimes when she’s fixing the materials for pies - She turns cider into mince-meat right before your very eyes! - Sometimes she makes a currant roll--you would not think she could-- - Or makes a peach turn over, or does something just as good; - But she says quite the hardest task that ever she has found - Is, when she has her boys at tea, to make these things go ’round! - - - - -JIM BRADY’S BIG BROTHER - - - Jim Brady’s big brother’s a wonderful lad, - And wonderful, wonderful muscles he had; - He swung by one arm from the limb of a tree - And hung there while Jim counted up forty-three - Just as slow as he could; and he leaped at a bound - Across a wide creek and lit square on the ground - Just as light as a deer; and the things he can do, - So Jimmy told us, you would hardly think true. - - Jim Brady’s big brother could throw a fly ball - From center to home just like nothing at all; - And often while playing a game he would stand - And take a high fly with just only one hand; - Jim Brady showed us where he knocked a home run - And won the big game when it stood three to one - Against the home team, and Jim Brady, he showed - The place where it lit in the old wagon road! - - Jim Brady’s big brother could bat up a fly - That you hardly could see, for it went up so high; - He’d bring up his muscle and break any string - That you tied on his arm like it wasn’t a thing! - He used to turn handsprings, and cart-wheels, and he - Could jump through his hands just as slick as could be, - And circuses often would want him to go - And be in the ring, but his mother said no. - - Jim Brady’s big brother would often make bets - With boys that he’d turn two complete summersets - From off of the spring-board before he would dive, - And you’d hardly think he would come up alive; - And nobody ever who went there to swim - Could do it, but it was just easy for him; - And they’d all be scared, so Jim said, when he’d stay - In under and come up a half mile away. - - Jim Brady’s big brother, so Jim said, could run - Five miles in a race just as easy as one. - Right often he walked on his hands half a block - And could have walked more if he’d wanted to walk! - And Jimmy says wait till he comes home from school, - Where he is gone now, and some day, when it’s cool, - He’ll get him to prove everything to be true - That Jimmy told us his big brother could do! - - - - -THE SCAPEGOAT - - - If anybody comes in late - To dinner and don’t shut the gate, - Or doesn’t sweep the porch, or go - Right out and shovel off the snow, - Or bring in wood or wipe his feet, - Or leave the woodshed nice and neat-- - It’s me! - - If anybody doesn’t think - To carry out the cow a drink, - Or tracks mud on the kitchen floor, - Or doesn’t shut the cellar door, - Or leaves the broom out on the stoop, - Or doesn’t close the chicken coop-- - It’s me! - - If anybody doesn’t bring - The hammer in, or breaks a thing, - Or dulls the axe, or doesn’t know - What has become of so-and-so - That’s lost for maybe six weeks past, - If anybody had it last-- - It’s me! - - If anything is lost or gone, - They’ve got some one to blame it on; - I get the blame for all the rest - Because I am the little-est; - And if they have to blame some one - For what is or what isn’t done-- - It’s me! - - - - -A TRAGEDY OF CENTER FIELD - - - He muffed the fly that lost the game; he never did before; - The boys don’t think he’ll ever be light-hearted any more. - Our captain didn’t say a word; he just picked up his bat - And started home with downcast head--what words could equal that? - Nobody spoke on our whole side, or didn’t even ask - How Stubby came to muff the fly. Bud Hicks picked up his mask - And sighed an awful sorry sigh. Stub Weeks is not the same-- - Our boys don’t think he ever will, because he lost the game. - - Nobody asked him to explain. They couldn’t understand - How Stubby dropped it when he had the ball right in his hand. - It sailed from Pudgy Williams’ bat and soared just like a bird - To center field where Stubby was. Nobody hardly stirred - Because it was so critical, but Bud Hicks gave a shout, - He knew a fly in center field was just as good as out - When Stubby Weeks was under it. And then he gave a cry - Of agony too great for words when Stubby muffed the fly. - - Our boys all slowly walked away, and even Red Blake’s team - Were too surprised to cheer because it seemed just like a dream. - And over there in center field Stub Weeks was dreaming, too, - As though he was Napoleon and this was Waterloo. - The blow was such an awful one he acted sort of stunned, - And then he walked in from the field expecting to be shunned - Forevermore by all his friends. His throat was hoarse and dry; - We knew his heart was broken then because he muffed the fly. - - He saw us all pick up our things and walk away, and then - The awful stain upon his name came back to him again. - He thought of how it should have been--the loud hurrahs and cheers, - And leaned against the back-stop fence and drenched it with his tears, - Till all the boys felt sorry then, and told him not to mind - Because the sun was in his eyes and must have made him blind. - But weeks and weeks have passed since then--his heart is awful sore, - Our boys don’t think he’ll ever be light-hearted any more! - - - - -IN SWIMMING - - - ’Ist boys--th’ kind you used t’ know, - What-d’-y’-call-him, So-and-so - An’ What’s-His-Name--an’ every one - ’Ist full o’ health an’ out for fun. - No meanness in a one of us, - ’Ist brown an’ strong an’ mischievous, - ’Cuz that’s th’ way ’at boys all grow-- - ’Ist boys--th’ kind you used t’ know. - - ’Ist boys--th’ kind you used t’ be. - What! Never climbed an apple tree - An’ shook ’em down? Why, Mister, you-- - You never was a boy, real true. - I’ll bet ’at you was mischievous - As you could be. You’re foolin’ us - ’Cuz you can’t help but see ’at we - Are boys--’ist like you used t’ be. - - Of course we ought t’ be at school, - But my! The water’s nice an’ cool - An’ when it calls you, w’y, you ’ist - Can’t be a real boy an’ resist. - An’ say! We caught a fish down there - ’Most two feet long--right close t’ w’ere - You’re standin’ now. Now don’t you see - We’re boys--’ist like you used t’ be? - - Say, you ain’t goin’ t’ tell our Ma - ’At you was passin’ by an’ saw - Us swimmin’ here. W’y, Mister, you - Won’t never feel right if you do. - Don’t be a tattle-tale! W’y, say, - If you should give us boys away - You couldn’t never bear to see - A boy--’ist like you used t’ be. - - Come on, now! You ain’t goin’ t’ tell - On us. I know it, ’ist as well - As anythin’. You wouldn’t hurt - Her feelin’s ’ist t’ do us dirt. - You won’t? Thanks, Mister. You’re a brick. - We’re goin’ home, Sir, pretty quick. - It’s awful fine here, ’cuz, y’ see, - We’re boys--’ist like you used t’ be. - -[Illustration: IN SWIMMING] - - - - -AN UNUSUAL CHUM - - - Henry Blake’s father goes fishing with him, - And goes in the creek so’s to teach him to swim; - He talks to him just like they’re awful close chums - And sometimes at night he helps Henry do sums; - And once he showed Henry how he used to make - A basket by whittling a peach stone and take - The bark off of willows for whistles although - He hadn’t made one since a long time ago. - - Henry Blake’s father is just like his chum, - And when he goes fishing he lets Henry come; - He fixes two seats on the bank of the brook - And shows Henry how to put frogs on his hook; - And sometimes he laughs in the jolliest way - At some little thing that he hears Henry say, - And dips up a drink in his hat like you do - When only just boys go a-fishing with you. - - Henry Blake’s father will take him and stay - Somewhere in the woods for a half holiday - And wear his old clothes and bring home a big sack - Of hick’ries and walnuts to help Henry crack; - And sit on a dead log somewhere in the shade - To eat big sandwiches his mother has made; - And Henry Blake’s father, he don’t seem as though - He’s more than his uncle, he likes Henry so! - - - - -AND JUST THEN - - - Don’t you remember when the ship, the pirate ship, that flew - The black flag with the gleaming skull, in the fierce gale that blew, - Went on the rocks? I think it was upon the Spanish Main; - The sails were torn to tatters and there fell a driving rain, - The air was pierced with cries of fear, shocks followed upon shocks, - “Come, man the lifeboats,” called the mate, “the ship is on the rocks!” - And just when lightnings rent the air and all the sky was red, - Your mother said, “You’ve read enough, my boy! It’s time for bed!” - - Don’t you remember when the score stood six to six, until - The very ending of the game and every heart stood still? - The Red Sox pitcher took his place, while not a watcher stirred, - A hit, a pass, an error and a runner got to third. - Don’t you remember, as you read, you almost heard the crack - As bat met ball and you could feel cold chills go down your back? - And just as you had but a page to find which players led, - Your mother said, “You’ve read enough, my boy! It’s time for bed!” - - Don’t you remember when Wild Bill and Deadshot Dick, the scout, - Were prisoned in the rocky cave with redskins all about, - With all their ammunition gone, nor food to eat, as they - Had been a thousand times before, but always got away? - The war-whoops rang out fierce and shrill. Said Dick, “I have a plan; - We will escape or sell our lives as dearly as we can.” - And just as you turned o’er the page to see what plans they’d lay, - The clock struck nine--your mother came and took the book away. - - Oh, Captain Kidd, it seemed to me when you went on the rock - You always timed the hour of it to be at nine o’clock! - And Dick, the scout, the redskins came and fell on you with rage - Just when my boyhood bed time came and I turned down the page! - And Spike, the wizard of the slab, who mowed the batsmen down - Like blades of grass, the hero of the little country town, - You seemed to time the crisis of your fiercest game, someway, - At nine o’clock, when Mother came and took the book away! - - - - -AFTERWARD - - - I’m glad I was always so good to her; - I was just up there in the nursery - Picking up things--you know--that were - Left strewn about as carelessly - As a child will do when she’s called from play; - I picked them up with a mist and blur - In my eyes, and I laid them all away-- - I’m glad I was always so good to her. - - And many’s the picture that came to me, - That came to me o’er a Teddy bear - Or a doll or a whole tin infantry - Arrayed in a battle column there; - Picture on picture of girls and girls - (One year and two years and three) that were; - Of pinafores and blue frocks and curls-- - I’m glad I was always so good to her. - - Dreams on dreams and they ride me down, - Column and phalanx, and voices call; - And grasses grow green and come sere and brown, - And leaves bud, blossom and blow and fall; - She had been six now--and seven--and ten-- - _So_ tall--and _so_ tall--how fair they were, - How fair they were and they would have been, - Those lost ones--I’m glad I was good to her. - - - - -CIRCUS DAY - - - If you’re waking call me early, call me early, Mother dear. - I think at 4 o’clock A.M., the circus will be here; - If it was any other day ’twould take an awful shock - To rouse me from my little bed before quite 8 o’clock; - You needn’t mind my breakfast, for I’ll be in dreadful haste, - And if I see the cars unload I’ll have no time to waste; - Perhaps they’ll wash the cages, Ma, and I’ll be there to see - The men take off the sideboards from the whole menagerie. - - If you’re waking call me early, call me early, Mother dear, - Because the place where it unloads is full two miles from here; - I’d faint without my breakfast if ’twas any other day, - But I’ll be strong enough, I think, to run quite all the way; - The boys I know will all be there; ’twill be a wondrous sight - To see the elephants led out before it’s hardly light; - And hear the lions roar, which makes goose pimples when you hear-- - If you’re waking, call me early, call me early, Mother dear. - - If you’re waking call me early, call me early, Mother dear, - No matter if you whisper it I’ll be quite sure to hear; - If I was being waked to turn the wringer it would be - A good deal harder job, of course, for you to waken me; - But I will leave my stockings on and put my shirt in place, - And if I’m rushed for time I will not need to wash my face; - And in the early morning light you’ll see me leaving here - About three minutes after four, so call me, Mother dear. - - If you’re waking, call me early, call me early, Mother dear; - I will not yawn and rub my eyes and ask if morning’s here; - I will not pull the covers up as I have done before - And ask you if I cannot sleep just half an hour more; - I’ll jump right out of bed as soon as ever you may call - And be all dressed and down the stair and gone out through the hall - Before you say Jack Robinson--the circus will be here - At 4 o’clock, so call me early, early, Mother dear! - - - - -THE TOUR OF A SMILE - - - My papa smiled this morning when - He came down stairs, you see, - At Mamma; and when he smiled, then - She turned and smiled at me; - And when she smiled at me, I went - And smiled at Mary Ann, - Out in the kitchen and she lent - It to the hired man. - - So then he smiled at someone, who - He saw, when going by; - Who also smiled and ere he knew - Had twinkles in his eye; - So he went to his office then - And smiled right at his clerk, - Who put some more ink on his pen - And smiled back from his work. - - So when his clerk went home he smiled - Right at his wife, and she - Smiled over at their little child - As happy as could be; - And then their little child, she took - The smile to school, and when - She smiled at teacher from her book, - Teacher smiled back again. - - And then the teacher passed on one - To little James McBride, - Who couldn’t get his lessons done, - No matter how he tried; - And Jamesy took it home and told - How teacher smiled at him - When he was tired and didn’t scold, - But said, “Don’t worry, Jim!” - - And when I happened to be there - That very night to play, - His mother had a smile to spare - Which came across my way; - And then I took it after while - Back home, and Mamma said: - “Here is that very self-same smile - Come back with us to bed!” - - - - -WHEN GRANDPA PLAYS - - - I don’t know what makes Grandpa tired; he’s hardly done a thing - Except to put some hammocks up and help us children swing; - He only came an hour ago, and we’ve been here all day. - He says we’re most too much for him and thinks he’ll hardly stay; - He just played drop-the-handkerchief and blind man’s buff, but he - Says, My! we’ve got him out of breath and tired as he can be. - He says it’s most too much for him to play leap-frog and ball, - But we have been here all day long, and we’re not tired at all! - - He started to play hide and seek, and first he had to blind - And then he ran with all his might to see who he could find, - And Tommy Watkins beat him in from there behind a tree, - Till Grandpa had to give it up and say, “All’s out’s in free!” - And then he sat down on a stump and said he’s tired to death. - He had to hold his sides a while till he could catch his breath. - He said he’d like to shake a tree and make some apples fall, - But he’s too tired, and we boys here are hardly tired at all! - - He only ran in under once when we were in the swing, - And then he had to rest because he’s tired as everything; - And once he showed us how to climb a great, tall tree, but when - He only got a few feet up he slid right down again. - He said he used to climb a tree, oh, very, very tall - And sit across a branch way up and never tire at all, - But now he’s out of practice, and his legs won’t stay around - The trunk, and he feels safer when he stays down on the ground! - - And sometimes when he goes back home and holds us by the hand, - All wringing wet and out of breath, our Ma says “Goodness, Land! - I think you are the youngest boy of all the boys in sight.” - But Grandpa rubs his legs and arms and limps and says “Not quite!” - And sometimes in the parlor, why, he says he was so strong - When he was just a boy they used to take him right along - To lift the heavy things and do the hardest work, you know, - But now us boys ’ll tire him out in just an hour or so! - - - - -THE PARTED WAYS - - - I used to know a little lad, - A youngster of thirteen, - Who wasn’t very good or bad, - But somewhere in between. - He had such freckles on his nose - As your nose seems to bear; - Indeed, I’d almost think that those - Were some he used to wear. - - He used to have an old straw hat - All frazzled at the brim, - Indeed, I’d almost think that that - Came down to you from him. - And he had such a dog as now - Barks joyfully along - With you--it makes me wonder how - It could have lived so long. - - And in his heart he held such song - As fell upon my ear, - And echoed through the shadows long - When you came whistling near; - So when at twilight, dawn or noon - This overture you bring, - It seems to be the very tune - This other lad would sing. - - And he had pockets bulged with things - By which he set much store, - With knives and marbles, tops and strings - And half a hundred more; - I see your pockets emptied now, - Your things cast up with care, - Until they seem to be, somehow, - His treasures you have there. - - I know not where it was or when, - But with his heart of song - He went and came not back again, - And took his dreams along; - So some day in a little while - He’ll wave a sun-browned hand. - And leave you with his cheery smile-- - And you will understand. - -[Illustration: THE PARTED WAYS] - - - - -A MESSAGE HOME - - - Say, Little Boy, ’twixt dawn and dusk who treads such devious ways, - I wish you would remember me to all your sunny days; - For once they were such friends of mine; so bid them my good cheer - And say you saw an old, old friend, who holds them very dear; - Remember me to those cool paths, that led by fields and streams, - Where what were my songs now are yours and what were mine your dreams; - Just say you saw an old, old friend, who wanted you to tell - Them all he sent them love and cheer and wished them always well. - - And, Little Boy, if you should lie beneath some spreading tree, - Be good enough to say it has remembrance sweet from me; - For once it used to cover me with shade so thick and cool - And bid me lie and rest and dream as I came home from school; - And when you romp with comrade boys at noontime, Lad, I pray, - Remember me to all of them and to the games they play; - And let no games too humble be, no youngsters be too small - To know an old, old friend sends love and blessings to them all. - - Remember me to all your dreams, to rose and bush and stem, - To days too short to hold your joys, remember me to them; - To all your secrets deep and vast, of things that are and were - And are to be, half-whispered in the twilight’s dusk and blur; - Just say an old friend, long away, but still remembering - Would have them know his heart is full of memories that bring - Delight to bygone fellowships, and he would have you tell - Them all he sends them love and cheer, and wishes them so well! - - For, over land and over sea the hearts of us that fare - Swell with the messages they bid the homebound comrade bear; - And over days and over years have I fared forth and so - I bid you bear my greetings, Lad, to all the joys you know. - Remember me to all the hearts and hopes and dreams and deeds, - Bear blessings of mine everywhere the path of boyland leads; - Just say you saw an old, old friend, who wanted you to tell - The joys and boys of youth he loved and wished them always well. - - - - -LULLABY - - - Sleepy little, creepy little goblins in the gloaming - With their airy little, fairy little faces all aglow, - Winking little, blinking little brownies gone a-roaming - Hear their rustling little, bustling little footfalls as they go; - Laughing little, chaffing little voices sweetly singing - In the dearest little, queerest little baby lullabies, - Creep, creep, creep! - Time to go to sleep! - Baby playing ’possum with his big, brown eyes! - - Cricket in the thicket with the oddest little chatter - Sings his prattling little, rattling little, tattling little tune, - Fleet the feet of tiny stars go patter, patter, patter, - As they scamper from the heavens at the rising of the moon; - Beaming little, gleaming little fire flies go dreaming - To the dearest little, queerest little baby lullabies, - Creep, creep, creep! - Time to go to sleep! - Baby playing ’possum with his big, brown eyes! - -[Illustration: LULLABY] - - - Quaking little, shaking little voices all a-quiver - In the mushy little, rushy little, reedy, weedy bogs, - Droning little, moaning little chorus by the river - In the joking little, croaking little cadence of the frogs, - Eerie little, cheery little glowworms in the gloaming - Where the clover heads like fairy little night caps rise, - Creep, creep, creep! - Time to go to sleep! - Baby playing ’possum with his big, brown eyes! - - - - -DISGUISING TOIL - - - When I was just a little boy and sent to cut the weeds, - I played myself a hero bold and given to mighty deeds; - I played myself an armored knight, my scythe a broadsword keen, - The weeds an army of my foes come marching o’er the green; - I laid my good broadsword about, they broke and ran pell-mell, - At every stroke some stubborn lout and his retainers fell. - And when I told them of my play, with lusty shouts and glee, - The neighbor boys brought scythes and fell to cutting weeds for me. - - When I was just a little boy and sent to cut the wood, - I played myself a frontier scout, six feet in buckskin stood; - I played the red men swarmed about and all the timbers laid - Must be quick hewed and fashioned for an old frontier stockade; - Quick fell my axe with flashing blade, for all about I heard - The war-whoop of the warriors who in the thicket stirred. - And when I told them of my play, with lusty strokes and cry, - The neighbor boys fell to and wrought my woodpile brimming high. - - When I was just a little boy and sent to scrub the walk - With hose and broom, I used to play it was the good ship Hawk - Or Hornet, Spider or Whatnot, afire far out at sea, - Nor help at hand where’er I looked, to windward or to lee; - And how I fought the tongues of flame that swept by stern and bow! - The clouds of smoke that rolled above--I almost see them now! - And when I told them of my play, with many a lusty shout, - The neighbor boys plied hose and broom to put the fire out. - - And when I had to shovel snow I led’ some hardy band - Of undismayed discoverers, in far-off Arctic land; - With stores and goods and blubber, too, all buried deep below - The mark that I had left beneath some good six feet of snow; - And almost famished, there I dug, full knowing I should find - At last the goodly stores of stuff that we had left behind. - And when I told them of my play, with many a lusty shout, - The neighbor boys plied willing spades and helped me dig them out. - - - - -LITTLE GIRL WITH THE CURLS - - - Little girl with the curls, and the passionless eyes, - With your heart that is pure as the cool springs that rise - In the green of the hills, and with cheeks that are fair - And unsoiled of the world as the snowflake in air, - With your dreams that are sweet and that always come true, - Little girl with the curls, here’s a blessing for you. - - Little girl with the curls and with grace that is sweet - From the toss of your head to your fast-flying feet, - With the light in your eyes that is brimming with truth - And the straightforward gaze that’s the glory of youth, - With your smiles that are glad and your days that are fair, - Here’s a blessing as rich as the gold of your hair. - - Little girl with the curls and the kisses as light - As the butterfly’s kiss of the flower in its flight, - With your heart all atune to the beauties you see, - With the song of your days sweet as music can be, - With your peace like the pardon of heaven unfurls, - Here’s a blessing for you, little girl with the curls. - - And Oh, be the days of thy trial as far - From the deeps of the sea as the snowy peaks are! - And Oh, be thy heart in its singing atune, - Thy skies be but blue with the splendors of June. - So bless thee and keep thee and spare thee--with pearls - Be thy days strung through life, little girl with the curls. - - - - -MY WONDERFUL DAD - - - My Daddy, he lived in a wonderful house, and he played with such wonderful - boys; - They were neighbors of his; and the attic they had was a storehouse of - wonderful toys; - He slept every night in a wonderful bed, with a tick that his grandmother - made - From the feathers of geese that she picked all herself, and so soft he was - almost afraid - He would sink out of sight when he got into bed; he could look from his - window right out - And see where the vines used to bring him sweet flowers just by crawling - along up the spout; - And he could look over and see where the woods and the squirrels and birds - used to be. - He must have had wonderful times where he lived from the way that he tells - them to me! - - My Daddy, he caught the most wonderful fish--there were thin ones and fat - ones and round, - And some were so long that their tails when he walked would be dragging right - down on the ground; - He scraped off their scales on a log that he had at the woodpile, and said - he would know - That log just as well if he saw it today, although that was a long time ago. - He used to dig worms of a wonderful size--he has never seen any like those - Since he was grown up; and on Saturdays he wore a wonderful old suit of clothes - And a hat that an uncle of his had forgot, for on Friday he did all his sums, - And Saturday always he went off somewhere with his one or two wonderful chums. - - My Daddy, he lived in a wonderful place when he was a twelve-year-old lad, - For no matter what kind of a day it might be there was always some fun to - be had. - He learned how to swim in a wonderful creek, where all of the whole summer - long - The water was warm, and the springboard they had it was springy and slippery - and strong. - And on the way home they found berries to eat, and he said he remembers them - well, - And it didn’t seem nearly a mile to back home, for there always was - something to tell - That took up the time both for him and his chums, and sometimes they came - home a new way, - And always all summer they had it all planned what to do on the next Saturday. - - My Daddy, he said he could go back there now and could take me as straight - as a string - To all of the wonderful places he knew--where the first flowers came in the - spring; - Where you almost were sure to catch fish in the brook--where the nuts would - come dropping in fall; - Where the most berries were on the way to back home--he is sure he remembers - them all. - He knows where the squirrels were most apt to be, and the lane where the - hay wagon comes; - And said he’d find names in the bark of a tree that were cut there by him - and his chums - Twenty-five years ago, and the log where they sat when they found the big - garter-snake curled. - My Daddy, he must have had wonderful times in the splendidest place in the - world! - - - - -REMEMBRANCES, BILL - - - I wonder if you still remember them, Bill, - The fresh morning glories that crept up the sill - And nodded at us when the night time was gone - And curtains thrown open to let in the dawn; - The light over there, and the edge of the sun - That blazed on the hill when the day was begun, - The air on our cheeks and the sparkle of dew, - Our hearts and our hopes like the day that was new. - - I wonder if you still remember them, Bill, - The way of a thousand delights up the hill, - Through lanes and by hedges, where orchards were sweet, - And clover dews healing the woes of bare feet; - The chatter of squirrels, the rattle of leaves, - The round, yellow pumpkins, the wind-tattered sheaves, - The shade that was deep and lent splendor to dreams - And lips that were laved by the bubbles of streams. - - I wonder if you still remember them, Bill, - The times when the cup of all nature would spill - Its gladness for us, when the days overflowed - With the laughter of playtime, and far down the road - Were milestones all marked by delights jointly shared, - To set off the days where adventure’s steps fared; - Nor ever a secret but innocence knew, - The heart of youth hallowed and joy bubbled through. - - I wonder if you still remember them, Bill, - The times in the twilight, on hedgerow and hill - When we whistled homeward, upon the old road - With hearts full of gladness that quite overflowed; - The pillows where nestled two tangles of hair, - The joy-freighted dreams, with a left-over share - For the dawn of the morrow--a thread that was pearled - With jewels of joy that were strung ’round our world. - - I wonder if you still remember them, Bill, - Our vows to the future we thought to fulfill; - Our day dreams to cherish, our faith to endure, - Through trials how bitter our hearts to keep pure; - No gladness of living but we two would share-- - The lanes and the byways are wondrously fair, - But somehow the voices grow tuneless and still-- - I wonder if you still remember them, Bill. - - - - -THE BEREAVEMENT - - - We’re all alone, ’ist Pop an’ me, - ’Cuz Mamma’s gone away somew’eres - T’ stay the longest time; an’ we - Are all alone; an’ Pop ’ist stares - A-past me an’ he never hears - Me when I ast w’ere she could be, - An’ both his eyes are full o’ tears - W’en we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me. - - An’ after w’ile I ast him w’y - She don’t come back; but he don’t know; - An’ ’en some way he starts t’ cry - Till I say, “Please, Pop, don’t cry so.” - An’ put my arms part way around - His neck an’ hug him, ’ist cuz we - Are lonesome; he don’t make a sound; - An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me. - - An’ he ’ist hugs me up so tight - An’ sez my Mamma’s gone so fur - She won’t come back, but sez we might - ’Ist some day, maybe, go to her. - An’ I ast w’y can’t we go now - ’Cuz we’re so lonesome here; but he - Don’t seem to hear me ast, somehow, - An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me. - - An’ ’en I ’ist fergit she’s gone - An’ think it’s almos’ time fur her - T’ come an’ put th’ supper on, - But w’en Pop’s eyes are all a blur - I ’member ’at’s she’s gone away, - An’ can’t git supper; Pop sez he - Ain’t hungry, an’ I ain’t, I say; - An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me. - - An’ ’en Pop rocks me in his lap - An’ rubs my head, ’ist soft an’ kind, - An’ asts me if I’ll take a nap - If he pulls down th’ parlor blind. - An’ in a little w’ile I fall - Asleep an’ he ’ist rocks; but he - Don’t never go t’ sleep at all, - An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me. - - - - -IN CHILDHOOD TIME - - - Hark! I hear the happy laughter that from children’s voices rings, - Swelling out like some vast golden harp with half a thousand strings, - Every one vibrating grandly in an ecstatic acclaim, - In a medley of sweet melodies that set the birds to shame; - On the harp of childhood’s happiness each note rings clear and true, - For the heart is pure and perfect and each quivering string is new, - And it tells and swells like bells afar that ring and rhyme and chime - The sweetest music ever told in note or tune or time. - - When the heart is growing older and the harp of laughter rings, - There’s a false note clashing somewhere in the swelling of the strings; - There’s a chord that strikes imperfect, where some sorrow echoes through - The melody, and grief has warped the strings to strains not true. - Sometimes there’s brilliant music that rings from an empty heart, - But it’s not the melodious laughter of the child, that knows no art, - But just flows full and free, for Nature’s teachings, undefiled, - Make music that is heart-true in the sweet voice of a child. - - Could I gather every note that floats and rings and swells and tells - The gladness of the child’s heart, true as any chime of bells - May tell the passing hour, and fashion them into a song, - ’Twould thrill and fill the air with melody as though a throng - Of seraphim, as tinkling cymbals struck the twinkling stars - In heaven’s perfect music, where no din or discord mars, - And a myriad strings would mingle in a melody sublime, - The rhyme and chime of laughter gathered from all Childhood’s Time. - - - - -DON’T - - - A hundred times a day I hear - His mother say: “Don’t do that, dear!” - From early morn till dusk ’tis all - “Don’t do that, dear!” I hear her call - From the back porch and front and side - As though some evil would betide - Unless she drummed it in his ear: - “Don’t do that, dear! Don’t do that, dear!” - - If he goes out and slams the door; - “Don’t do that, dear!” and if the floor - Is newly scrubbed and he comes near; - “Don’t do that, dear!” is all I hear. - If he comes romping down the stairs; - “Don’t do that, dear!” and if he wears - No coat, but hangs it somewhere near, - She sees and says: “Don’t do that, dear!” - - If he goes shinning up a tree: - “Don’t do that, dear!” If he should be - Astride a roof I know I’ll hear - Her call to him: “Don’t do that, dear!” - His life is all “Don’t this,” “Don’t that,” - “Don’t loose the dog,” “Don’t chase the cat,” - “Don’t go,” “Don’t stay,” “Don’t there,” “Don’t here,” - “Don’t do that, dear!” “Don’t do that, dear!” - - Sometimes he seems to me as still - As any mouse until a shrill - “Don’t do that, dear!” falls on the air - And drives him swift away from there. - So when he finds another spot: - “Don’t do that, dear!” and he says: “What?” - And she replies and cannot say say-- - But--“Well, don’t do it, anyway!” - - - - -EXTINGUISHED - - - The boy stood on the burning deck, whence all but him had fled”-- - When Tommy Gibbs stood up to speak he had it in his head, - But when he saw the schoolroom full of visitors, he knew, - From his weak knees and parching tongue, the words had all fled, too. - - “The boy stood on the burning deck”--a second time he tried, - But he forgot about the boy, or if he lived or died; - He only knew the burning deck was something nice and cool - Beside the rostrum where he stood that awful day in school. - - “The boy stood on the burning deck”--he felt the flames and smoke. - His tongue was thick, his mouth was dry, he felt that he would choke. - And from the far back seats he heard a whisper run about: - “Come back here, Tom, and take your seat. They’ve put the fire out!” - - - - -THE UNCHEERED HERO - - - Tim Brooks he studies awful hard - And faithful all the year, - But goes out in the school house yard - And never gets a cheer; - And Billy Gibbs, he shirks and frets-- - He hates to work at all-- - But you should hear the cheer he gets - Because he hits the ball. - - Tim Brooks he always leads his class - And gets his lessons done; - But Billy Gibbs lets hours pass - Just thinking up some fun; - But no one cheers and throws his hat - And says: “Hurrah for Tim!” - But when Bill Gibbs goes up to bat - The boys all cheer for him. - - Bill Gibbs he suffers awful pain - When he comes to recite; - He cannot do his sums again - Or get his grammar right; - Then teacher calls on Timmy Brooks - And points to him with pride, - But when we play a game she looks - And cheers for Bill outside. - - Sometimes Tim Brooks he sees the game - And watches Bill at bat, - He gets excited just the same - And cheers and throws his hat; - But when he has his sums in school - And Bill is watching him, - Bill quite forgets the Golden Rule - And never cheers for Tim. - - I guess I’d rather be like Tim - Than Billy Gibbs, but when - The boys outside are cheering him - It sounds quite pleasant then; - And it must sometimes seem quite hard - To study all the year, - And go out in the school house yard - But never get a cheer! - - - - -OLD HALLOWE’EN FRIENDS - - - Oho! Mr. Ghost, with your raiment of white, - Come to frighten me out of my wits in the night! - With your eyes flaming forth like two coals and your breath - Bearing fire that would scare a poor mortal to death; - With your rows of great teeth grinning widely at me - And your loose-hanging gown flapping under the tree - In the orchard out there--Oh! I know how you’re made, - And the youngsters who made you, so I’m not afraid. - - Oho! Mr. Ghost, I am waiting for you; - You’re an old friend of mine, both trustworthy and true; - For that big head of yours that near gave me a fright - Was in somebody’s pumpkin patch only last night. - And out of my window not two hours ago - I saw your head scooped out by Bill, Jack, and Joe; - And I saw you stuck up on the end of a lath - Before you were stationed right here in my path. - - Oho! Mr. Ghost, with your garments so fine! - I know what became of that sheet on the line - In the neighbor’s back yard, newly washed and alone, - It is hiding that lath that you use for backbone. - And the candle that burned in the kitchen last night - Lights those cavernous eyes that near gave me a fright; - Indeed, you are made from such odds and such ends - That I feel we’re the warmest of very old friends. - - And those sepulchral groans you are making at me, - I know whence they come--from that big apple tree - That is right behind you--I have heard them before; - They were begging for cake at the side kitchen door. - So you see, Mr. Ghost, with your pumpkin and lath, - With your candle and sheet, when I came up the path - I heard a boy chuckle up there in the tree, - And that is the reason you can’t frighten me! - - - - -A REFUGE IN DISTRESS - - - A fellow’s father he looks wise - Of office work and such, - But when it comes to things like what - A boy wants, he ain’t much. - For when it comes to cuts or warts - Or stone bruise on your toes, - A fellow’s father don’t know, but - A fellow’s mother knows. - - A fellow’s father he looks wise - And says: “A-hem! A-hem!” - But when it comes to cakes and pies, - What does he know of them? - He knows the price of wheat and rye - And corn and oats, it’s true, - But if you get the leg ache, why, - He don’t know what to do. - - And if you burned your back the time - That you went in to swim, - And want some stuff to heal it, why, - You never go to him, - Because he doesn’t know a thing - About such things as those, - But you just bet, and don’t forget, - A fellow’s mother knows. - - And if your nose is sunburned, till - It’s all peeled off, and you - Go to him for some healin’ stuff, - He don’t know what to do. - He’s just as helpless as can be, - But when a fellow goes - And asks his mother, why, you see, - A fellow’s mother knows. - - A fellow’s father knows a lot, - But it ain’t any use, - So if a fellow’s really got - The leg ache or a bruise, - Or if there’s anything he wants - He gets right up and goes - And asks his mother, for, you see, - A fellow’s mother knows. - - - - -THE LOST HEART - - - Back among the trees and trellises, along the leaf-strewn lane, - Sitting on the bank of the mill stream and dreaming dreams again, - Drinking water sweet as nectar from the bucket at the well, - In the orchard’s leaf and silence, watching windfalls as they fell, - Trying here, at five and thirty, just to be a boy again, - To recall the joys of boyhood and forget the cares of men; - But I listen to a lesson in the twitter of the wren: - When the boy’s heart turns to man’s it never throbs the same again. - - Once the sun marks noon of lifetime, once the morning steals away, - Once the shadows growing shorter and then fall the other way, - Once the play time ends at manhood, once the frolicking is done, - Once the face is turned from dawning to the setting of the sun, - You may sit among the flowers that you plucked and threw away, - Turn the leaves of Time all backward, try to read them as you may, - You may kindle fires of Memory, you may sit and watch the flame, - But there’s something changed within you that can never be the same. - - You may lay aside the burden of your troubles as you will, - But the bent and sunken shoulders tell the story to you still; - The story of the troubles and the trials that are sealed - From the simple hearts of children, and to men alone revealed. - The sorrow dulls, the sigh is stilled, the sore hearts soothed are, - The smarting wound is healed again, but always leaves a scar, - The fire of youth burns only once, and dies in its dead flame, - The simple heart of boyhood that can never be the same. - - So I sit among the trellises and trees and wonder why: - Clear the air as in my boyhood and as blue the unflecked sky, - Full the leaves as ever blowing, sweet the bird songs and as free, - But the boy’s heart that throbbed to them is untuned and dead in me. - There’s a longing, longing, longing, speaking in a deep-drawn sigh, - For the heart that throbbed in boyhood, cloudless as the azure sky; - For the heart that was the sunlight and the air--that tongue nor pen - Can ever paint or picture--that I cannot know again. - - - - -VERSES OF A LITTLE CHILD - - - Never care as she lies asleep, - Dear little lassie with red-brown hair; - Angels of Light a sweet vigil keep, - Keep for the little one slumbering there. - Never a dream as she lies so still, - Never a dream but of Fairyland, - Fairyland and the flowers that fill - Her bed, and the lilies within her hand. - - Never a tear as she lies at rest, - Now or ever or evermore; - Never a sorrow to bruise her breast, - Ever the gladness of fairylore. - Never the rough way to bruise her feet, - Never or ever a discord sound, - Only the murmur of music sweet, - And the laughing of Cherubim, all around. - - Never a sigh from the silent lips, - For the dollies all carefully laid away; - Only the music of laughter slips - Out of the realm of the sunlit day. - Never or ever a thought or care, - For the little hat with its flowered wreath, - Bearing a vision of red-brown hair - Flying in tangled curls beneath. - -[Illustration: VERSES OF A LITTLE CHILD] - - - Dead? Ah, no! She is just asleep, - Asleep where the dreams and daisies are; - Angels of Light a sweet vigil keep, - Keep in the light of a twinkling star. - Asleep, and the odors of flowers fill - Her bed, and the lilies within her hand; - Asleep, and the whispering angels still - Her sighs with the dreams of Fairyland. - - - - -GOLDEN DAYS IN SLOWVILLE - - - These are golden days in Slowville; there is gladness up and down; - For they’re sticking circus posters ’round the little country town. - Flaming sheets of red and yellow on its every barn and fence - Tell of wonders aggregated disregardful of expense. - Tell of wildernesses threaded for the fierce Bigrigmajig; - Tell of jungle-beasts made captive and of marvels small and big, - “In a most stupendous spectacle of splendor and renown,” - Say the flaming circus posters in the little country town. - - They have wielded monster brushes from the dewy hours of morn, - They have covered half of Jones’s barn with grandeur heaven-born; - They have pictured fluffy ladies on the backs of dashing steeds, - They have ornamented Slowville with a wealth of daring deeds; - They have left a Ripperumptus on the back of Robbin’s fence, - Captured in the wilds of Africa at marvelous expense; - They’ve a retinue of big-eyed lads as they move up and down - When they put up circus posters in the little country town. - - Oh! the multicolored marvels done in wonder-rousing haste - With a broad red barn for background and no means but brush and paste. - “Hi, there, Jimmy! See the monkeys!” All the air is shrill with cries - As the likenesses of wild beasts are upreared in gorgeous dyes; - There’s the fierce Ornithorinktus and the dreadful Whatisnot, - The blood-sweating Crinklawoozum and the awful Bingleswat. - Tent and sideshow, flag and streamer, elephant, parade, and clown-- - Oh! they’re sticking circus posters ’round the little country town. - - These are sleepless nights in Slowville; sleepless nights and anxious days; - There’s a hoarding of stray pennies got in half a hundred ways; - There are lads in wonder raptured; open-mouthed, with bulging eyes, - Where the marvelous menageries from gorgeous posters rise; - Oh! there’s glory, glory, glory in the chariots arrayed, - There’s rapture in the promise of the splendorous parade; - And new life has come to Slowville and is surging up and down - Since they put up circus posters in the little country town. - - - - -THE HEART OF A CHILD - - - Give me thy happy heart, Oh little child! - Where love springs like the sweetest flower, wild, - From all its virgin soil, and radiantly - Reflects its fresh, unsullied purity. - - Give me thy heart, that knows not heat or hate, - Nor passion thrills, nor grief makes desolate, - When love, lone, reigned, and Life but smiled and smiled, - Give me thy spotless heart, Oh little child! - - Give me thine artless tongue that to deceive - Knows not; but lisps to laugh and wakes to weave - In whispered words diviner melody - Of love than speaks in grandest symphony. - - Give me thine eyes that see but happiness, - Nor aught of else in all the hours that bless - Thy childhood time, nor any graver ray - Than the glad sunshine of an endless day. - - Would we could cleanse our hearts and make them young, - As when were sweeter chimes of childhood rung - From them, and when were flowers springing wild - From the untrampled soil, Oh little child! - - - - -THE STRENUOUS LIFE - - - That is your father, dear - Just going out the door; - Oh, he’s been living here - For seven years or more! - In business he’s so deep - He has no time to fret - With little girls, but keep - Up hope--we’ll meet him yet! - - That is your mother, dear, - Just getting in the car, - She knows that you are here - And also who you are! - But what with clubs to meet - And bridge to play, you see, - With hours so short and fleet - She’s turned you o’er to me. - - But there, my dear, don’t fret, - Or let those blue eyes blur, - Some time I know you’ll get - Acquainted, too, with her. - Why, sometimes, in the night - When angels vigil keep, - She asks if you’re all right - And when you went to sleep! - - I think you’d like them both, - I think they’d both like you, - But what with “higher growth” - And many things to do - They’re simply rushed to death, - But there, my dear, don’t cry, - If they should stop for breath - We’ll meet them bye and bye. - - - - -A SONG OF MOTHERHOOD - - - Sew, sew, sew! For there’s many a rent to mend; - There’s a stitch to take and a dress to make, - For where do her labors end? - Sew, sew, sew! For a rent in a dress she spies, - Then it’s needle and thread and an aching head - And see how the needle flies! - - Brush, brush, brush! For there’s many a boy to clean, - And start to school with a slate and rule, - With a breakfast to get between. - Comb, comb, comb! In the minute she has to spare, - For what is so wild--unreconciled - As the wastes of a youngster’s hair? - - Sweep, sweep, sweep! Oh, follow the flashing broom, - And with towel bound her forehead round - She goes from room to room. - Dust, dust, dust! As down on her knees she kneels, - For there’s much to do in the hour or two - Of interval ’twixt meals. - - Bake, bake, bake! For the cookie jar piled high - But yesterday in some curious way - Is empty again, Oh my! - Stir, stir, stir, in the froth of yellow and white, - For well she knows how the story goes - Of a small boy’s appetite. - - Scrub, scrub, scrub! For the floor that was spick and span, - Alas, alack! has a muddy track - Where some thoughtless youngster ran. - Splash, splash, splash! For the dishes of thrice a day - Are piled up high to wash and dry - And put on the shelves away. - - Patch, patch, patch! And oh for a pantaloon - That would not tear or rip or wear - In the course of an afternoon! - Patch, patch, patch! And see how the needle flies, - For a mother knows how the fabric goes - Where the seat of trouble lies. - - Toil, toil, toil! For when do her labors end, - With a dress to make and a cake to bake - And dresses and hose to mend? - Stew, stew, stew! Fret and worry and fuss, - And who of us knows of the frets and woes - In the days when she mothered us? - - - - -YOUTH - - - Don’t you recall when apples grew, - Oh, twice as big as now? - When fish, however they were few, - Were monster ones somehow? - When Gaines’s mill-dam made a roar - As though the water hurled - Were gathered in a mighty store - From all the wide, wide world? - - Don’t you remember when the trees, - The oak trees and the beech, - Were lost in clouds on days like these - And eyes could hardly reach - Their waving tops? When noonday skies - Were oh, such deeper blue? - When Jack’s great bean stalk in our eyes - Just grew and grew and grew? - - And there were bells, so more than fine, - Of blue and white and red, - Upon the morning glory vine - That climbed up on the shed, - To be a wonder and delight, - So fresh and full of dew, - To bud and open in a night night-- - I see them now--don’t you? - - Don’t you remember when the caves - Were thick and full of gloom, - Where captive maidens, once, like slaves, - Were chained in some damp room? - When twilight rustling in the brush - Was some fierce beast? A cow - It was, but cows at dusk are--Hush! - I think I hear one now. - - Come, take a little trip with me, - Forget the things that fret, - For you may close your eyes and see - Some things that I forget. - Why, I’ve seen Bluebeard’s hidden room - And Cinderella’s shoe! - And I have seen where violets bloom bloom-- - So blue! So blue! So blue! - - - - -AFTER THE YEARS - - - When you went back to the old home place had the mountain become a hill? - Had the raging river your boyhood knew shrunk down to a peaceful rill? - Were the monster trees in the old front yard but half of their former size? - Was something gone--and you don’t know what what--from the blue of - the arching skies? - Was the swimming-hole but a muddy pool when once it was crystal clear? - Were the apples but half as big and red as they were in that other year? - - When you went back to the old home place did the red barn seem so small - It didn’t look like the one you’d known? Was the mighty waterfall - That used to roar in your boyish ears but a little dash of spray - That fell so light you could hardly hear a dozen feet away? - Were the corn rows only half as long as they were in the long ago, - When you measured them with aching arms and the weight of a heavy hoe? - - When you went back to the old home place had the mill pond dwindled down? - Was Main Street only a muddy track in the heart of a sleepy town? - And the well that was fathoms, fathoms deep, with its wheel and creaking - chain, - Did it seem to you like a shrunken thing when you looked at it again? - Was something gone of the bygone days, from the sod and the arch of sky - That we used to see when we played as boys in the old days--you and I? - - Nay, Heart, the mountain rises high as it did of yore; the rill - Was a river once and the boys near by see a raging river still. - The well is fathoms, fathoms deep and the apples ripe and red; - The sod is cool and green and soft, and the sky up overhead - Is blue and clear, and the days are rare and glad as they used to be-- - But where is the Heart of the olden time--hast thou brought it back with - thee? - - - - -A VERSE TO MEMORY - - - Now Memory, like a little child, - Takes me by one soft hand, - By dreams of keen delight beguiled - We stray through Flowerland; - And like the child, sweet Memory - By many a by-way strays, - Plucks flowers and bears them back to me - To fashion my bouquets. - - By many sweet, secluded ways - She wanders, far or near; - A rose upon my garland lays - Bejeweled with a tear; - The rose of some far-flown ideal, - A fragrance, ah, how rare! - My fingers close but to reveal - The ashes crumbling there. - - Now tinkling laughter ripples clear - As some new flower she spies, - Some far-forgotten joys appear - As fairy faces rise. - My thoughts in revel, flower-wreathed, - Heart-full, my garlands lie, - While on the scented air is breathed - A greeting and good-bye. - - Come, Child, away! The frolic ends, - The flower in ashes, dead; - The perfume with the air that blends - We’ll bear away instead. - Here at the hedge we kiss and part, - Some sterner duties find. - Bear all the sweetness in the heart - But leave the flowers behind. - - Thank God, thank God for Memory, - Half smile and half a tear; - The flowers are there eternally, - And when the days are drear, - In through the tangled hedge of days - We wander, hand in hand, - And I may dream, while Memory strays, - A child is Flowerland. - - - - -LEST I FORGET - - - When from my earliest abode in boyhood’s merry days I strode, - Oh, well do I remember how my mother came--I see her now-- - And, standing in the old front door, repeated to me o’er and o’er: - - “Oh, William, don’t do this and that, and William, wear your other hat. - Please, William, don’t forget my note, and William, wear your overcoat. - And William, hurry on your way, or you’ll be late to school today.” - And far and long as I could hear her admonitions to my ear - Came floating on, repeated yet, lest I forget, lest I forget. - - When from my lessons, shirked or done, came homeward I at waning sun, - Oh, well do I remember how my mother came--I see her now-- - And greeted me at that front door with admonitions o’er and o’er: - - “Oh, William, don’t do this and that, and wipe your feet upon the mat, - And do not slam the door and wake the baby, William, and please take - This package down to Howe and Hatch and tell them that it doesn’t match, - And don’t forget to hurry back, because the kitchen fire is slack”; - And far and long as I could hear her admonitions to my ear - Come floating on, repeated yet, lest I forget, lest I forget. - - I’m married now--at man’s estate, and yet, quite mournful to relate, - My wife it is who, as before, comes with me to the new front door, - And standing there, bombards me for a block or two, and o’er and o’er: - - “Oh, William, don’t you wet your feet, and William, don’t forget the meat, - And William, don’t forget to mail my letter promptly, and don’t fail - To pay the ice bill, order wood; and William, would you be so good - As to stop in at Jones’s store and get a bit of ribbon for - The baby’s hair?”--and so ’tis yet--lest I forget--lest I forget! - - - - -ECHO OF A SONG - - - To my fancy, idly roaming, comes a picture of the gloaming, - Comes a fragrance from the blossoms of the lilac and the rose; - With the yellow lamplight streaming I am sitting here and dreaming - Of a half-forgotten twilight whence a mellow memory flows; - To my listening ears come winging vagrant notes of woman’s singing, - I’ve a sense of sweet contentment as the sounds are borne along; - ’Tis a mother who is tuning her fond heart to love and crooning - To her laddie such a - Sleepy little, - Creepy little, - Song. - - Ah, how well do I remember when by crackling spark and ember - The old-fashioned oaken rocker moved with rhythmic sweep and slow; - With her feet upon the fender, in a cadence low and tender, - Floated forth that slumber anthem of a childhood long ago. - There were goblins in the gloaming and the half-closed eyes went roaming - Through the twilight for the ghostly shapes of bugaboos along; - Now the sandman’s slyly creeping and a tired lad half sleeping - When she sings to him that - Sleepy little, - Creepy little, - Song. - - I am sitting here and dreaming with the mellow lamplight streaming - Through the vine-embowered window in a yellow filigree; - On the fragrant air come winging vagrant notes of woman’s singing, - ’Tis the slumber song of childhood that is murmuring to me; - And some subtle fancy creeping lulls my senses half to sleeping - As the misty shapes of bugaboos go dreamily along, - All my sorrows disappearing, as a tired lad I’m hearing - Once again my mother’s - Sleepy little, - Creepy little, - Song. - - - - -LOVERS’ LANE - - - How good to remember Life’s June from September, - The days that were fairer than ever again; - When hearts held no sorrow to last o’er the morrow - And heads were brimful of the wisdom of ten; - No skies were e’er bluer, no heart was e’er truer - Than mine when I waited in sunshine or rain - With joy that enriched me for one who bewitched me - And bade me to wait till she came down the lane. - - Our trysting-place gaining, my eyes they were straining - Afar down the road, and my lips hummed a tune - That held all the sweetness of first love’s completeness - The whiles that I waited at morning and noon; - For last when we parted, beloved, fond hearted, - She pledged me to wait for her, sunshine or rain, - And so I kept humming, I knew she was coming, - A girl queen in gingham, somewhere down the lane. - - And there with a vision of futures Elysian - I traced both our names with my toe in the dust, - And not a temptation could alter my station - As knight of the faithful heart, true to its trust. - -[Illustration: LOVER’S LANE] - - With ecstasy thrilling, I heard a far trilling - So sweeter than bird song, and heard it again, - The heart of the maiden, care-free and joy-laden, - Was borne on the music I heard down the lane. - - Ah, who knows the story of Life and its glory, - The unending bliss of the days that were then; - And who knows the sweetness of first love’s completeness - Who has not the wisdom of thirteen and ten? - For back went a trilling to her that was spilling - Its burden of gladness through all of the air, - With infinite yearning her message returning - To show I was true and awaited her there. - - Oh, hearts that are older, what secrets I told her! - What dreams of the future, of grown girl and boy! - For what of the weather, when two walk together - The pathway to school in the heyday of joy? - When hours are but measures of innocent pleasures, - When days brim with gladness, as winecups to drain, - When Life learns the sweetness of first love’s completeness - In waiting for Her as she comes down the lane! - - - - -DADDY KNOWS - - - Let us dry our tears now, laddie, - Let us put aside our woes; - Let us go and talk to daddy, - For I’m sure that daddy knows. - Let us take him what we’ve broken, - Be it heart or hope or toy, - And the tale may bide unspoken, - For he used to be a boy. - - He has been through all the sorrows - Of a lad at nine or ten; - He has seen the dawn of morrows - When the sun shone bright again; - His own heart has been near breaking, - Oh, more times than I can tell, - And has often known the aching - That a boy’s heart knows so well. - - I am sure he well remembers, - In his calendar of days, - When the boy-heart was December’s, - Though the sun and flowers were May’s. - He has lived a boy’s life, laddie, - And he knows just how it goes; - Let us go and talk to daddy, - For I’m sure that daddy knows. - - Let us tell him all about it, - How the sting of it is there, - And I have not any doubt it - Will be easier to bear; - For he’s trodden every byway, - He has fathomed every joy, - He has traveled every highway - In the wide world of a boy. - - He will put aside the worries - That his day may follow through, - For the great heart of him hurries - At the call for help from you. - He will help us mend the broken - Heart of ours or hope or toy, - And the tale may bide unspoken-- - For he used to be a boy. - - - - -TO CHILDREN AT THE HEARTH - - - It is you, my dears, and the gladness - You bring to the tasks to do, - Who can lessen this old world’s sadness - By as much as the joy of you. - It is you, my dears, and your glory - Of sunshine and word and song - Who can make life a sweeter story - Wherever you smile along. - - It is you, my dears, with your beauty - And freshness of mind and heart - Who must offer your share of duty - And play yet a nobler part. - For the world, it has need of beauty - And youth that is fine and new, - And the call you may hear to duty - Is for you, my dears--just you. - - It is you, my dears, that the sages - Have written their counsels to, - It is you, my dears, that the ages - Leave legacies to--just you. - And remember that every letter - That Wisdom has graven through - The years, so the world be better, - Is for you, my dears--just you. - - It is you who must be the bravest - To fight, if the cause be true; - It is you who must be the gravest - In word and in deed--just you. - It is you who must be the strongest - To stand till the battle’s through, - And you who must smile the longest - And never despair--just you. - - It is you, my dears, and your glory - Of gladness and youth and smile, - Who shall help to say if the story - Of life and the world’s worth while. - For the years of all time have shaped us, - And the lore of the Ages, too, - And to say if the Truth’s escaped us - Is for you, my dears--just you. - - - - -A TOAST TO THE SMALL BOY - - - He knows the vagrant country roads - Where sleepily they wind; - He has his pockets full of toads, - His smile is broad and kind; - His dreams of lands and seas--who knows? - His joys are never still, - And whistling through the world he goes, - The rugged small boy--Bill! - - His world is full of song and shine, - His days are all his own; - His nights are full of plans so fine - That youngsters all have known; - With all the joy that health can give - His ruddy pulses thrill, - And, bless me, how he loves to live, - This rugged small boy--Bill! - - His trousers know the ample patch, - His shoes gape at the toes, - But see him gladly toe the scratch - For any chum he knows; - The heart of him is good as gold, - And songs of gladness spill - From his red lips, this sunny-souled - And rugged small boy--Bill! - - His scratch-scarred legs are never tired, - His eyes bright-souled and starred, - His heart with hopeful youth is fired, - His sunny soul unscarred; - The world is his, the fields, the trees, - The brook, the wood, the hill, - To do his will, as he may please, - This rugged small boy--Bill! - - He knows the song of life by heart, - In fancy he may weave - Such dreams as make the pulses start, - A King of Make-Believe; - And when I speak with him I hear - Truth ripple like a rill - From him, and gladness and good cheer, - This rugged small boy--Bill! - - Oh, bide thee, bide thee, overlong, - Health, happiness, and youth; - Be glad thy heart and light thy song - And pure and clear thy truth! - Nor cloud to dim thy sunny ways, - Nor aught to bring thee ill, - And year on year of perfect days, - My rugged small boy--Bill! - - - - -AN ADVENTUROUS DAY - - - One time in vacation we boys all left town - To stay in the country for Sunday; and down - By Deacon Gray’s pasture a rabbit came out - Right close to the highway and looked all about - Until it saw us and it started to run - Right down the highroad like a shot from a gun; - So Billy Beggs threw off his coat and his hat - And chased it till both of its ears were down flat, - And, my, it just ran as if it saw a ghost, - And Bill ran so fast that he caught it--almost! - - And under the bridge where it crosses the creek - We saw some fish swimming and darting as quick - As a flash in the water, and one fish would flop - Himself till he almost would come to the top; - So then we got down on the bridge and we tied - A pin on a string and dropped it down the side - With a bug on the pin, and the fishes would look - While Billy Beggs wiggled the bug on the hook; - And one fish was hungry and came up so close - That Bill gave a jerk and he caught it--almost! - - And over by Skinner’s a big hawk flew by - And lit on a stump that was not very high, - But didn’t see us and we crawled up quite slow - Through the grass to the stump with a big stone to throw; - And Billy Beggs said that the hawk was asleep - For it never stirred once; and the grass was so deep - That we got to within a few feet from the stump, - And Billy Beggs peeked, and his heart gave a thump; - And when he got ever and ever so close - He stood up and threw and he hit it--almost! - - And then it got cloudy and thundered and then - It lightened just awful and thundered again; - It rained some big drops and we started to run - To get in the barn till the shower was done; - And lightning just spattered and crackled and flashed - And we were all scared as could be, and we splashed - All through mud and water, and then a big crack - Of lightning came down and Bill Beggs hollered back - From ’way up ahead, just as pale as a ghost, - And said that last lightning had struck him--almost! - - And over by Griggs’s somebody came out - And hollered to us when we’re all just about - So tired we could drop, and they took us right in - By the big kitchen fire ’cause we’re wet to the skin; - And Mrs. Griggs gave us some blankets to wear - While all of our clothes were hung over a chair; - And she made some tea till she got us warmed through - And then the storm stopped and the sky got all blue; - And Billy Beggs told her the flash came so close - That he ’membered the whole of the Lord’s Prayer--almost! - - - - -POEM OF THE FORAGERS - - - School’s out, and homeward with the ebbing day - They come--Tom Jones, Jim Brooks and Eddie Gray; - And half a million others far or near, - Not much unlike the boys I know right here; - With empty dinnerpails and schoolbooks slung - Across their shoulders by a strap. The tongue - Of boyhood at the kitchen door gives cry: - “Ma, can’t I have a doughnut, or some pie?” - For, say, the appetite of boys is prime - And cannot be content till suppertime. - - ’Tis four o’clock, and I can hear them go-- - A million youngsters--homeward, fast and slow; - The drowsy schoolroom clock has dragged its hands - Across its face until Time’s signal stands - At long-awaited four--that blessed hour - When schoolbooks close and teachers lose the power - That despot rulers have--and flags unfurled - Lead schoolboy armies to a waiting world! - And up the back steps bound returning feet: - “Ma, can’t I go and get a bite to eat?” - - School’s out--what ransacking of cooky jars! - What letting down of pantry gates and bars! - What dipping into barrels here and there, - With heads far down and feet high up in air, - For Winesaps, Baldwins, Pippins! What a charge - Upon the jars of jam and loaves baked large - And round and brown--what a tumultuous cry: - “Ma, can’t I have a little piece of pie?” - And so this schoolboy army waxes fat - Upon its foraged commissariat! - - -Thanks are due to the Editors of The Saturday Evening Post, The Century -Magazine, The New York Times, and The Youth’s Companion, in which papers -the greater number of these verses originally appeared, for permission -to reprint. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Boys and Girls, by James W. Foley - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOYS AND GIRLS *** - -***** This file should be named 63514-0.txt or 63514-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/1/63514/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Sharon Joiner, Chuck Greif -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/63514-0.zip b/old/63514-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d00ead8..0000000 --- a/old/63514-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h.zip b/old/63514-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7f3a159..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/63514-h.htm b/old/63514-h/63514-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 05c9564..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/63514-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6155 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Boys and Girls, by James W. Foley. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -big {font-size: 130%;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.bbox {border:double 6px black; -margin:1em auto;max-width:50%;} - -.blk {margin:2% 20% 2% 20%} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.caption {font-weight:normal;} -.caption p{font-size:75%;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.cspc {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;letter-spacing:.1em; -font-size:80%;} - -.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; -text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:120%;font-weight:normal;} - - hr {width:100%;margin:2em auto;clear:both;color:black; -border:1px solid black;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.lftspc {margin-left:.25em;} - -.letra {font-size:250%;float:left;margin-top:-2%;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -@media print, handheld -{.pagenum - {display: none;} - } - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - -table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:100%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i15 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -.poem span.ig { -margin:auto auto;} - -.poem span.ih { -margin:auto .1em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Boys and Girls, by James W. Foley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Boys and Girls - The Verses of James W. Foley - -Author: James W. Foley - -Release Date: October 21, 2020 [EBook #63514] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOYS AND GIRLS *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Sharon Joiner, Chuck Greif -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="c">THE VERSES OF<br /> -JAMES W. FOLEY</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_i" id="page_i">{i}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span> </p> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_001" id="ill_001"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_frontis.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>SONG OF SUMMER DAYS</p></div> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> -<h1>BOYS AND GIRLS</h1> -<hr /> -<p class="c"><big>THE VERSES OF<br /> -JAMES W. FOLEY</big></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c" style="margin:3em auto;"><img src="images/colophon.png" -width="100" -alt="" -/></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="cb">NEW YORK<br /> -E·P·DUTTON & COMPANY<br /> -PUBLISHERS</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span> </p> - -<p class="cspc">COPYRIGHT, 1905, 1907, 1909, 1910, 1911<br /> -BY JAMES W. FOLEY<br /> -———<br /> -COPYRIGHT, 1913<br /> -BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -THE·PLIMPTON·PRESS<br /> -NORWOOD·MASS·U·S·A·<br /></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span> </p> - -<p class="cb">TO MY WIFE</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="02" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span> -<a href="#AWAY">Away</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_3">3</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_RECIPROCITY_OF_SMILES">The Reciprocity of Smiles</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_5">5</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_DOMESTIC_RIPPLE">A Domestic Ripple</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_7">7</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_ADAMSS_BOYS">The Adams’s Boys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_9">9</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#BILLY_PEEBLES_CHRISTMAS">Billy Peeble’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_WAY_HE_USED_TO_DO">The Way He Used to Do</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_16">16</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_BOYS_VACATION_TIME">A Boy’s Vacation Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_BOYS_CHOICE">A Boy’s Choice</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_DISCOURAGED_KINDERGARTNER">A Discouraged Kindergartner</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_DELUSION_OF_GHOSTS">The Delusion of Ghosts</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_STORY_OF_SELF-SACRIFICE">A Story of Self-Sacrifice</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LOST_CHILD">The Lost Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#DOUGHNUTTING_TIME">Doughnutting Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_MODERN_MIRACLE">A Modern Miracle</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#NERVOUSTOWN">Nervoustown</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#SONG_OF_SUMMER_DAYS">Song of Summer Days</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#WHAT_MOTHER_DOESNT_KNOW">What Mother Doesn’t Know</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_37">37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#SO_LONESOME_NOW">So Lonesome Now</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_LITTLE_LOVE_STORY">A Little Love Story</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#ON_A_NOISELESS_FOURTH">On a Noiseless Fourth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#CONSCIOUS_IGNORANCE">Conscious Ignorance</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_PLAYTIME_OF_BACHELOR_BILL">The Playtime of Bachelor Bill</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#HOW_HENRY_BLAKE_KNOWS">How Henry Blake Knows</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LAND_OF_BLOW_BUBBLES">The Land of Blow Bubbles</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_GINGERCAKE_MAN">The Gingercake Man</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LONESOME">Lonesome</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_GARDEN_OF_PLAY">The Garden of Play</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#WE_AINT_SCARED_O_PA">We Ain’t Scared of Pa</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_PEARL_OF_PRICE">A Pearl of Price</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ix" id="page_ix">{ix}</a></span> -<a href="#DEAR_LITTLE_QUEER_LITTLE_MAN">Dear Little, Queer Little Man</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#GIRL_OF_MINE">Girl of Mine</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#CHUMS">Chums</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LOST_BOY">The Lost Boy</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LINES_TO_A_BABY_GIRL">Lines to a Baby Girl</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LITTLE_MISCHEFUSS">Little Mischefuss</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_73">73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_TRAVELS_OF_MORTIMER_BROWN">The Travels of Mortimer Brown</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#ADVENTURERS_THREE">Adventurers Three</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_77">77</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#WHEN_THEY_LOVE_YOU_SO">When They Love You So</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_79">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#SOMEBODY_DID">Somebody Did</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_WADERS">The Waders</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THEN_THE_PRISONED_PUPIL">The Prisoned Pupil</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_PRAYER_FOR_JIMMY_BANKS">A Prayer for Jimmy Banks</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_CHILDS_CHRISTMAS_PRAYER">A Child’s Christmas Prayer</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#HENRY_BLAKES_CHUM">Henry Blake’s Chum</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_91">91</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#ONCE_UPON_A_TIME">Once Upon a Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_93">93</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_WAY_TO_SCHOOL">The Way to School</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_PRESENT_FOR_LITTLE_BOY_BLUE">A Present for Little Boy Blue</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_EVOLUTION_OF_AN_ADOPTION">The Evolution of an Adoption</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#SOME_GIRLS_THAT_MAMMA_KNEW">Some Girls that Mamma Knew</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#GONE">Gone</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_NEIGHBORS_BOYS">The Neighbor’s Boys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_104">104</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_QUIET_AFTERNOON">A Quiet Afternoon</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_OWNERLESS_TOYS">The Ownerless Toys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_108">108</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_STRANGER">The Stranger</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_110">110</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#IN_VACATION_TIME">In Vacation Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_112">112</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#BEREAVED">Bereaved</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_114">114</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#TWO_LITTLE_MAIDS">Two Little Maids</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_117">117</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_NEW_CHRISTMAS_CAROL">A New Christmas Carol</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_RECONCILIATION_OF_PA">The Reconciliation of Pa</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_120">120</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_WORLD_WITHOUT_CARE">A World without Care</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_122">122</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#RIGHT_AFTER_SCHOOL">Right After School</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_124">124</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_PLEA_FOR_OLD_FRIENDS">A Plea for Old Friends</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_127">127</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BOYVILLE_CADETS">The Boyville Cadets</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_129">129</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_LITTLE_BOY_I_KNOW">A Little Boy I Know</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#ASLEEP_AT_THE_CIRCUS">Asleep at the Circus</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_135">135</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BARRIERS">The Barriers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_137">137</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_PLAINT_OF_THE_NEW_DOLL">The Plaint of the New Doll</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_139">139</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_CHILDS_ALMANAC">A Child’s Almanac</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_141">141</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LOSER">The Loser</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#BACK_TO_SCHOOL">Back to School</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_146">146</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#DISENCHANTMENTS">Disenchantments</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_148">148</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_RAINY_NIGHT">A Rainy Night</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_150">150</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#KITCHEN_MIRACLES">Kitchen Miracles</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_152">152</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#JIM_BRADYS_BIG_BROTHER">Jim Brady’s Big Brother</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_154">154</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_SCAPEGOAT">The Scapegoat</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_156">156</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_TRAGEDY_OF_CENTER_FIELD">A Tragedy of Center Field</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_158">158</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#IN_SWIMMING">In Swimming</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_161">161</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#AN_UNUSUAL_CHUM">An Unusual Chum</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_163">163</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#AND_JUST_THEN">And Just Then</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_164">164</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#AFTERWARD">Afterwards</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_167">167</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#CIRCUS_DAY">Circus Day</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_168">168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_TOUR_OF_A_SMILE">The Tour of a Smile</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_170">170</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#WHEN_GRANDPA_PLAYS">When Grandpa Plays</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_172">172</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_PARTED_WAYS">The Parted Ways</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_175">175</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_MESSAGE_HOME">A Message Home</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_177">177</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LULLABY">Lullaby</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_180">180</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#DISGUISING_TOIL">Disguising Toil</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_182">182</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LITTLE_GIRL_WITH_THE_CURLS">Little Girl with the Curls</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_185">185</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#MY_WONDERFUL_DAD">My Wonderful Dad</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_187">187</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#REMEMBRANCES_BILL">Remembrances, Bill</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_190">190</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BEREAVEMENT">The Bereavement</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_192">192</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#IN_CHILDHOOD_TIME">In Childhood Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_194">194</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#DONT">Don’t</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_196">196</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#EXTINGUISHED">Extinguished</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_198">198</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_UNCHEERED_HERO">The Uncheered Hero</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_199">199</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#OLD_HALLOWEEN_FRIENDS">Old Hallowe’en Friends</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_201">201</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_REFUGE_IN_DISTRESS">A Refuge in Distress</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_203">203</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_LOST_HEART">The Lost Heart</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_205">205</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#VERSES_OF_A_LITTLE_CHILD">Verses of a Little Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_208">208</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#GOLDEN_DAYS_IN_SLOWVILLE">Golden Days in Slowville</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_210">210</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_HEART_OF_A_CHILD">The Heart of a Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_213">213</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#THE_STRENUOUS_LIFE">The Strenuous Life</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_214">214</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_SONG_OF_MOTHERHOOD">A Song of Motherhood</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_216">216</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#YOUTH">Youth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_218">218</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#AFTER_THE_YEARS">After the Years</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_220">220</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_VERSE_TO_MEMORY">A Verse to Memory</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_222">222</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LEST_I_FORGET">Lest I Forget</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_224">224</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_x" id="page_x">{x}</a></span> -<a href="#ECHO_OF_A_SONG">Echo of a Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_226">226</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#LOVERS_LANE">Lovers’ Lane</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_228">228</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#DADDY_KNOWS">Daddy Knows</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_230">230</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#TO_CHILDREN_AT_THE_HEARTH">To Children at the Hearth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_232">232</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#A_TOAST_TO_THE_SMALL_BOY">A Toast to the Small Boy</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_234">234</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#AN_ADVENTUROUS_DAY">An Adventurous Day</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_236">236</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top" class="smcap"><a href="#POEM_OF_THE_FORAGERS">Poem of the Foragers</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_238">238</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xi" id="page_xi">{xi}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS<br /> -<small><span class="smcap">by Reginald Birch</span></small></h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_001">Song of Summer Days</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#ill_001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_002">The Adams’s Boys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10"><i>facing page</i> 10</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_003">Billy Peeble’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_14">14</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_004">A Modern Miracle</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_005">A Little Love Story</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_006">The Gingercake Man</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_007">The Waders</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_008">A Prayer for Jimmy Banks</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_009">Once Upon A Time</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_94">94</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_010">The Neighbor’s Boys</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_104">104</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_011">Asleep at the Circus</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_136">136</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_012">In Swimming</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_162">162</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_013">The Parted Ways</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_176">176</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_014">Lullaby</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_180">180</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_015">Verses of a Little Child</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_208">208</a></td></tr> -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ill_016">Lover’s Lane</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_228">228</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_xii" id="page_xii">{xii}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span> </p> - -<h1>BOYS AND GIRLS</h1> - -<h2><a name="AWAY" id="AWAY"></a>AWAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">“I</span> WON’T be long,” the Little Boy said,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">As he clattered him down the stair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And found him a hat for his curly head<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And called to a dog somewhere.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then off like a flash down the shady lane<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a whistle and cry and song;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And back to us ever it came again:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“I won’t be gone very long.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As we saw him among the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eyes all bright and his cheeks all red,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A friend of the birds and bees;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then through the hedges and out of the gate,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For naught in the world goes wrong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a boy of six or seven or eight—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“I won’t be gone very long.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“I’m just going out to play.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the curly dog barked and the two of them sped<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Over the clover away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He waved us a kiss with a little brown hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">And cries rose from here and there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For oh, but a boy does understand<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A dog and the open air!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Don’t wait any supper—you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll just have a bowl of milk and bread<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And my dog he will eat with me.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then he swung his hat on its tangled string<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the curly dog wagged his tail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And romped and played like a boy in spring<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And barked him a comrade’s hail.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh, Mother of him, don’t cry!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The leaves come green again, yellow and red,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the years and the years go by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sometime he’ll come, as we’ve seen him do,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the bark of a dog and a song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For it must be true—oh, it must be true<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That he’ll not be gone very long!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_RECIPROCITY_OF_SMILES" id="THE_RECIPROCITY_OF_SMILES"></a>THE RECIPROCITY OF SMILES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMETIMES I wonder why they smile so pleasantly at me,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And pat my head when they pass by as friendly as can be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I wonder why they stop to tell me How-d’-do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ask me then how old I am and where I’m going to;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ask me can I spare a curl and say they used to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little girl that looked like me, oh, years and years ago;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I told Mamma how they smiled and asked her why they do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So she said if you smile at folks they always smile at you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I never knew I smiled at them when they were going by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I guess it smiled all by itself and that’s the reason why;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I just look up from playing if it’s any one I know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they most always smile at me and maybe say Hello;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I can smile at any one, no matter who or where,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I’m just a little girl with lots of them to spare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Mamma said we ought to smile at folks, and if you do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most always they feel better and they smile right back at you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when so many smile at me and ask me for a curl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It makes me think most everybody likes a little girl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And once when I was playing and a man was going by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He smiled at me and then he rubbed some dust out of his eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because it made it water so, and said he used to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little girl up in his yard who used to smile just so;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then I asked why don’t she now and then he said “You see—”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he rubbed his eye again and only smiled at me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_DOMESTIC_RIPPLE" id="A_DOMESTIC_RIPPLE"></a>A DOMESTIC RIPPLE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OME days my Pa is thist so cross<br /></span> -<span class="ih">’At Ma, she snaps him off an’ said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I guess your father must ’a’ got<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up on th’ wrong side of th’ bed.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en Pa says he’d like to eat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thist bread, he would, in peace once more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Ma, she bu’sts out cryin’ nen<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ Pa goes out an’ slams th’ door—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ ’en I git a spankin’!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thist ’fore he gits his breakfast, Pa<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He never hardly speaks to us,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Ma, she says it shames her so<br /></span> -<span class="i2">T’ have him go an’ make a fuss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before th’ girl. Pa, he don’t care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en he says—“Th’ girl be——!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Ma says—“Oh, t’ think he’d swear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Before his child!” Th’ door gits slammed—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ ’en I git a spankin’!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en, ’em days, th’ littlest things<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I do ’ll almost drive her wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she says “Goodness sakes alive!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was ever such another child?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she says: “Do run out an’ play!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ thist when I git started, nen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She hollers right at me this way:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Willyum! You march right in again!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en I git a spankin’!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ Pa, he don’t come home to lunch<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz Ma, she says he’s too ashamed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To face her after such a scene<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ says she surely can’t be blamed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Pa’s mean, ugly, hateful ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ Ma ain’t got no heart to eat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nen, thist ’cuz I want honey on<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My bread, er jam, er sumpin sweet—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Why nen I git a spankin’!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en, along ’bout supper time<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pa sneaks in thist th’ easiest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You ever see; an’ nen he looks<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For Ma; an’ she’s th’ freeziest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At ever was. An’ Pa, he’s got<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some candy an’ he says he’s ’shamed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ fin’ly Ma says mebbe she<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was also partly to be blamed,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ ’en ’at ends my spankin’!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_ADAMSS_BOYS" id="THE_ADAMSS_BOYS"></a>THE ADAMS’S BOYS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HE Adams’s children, they just romp and play<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And fall out of trees in the carelessest way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And might break their legs from the way that they fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But they get up laughing and not hurt at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cause boys’ bones are soft, so their grandfather said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And John Quincy Adams, he stands on his head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drinks from a dipper, and all over town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boys will tell you how he drinks upside down.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Adams’s children, they make enough noise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the yard where they live for three times as much boys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes they laugh and you hear it as clear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As can be up to Tinker’s and way over here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they’ve got a dog which is almost the same<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the rest of the boys and will play every game,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bark all the time, and he makes so much noise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s just like the rest of the Adams’s boys.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Adams’s children, they go out to ride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a pony of theirs, with them all three astride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the boy up in front makes him kick up and then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boy way behind, he gets thrown off again;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the Adams’s pony, he looks just as though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s trying to laugh when the others laugh so;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It looks like a laugh, but he can’t make a noise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the dog or the rest of the Adams’s boys.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Adams’s children, they go out to play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes their mother don’t see them all day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she never frets, ’cause the world is too small,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So she said, for three boys to get lost in it all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes she listens outdoors and she hears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The laughing and barking way over to Geer’s,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is most half a mile, and she smiles, because then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She knows they’ll be home when they’re hungry again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Adams’s children, they get on as though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were three great chums and not brothers, you know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And folks like to hear them, when they’re going past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the big one ahead and the little one last.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ve always got playmates of their very own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And don’t have to do chores or to study alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything seems to be three times the fun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the Adams’s children as though there’s just one!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_002" id="ill_002"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_010fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_010fp.jpg" height="518" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>THE ADAMS’S BOYS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BILLY_PEEBLES_CHRISTMAS" id="BILLY_PEEBLES_CHRISTMAS"></a>BILLY PEEBLE’S CHRISTMAS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">B</span>ILLY Peeble, he ain’t got no parents—never had none, ’cause<br /></span> -<span class="ih">When he’s borned he was an orfunt; an’ he said ’at Santa Claus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never didn’t leave him nothin’, ’cause he was a county charge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ the overseer told him that his fambly was too large<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To remember orfunt children; so I ast Ma couldn’t we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have Bill Peeble up to our house, so’s to see our Christmas tree.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she ast me if he’s dirty; an’ I said I guessed he was,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I didn’t think it makes no difference with Santa Claus.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My his clo’es was awful ragged! Ma, she put him in a tub<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she poured it full of water, an’ she gave him such a scrub<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At he ’ist set there an’ shivered; an’ he told me afterwurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At he never washed all over out to Overseer Bird’s!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’En she burned his ragged trousies an’ she gave him some of mine;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">My! she rubbed him an’ she scrubbed him till she almost made him shine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nen he ’ist looked all around him like he’s scairt for quite a w’ile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ even w’en Ma’d pat his head he wouldn’t hardly smile.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’En after w’ile Ma took some flour-sacks an’ ’en she laid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Em right down at the fireplace, ’ist ’cause she is afraid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Santa Claus ’ll soil the carpet when he comes down there, you know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Billy Peeble watched her, an’ his eyes stuck out—’ist so!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’En Ma said ’at in the mornin’ if we’d look down on the sacks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At they’d be ’ist full of soot where Santa Claus had made his tracks;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Billy Peeble stood there, lookin’! An’ he told me afterwurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He was scairt he’d wake right up an’ be at Overseer Bird’s.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well, ’en she hung our stockin’s up an’ after w’ile she said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Now, you an’ Billy Peeble better go right off to bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ if you hear a noise tonight, don’t you boys make a sound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cause Santa Claus don’t never come with little boys around!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So me an’ Billy went to bed, an’ Billy Peeble, he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could hardly go to sleep at all—’ist tossed an’ tossed. You see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We had such w’ite sheets on the bed an’ he said afterwurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They never had no sheets at all at Overseer Bird’s.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So we ’ist laid an’ talked an’ talked. An’ Billy ast me who<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was Santa Claus. An’ I said I don’t know if it’s all true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But people say he’s some old man who ’ist loves little boys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ keeps a store at the north pole with heaps an’ heaps of toys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ich he brings down in a big sleigh, with reindeers for his steeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ comes right down the chimbly flue an’ leaves ’ist what you needs.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My! he’s excited w’en I told him that! An’ afterwurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said they never had no toys at Overseer Bird’s.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’m fallin’ pretty near asleep w’en Billy Peeble said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Sh-sh! What’s that noise?” An’ w’en he spoke I set right up in bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till sure enough I heard it in the parlor down below,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Billy Peeble, he set up an’ ’en he said: “Le’s go!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So we got up an’ sneaked down stairs, an’ both of us could see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At it was surely Santa Claus, ’ist like Ma said he’d be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he must heard us comin’ down, because he stopped an’ said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You, Henry Blake an’ William Peeble, go right back to bed!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My goodness, we was awful scairt! An’ both of us was pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Billy Peeble said up stairs: “My! Ain’t he ’ist a whale!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We didn’t hardly dare to talk and got back into bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Billy pulled the counterpane clear up above his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ in the mornin’ w’en we looked down on the flour-sacks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’y sure enough we saw the soot where he had made his tracks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Billy got a suit of clothes, a drum, an’ sled an’ books,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till he ’ist never said a word, but my! how glad he looks!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’En after w’ile it’s dinner time an’ Billy Peeble set<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right next to Pa, an’ my! how he ’ist et an’ et an’ et!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till he ’ist puffed an’ had to leave his second piece of pie<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_003" id="ill_003"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_014fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_014fp.jpg" width="513" height="325" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>BILLY PEEBLE’S CHRISTMAS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">B</span>ECAUSE he couldn’t eat no more. An’ after dinner, w’y,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ma dressed him up in his new clo’es, an Billy Peeble said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s sorry he’s an orfunt, an’ Ma patted Billy’s head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ich made him cry a little bit, an’ he said afterwurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nobody ever pats his head at Overseer Bird’s.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ all day long Pa looked at Ma an’ Ma she looked at him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because, Pa said ’at Billy looked a little bit like Jim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At was my baby brother, but he died oncet, years ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’at’s w’y Billy Peeble makes my mother like him so.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She says ’at Santa brought him as a present, ’ist instead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of little Jim ’at died oncet. So she ’ist put him to bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On Christmas night an’ tucked him in an’ told me afterwurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At he ain’t never goin’ back to Overseer Bird’s.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_WAY_HE_USED_TO_DO" id="THE_WAY_HE_USED_TO_DO"></a>THE WAY HE USED TO DO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMETIMES when I come in at night<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And take my shoes off at the stair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear my Pop turn on the light<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And holler: “William, are you there?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he says: “You go to bed—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I knew that stealthy step was you.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I asked how and then he said:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Cause that’s the way I used to do.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes when I come home at six<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’clock and hurry up my chores,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And get a big armful of sticks<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of wood and bring it all indoors,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Pop he comes and feels my head<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And says: “You’ve been in swimmin’—you!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I asked how he knew, he said:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Cause that’s the way I used to do.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes before a circus comes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When I’m as willing as can be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To do my chores, and all my chums<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They all take turns at helping me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Pop, he pats ’em on the head<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And says: “You like a circus, too?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I asked how he knew, he said:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Cause that’s the way I used to do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lots of times when he gets mad<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Enough to whip me and declares<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He never saw another lad<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like I am—well, at last he spares<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me from a whipping and he lays<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His rawhide down: “I can’t whip you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For that, although I should,” he says,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Cause that’s the way I used to do.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_BOYS_VACATION_TIME" id="A_BOYS_VACATION_TIME"></a>A BOY’S VACATION TIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>AIL, that long-awaited day<br /></span> -<span class="ih">When, the school books laid away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the thoughts of merry youngsters turn from pages back to play!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Done with lesson and with rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Done with teacher and with school,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stray the vagrant hearts of childhood to the tempting wood and pool!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who will tell in rune and rhyme<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the glory and the grime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the dusty lanes and byways of a boy’s vacation time?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hark, the whistle and the cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is piping shrill and high<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the chorus of glad youngsters trooping riotously by!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Say, did sun e’er brightly shine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As when, with his rod and line<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tramps the barefoot lad a-fishing, and the water clear and fine?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet the murmur of the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And what glory now he sees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the chatter of the wild birds and the buzz of bumble-bees!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hear the green woods cry and call,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the Summer to the Fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“We are waiting, waiting, waiting, with a welcome for you all!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear the lads take up the cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With an echo, shrill and high:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“We are coming, coming, coming, for vacation time is nigh!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How the skies are blue and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How the clover scents the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a witchery of fragrance that is delicate and rare!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How the blossoms bud and blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the great waves flood and flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the ocean of boy happiness, like billows, to and fro!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, my heart goes back and sighs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the piping calls and cries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the hearts of merry youngsters like a song of triumph rise!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I would that rune and rhyme<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might be splendid and sublime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In my heart to tell the story of a boy’s vacation time!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_BOYS_CHOICE" id="A_BOYS_CHOICE"></a>A BOY’S CHOICE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>’D ruther take a w’ippin’ ’an a scoldin’ any day,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">’Cuz a w’ippin’ makes you tingle, but you go right out an’ play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ after w’ile you’re over it an’ ’en at dinner, w’y,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your mother’s awful sorry an’ she brings a piece of pie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ says she hates to do it, ’cuz it hurts her ’ist as bad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As it does anybody w’en she w’ips her little lad.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en at night she kisses you an’ puts you into bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ tucks the covers in an’ says you’re Mamma’s Turly-head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! she’s ’ist so lovely! An’ she sits beside of you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist ’cuz she feels so sorry over w’at she had to do.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en she leaves the candle burn an’ says for you to call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If you want anything from her, an’ you ain’t scairt at all!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But w’en you get a scoldin’ she don’t never bring you pie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Becuz you’ll surely break her heart; an’ ’en she starts to cry;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! you feel so sorry, an’ you wisht she wouldn’t, ’cuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It shows you how you’ve grieved her an’ how turble bad you wuz.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ all day long she never smiles; an’ w’en you go to bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She never leaves the candle burn or calls you Turly-head.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ sometimes you see big, w’ite things a-lookin’ at your bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At makes you scairt an’ pull the covers up above your head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en you s’pose how would you feel if Mamma wuz to die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ biumby you feel so bad ’at you ’ist start to cry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So w’en she looks at you so hurt an’ talks to you ’at way—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d ruther take a w’ippin’ ’an a scoldin’ any day!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_DISCOURAGED_KINDERGARTNER" id="A_DISCOURAGED_KINDERGARTNER"></a>A DISCOURAGED KINDERGARTNER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">’I</span>S mornin’ mamma told me<br /></span> -<span class="ih">’At I mus’ be awful dood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tuz I’m startin’ on my schooldays<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I promised her I would.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I’m awful much ’iscouraged<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tuz I tried so hard to det<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the lessons teacher gave me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But I tant read yet!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My! it’s awful long till dinner,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I couldn’t hardly wait<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wen I dot done wif my letters<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I wrote ’em on my slate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ I’m ’shamed to tell my mamma<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’At I dess she’ll have to let<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me go back again tomorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tuz I tant read yet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She’ll be awful disappointed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tuz I’ve been there half a day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she’ll think I didn’t study<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or it wouldn’t be that way.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I don’t s’pose I tan help it,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ it does no dood to fret,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tuz I’ve been to school all mornin’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I tant read yet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I dess our teacher’s stupid,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tuz she didn’t seem to care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’en I went right up an’ told her<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were she’s sittin’ in her chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At I’m awful much ’iscouraged<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ my Mamma she would fret<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tuz I’ve been to school all mornin’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I tant read yet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en she started laughin’,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It’s as true as I’m alive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ast how old I am, an’ ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I told her half past five,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en she tame an’ tissed me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tuz my eyes are dettin’ wet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ told me not to worry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tuz I tant read yet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I dess if she had Mother Goose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She’d be ’isturbed herself,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If she ’ud go an’ det it<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down f’m off th’ lib’ry shelf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en w’en it is open,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I dess she’s apt to fret<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If she’s been to school all mornin’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ she tant read yet!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_DELUSION_OF_GHOSTS" id="THE_DELUSION_OF_GHOSTS"></a>THE DELUSION OF GHOSTS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMETIMES when I got to do errands at night<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ th’ moon is all dark an’ th’ ain’t any light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ th’ wind, when it blows, makes a shivery sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ everything seems awful still all around;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes when a hoot-owl goes “Woo-oo-oo-oo!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My legs feel so funny; I’m all goose-flesh, too.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ maybe I’m startled when I hear it call,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I ain’t a bit scairt; I’m thes’ nervous, that’s all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oncet me an’ Joe Simpson wuz walkin’ one night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A’ past th’ old graveyard, an’ saw somethin’ white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Et looked like a ghost, standin’ right in th’ road,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my, Joe wuz scairt! ’Cuz he said ’et he knowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It wuz surely a ghost; an’ I wisseled, becuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When you wissel you scare ’em; an’ all that it wuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wuz a great, big, white cow; an’ it thes’ walked away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ I wuzn’t no more scairt ’n if it wuz day!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Cuz I don’t b’lieve in ghosts, an’ I’d thes’ as lieve go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A’ past any graveyard an’ walk awful slow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ wissel, an’ sit on th’ top of th’ fence,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz th’ ain’t any ghosts if you got any sense.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ when we saw that big white thing by th’ road<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Et Joe wuz so scairt of, I wuzn’t. I knowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All th’ time it’s no ghost. I wuz nervous becuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I knowed what it wuzn’t, but not what it wuz!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_STORY_OF_SELF-SACRIFICE" id="A_STORY_OF_SELF-SACRIFICE"></a>A STORY OF SELF-SACRIFICE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">P</span>OP took me to the circus ’cause it disappoints me so<br /></span> -<span class="ih">To have to stay at home, although he doesn’t care to go;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s seen it all so many times, the wagons and the tents;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cages of wild animals and herds of elephants;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This morning he went down with me to watch the big parade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He was so dreadful busy that he oughtn’t to have stayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said he’d seen it all before and all the reason he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went down and watched it coming was because it’s new to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then we walked to the circus grounds and Pop he says: “I guess<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You want a glass of lemonade, of course,” and I says: “Yes.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he bought one for each of us, and when he drank his he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Told me he drank it only just to keep me company;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he says, “The sideshow is, I s’pose, the same old sell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But everybody’s goin’ in, so we might just as well.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said he’d seen it all before, and all the reason he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went in and saw it was because it was all new to me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well, by and by we both came out and went in the big tent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And saw the lions and tigers and the bigges’ elephant<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With chains on his front corner and an awful funny nose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That looks around for peanuts that the crowd of people throws;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Pop, he bought some peanuts and it curled its nose around<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until it found most every one that he threw on the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said he’d seen it all before, and all the reason he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stayed there and threw ’em was because it was all new to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well, then the band began to play the liveliestest tune,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Pop, he says he guessed the show would open pretty soon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So we went in the other tent, and Pop, he says to me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I guess we’ll get some reserved seats so you will surely see.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then some lovely ladies came and stood there on the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And jumped up on the horses while the horses ran around;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pop said he’d seen it all before, and all the reason he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looked at the ladies was because it was all new to me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well, finally it’s over, but a man came out to say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That they’re going to have a concert, and Pop said we’d better stay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said they’re always just the same and always such a sell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But lots of folks was staying and he guessed we might as well.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then by and by we’re home again, and Mamma wants to know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What kind of circus was it, and Pop said, “The same old show,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said he’d seen it all before and all the reason he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had stayed and seen it all was ’cause it’s all so new to me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_LOST_CHILD" id="THE_LOST_CHILD"></a>THE LOST CHILD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> ’MEMBER when they cut my curls not very long ago,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Because they looked just like a girl’s, and I’m a boy, you know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I used to wear ’em awful long, and once my Pa, he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s time I had my curls cut off and wore short hair instead;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I’m big enough for that; and then they took the shears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And snipped my curls off one by one right close up to my ears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But every time a curl came off, my Mother, she just hid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her face a little bit and cried. I wonder why she did!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And after while she picked one up and held it in her hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With something shining in her eyes I didn’t understand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She petted it as if it was a little boy or girl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And acted fond of it when it was nothing but a curl.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And after while they’re all cut off and down there on the floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I looked much more like a boy than I had been before,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But there was something in her eyes she tried and tried and tried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To brush away, but still it came. I wonder why she cried.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And after while I’m all trimmed off, and then my Pa, he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m not a baby any more, but I’m a boy instead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he is awful proud of me, and then my Ma, she smiled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said we found a boy that day and lost a little child;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I said I would hunt for him and bring him back but then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She said she was afraid that he would not come back again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And picked the curls I had all up from off the floor and hid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Them in her bureau drawer and cried. I wonder why she did.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DOUGHNUTTING_TIME" id="DOUGHNUTTING_TIME"></a>DOUGHNUTTING TIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>UNST w’en our girl wuz makin’ pies an’ doughnuts—’ist a lot—<br /></span> -<span class="ih">We stood around with great, big eyes, ’cuz we boys like ’em hot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en she dropped ’em in the lard they sizzled ’ist like fun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en she takes ’em out it’s hard to keep from takin’ one.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en she says: “You boys’ll get all spattered up with grease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ biumby she says she’ll let us have ’ist one apiece;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I took one for me an’ one for little James McBride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The widow’s only orfunt son ’at’s waitin’ there outside.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ Henry, he took one ’ist for himself an’ Nellie Flynn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At’s waitin’ at the kitchen door an’ dassent to come in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Becuz her mother told her not, an’ Johnny, he took two,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz Amy Brennan likes ’em hot, ’ist like we chinnern do.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’En Henry happened ’ist to think he didn’t get a one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For little Ebenezer Brink, the carpet beater’s son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who never gets ’em home becuz he says he ain’t quite sure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But thinks perhaps the reason wuz his folkses are too poor.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en I give my own away to little Willie Beggs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At fell way down his stairs one day an’ give him crooked legs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz Willie always seems to know w’en our girl’s goin’ to bake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He wouldn’t ast for none-oh, no! But, my! he’s fond of cake.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So I went back an’ ’en I got another one for me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right out the kettle, smokin’ hot an’ brown as it could be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ John, he got one, too, becuz he give his own to Clare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en our girl, she looked, there wuz ’ist two small doughnuts there!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My! She wuz angry w’en she looked an’ saw ’ist them two there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ says she knew ’at she had cooked a crock full an’ to spare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She says it’s awful ’scouragin’ to bake an’ fret an’ fuss,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en she thinks she’s got ’em in the crock they’re all in us!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_MODERN_MIRACLE" id="A_MODERN_MIRACLE"></a>A MODERN MIRACLE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>NCE w’en I’m sick th’ doctor come<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ ’en I put my tongue ’way out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ he says, “H-m-m! Nurse, get me some<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Warm water, please.” An’ in about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A minute, w’y, she did an’ ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He put a glass thing into it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he wiped it off again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ put it in my mouth a bit.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’En after w’ile he took it out<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ held it up w’ere he could see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he says, “H-m-m! ’Ist about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Too high a half of a degree.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en Ma asked him if I’m bad<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ he says “Nope!” ’ist gruff an’ cross<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’An says “W’y you can’t kill a lad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ if you do it ain’t much loss!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en she’s mad an’ he ’ist bust<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out laughin’ an’ he says, “Don’t fret,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s goin’ t’ be all right, I trust.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">W’y he ain’t even half dead yet.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he felt my pulse, ’at way,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ patted me upon my head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ says “There ain’t no school today,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz one of th’ trustees is dead!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_004" id="ill_004"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_032fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_032fp.jpg" height="516" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>A MODERN MIRACLE</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">A</span>N’ my, I’m awful sorry w’en<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He told me that. An’ ’en he said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“He’ll be all right by noon.” An’ ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He went away. An’ Ma says “Ned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How do you feel?” An’ ’en, you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Since Doctor told me that, somehow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m awful sick a while ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But, my! I’m almost well right now!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="NERVOUSTOWN" id="NERVOUSTOWN"></a>NERVOUSTOWN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>H, there’s never a noise in Nervoustown;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Not the cry of a youngster; and up or down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s never a cheer or a whistle shrill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just silence, like that of the grave, so still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The horses trot with a muffled tread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the place seems lonesome and drear and dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a cloth-bound head and a nervous frown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are all you may see in Nervoustown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sh-h! you must walk with noiseless tread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For there’s many a hot and aching head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The doors are closed and the blinds are down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For it must be dark in Nervoustown.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you mustn’t whistle or shout or cheer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or slam the doors! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lest a cloth-bound head and a terrible frown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poke out at you from Nervoustown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, there’s never a person there but goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the very tip of his tippy-toes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever a lad has heard at all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of follow-my-leader or rude baseball;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s much as your life is worth to yell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flowers can’t grow for the camphor-smell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While a big policeman, up and down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cries “Sh-h!” through the streets of Nervoustown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And a little boy, who didn’t know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once years and years and years ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gave three loud, lusty cheers one day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For something or other, I can’t say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they snipped his head off—Oh! Oh! Oh!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With big, red, rusty shears, you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cloth-bound heads bobbed up and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With gladness all through Nervoustown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But, oh, it’s gloomy in Nervoustown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the doors tight shut and the blinds all down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the frightened lad his whole life goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the very tips of his tippy-toes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the hens don’t cluck and the birds don’t sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And even the church bells dare not ring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lest a cloth-bound head with a terrible frown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poke out at them from Nervoustown.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="SONG_OF_SUMMER_DAYS" id="SONG_OF_SUMMER_DAYS"></a>SONG OF SUMMER DAYS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>ING a song of hollow logs,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Chirp of cricket, croak of frogs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cry of wild bird, hum of bees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dancing leaves and whisp’ring trees;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Legs all bare and dusty toes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ruddy cheeks and freckled nose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Splash of brook and swish of line,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the song that’s half so fine?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sing a song of summer days,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leafy nooks and shady ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nodding roses, apples red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clover like a carpet spread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing a song of running brooks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cans of bait and fishing hooks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dewy hollows, yellow moons,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Birds a-pipe with merry tunes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sing a song of skies of blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eden’s garden made anew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scarlet hedges, leafy lanes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Vine-embowered sills and panes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stretch of meadows, splashed with dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silver clouds with sunlight through,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cry of loon and pipe of wren,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing and call it home again.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WHAT_MOTHER_DOESNT_KNOW" id="WHAT_MOTHER_DOESNT_KNOW"></a>WHAT MOTHER DOESN’T KNOW</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMETIMES w’en I got to pile wood in the<br /></span> -<span class="ih">yard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist wringin’ with sweat ’cuz I’m workin’ so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ see all the neighbors’ boys startin’ to fish,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I can’t hardly work any more, an’ I wish<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At I wuz a-goin’ an’ ’en right away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I run an’ ast Ma if I can’t go today,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she says to me ’en: “Johnny Jones, you can run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off an’ fish ’ist as soon as your work is all done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">You must work while you work,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You must play while you play<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en you’ll be happy for many a day.”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ mebbe it’s so,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But my goodness! to go<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the boys ’at’s gone fishin’!—I guess she dunno!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes w’en I got to hoe garden an’ hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boys playin’ ball in the next lot, so near<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear ’em all cheerin’ an’ see ’em all score,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I can’t hardly stand it to hoe any more.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So ’en I ast Ma if I can’t go an’ play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ promise to hoe twict as much the next day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she says to me ’en: “Johnny Jones, you can run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off an’ play ’ist as soon as your work is all done.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">You must work while you work,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You must play while you play<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en you’ll be happy for many a day.”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ mebbe it’s so,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But, my goodness! to hoe<br /></span> -<span class="i2">W’en you hear ’em a-playin’!—I guess she dunno.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes w’en the snow gets all piled up so deep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the walk ’at she tells me to go out an’ sweep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It all off, an’ Sam Russell comes by with his sled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My broom ’at I’m usin’ gets heavy as lead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ I can’t hardly sweep, an’ I ast Ma if I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can’t go out a-slidin’ an’ sweep by an’ by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she says to me ’en: “Johnny Jones, you can run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off and slide ’ist as soon as your work is all done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">You must work while you work,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You must play while you play<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en you’ll be happy for many a day.”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ mebbe it’s so,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But to have to sweep snow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">W’en the boys are a-slidin’!—I guess she dunno.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="SO_LONESOME_NOW" id="SO_LONESOME_NOW"></a>SO LONESOME NOW</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>VER t’ Henry Murray’s, why,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">They always had lots an’ lots o’ pie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ toy automobiles an’ v’locipedes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ walkin’ toys, like a fellow reads<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About sometimes, but he seldom sees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ swings out under th’ big oak trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ childurn a-playin’ on every bough—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my! It is turrible lonesome now.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over t’ Henry Murray’s, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mother an’ father ’ist seemed t’ try<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ see if they couldn’t get some new toys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Henry an’ all of us other boys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At played with him; an’ she used t’ make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ dandiest currant an’ raisin cake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ boys ’ist flocked there like flies, somehow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my! It is turrible lonesome now.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over’t Henry Murray’s, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mother ’ud see you goin’ by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ast you why you didn’t come an’ play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Henry an’ all of his toys, some day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ every Christmas she’d have a tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With presents, th’ finest you ever see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ nobody got forgot, somehow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my! It is turrible lonesome now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ over t’ Henry Murray’s, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We boys ’ist look while we’re goin’ by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ see all his toys layin’ there outside.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once Big Bill Skinner broke down an’ cried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ says he don’t care—it was ’ist too bad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cause Henry was all of th’ boy they had.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ th’ swings ’ist hang from th’ big oak bough bough—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! It is turrible lonesome now.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_LITTLE_LOVE_STORY" id="A_LITTLE_LOVE_STORY"></a>A LITTLE LOVE STORY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>HE understands. I do not need to go<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And tell her she is all the world to me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never speak a word to let her know<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I will be faithful till Eternity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when, upon the way to school, she sees<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Me come with two red apples in my hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hears me say: “Please, Sally Jane, take these,”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It is no wonder that she understands.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or when she sees me at the old front gate<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With my new sled right after the first snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And from her window calls to me to wait<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until she asks her Mother can she go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I do not need to tell her why I come<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In my fur cap with mittens on my hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For even if my feelings make me dumb<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She looks at me and then she understands.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or if she whispers something when in school,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As children are quite often apt to do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgetting all about the teacher’s rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And teacher says to Sally: “Was that you?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why then I see how scared she is and rise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up in my seat and hold up both my hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And take the blame—she looks into my eyes eyes—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I do not need to speak—she understands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or if she has the measles so I dare<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not go up to her house, but I can look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In through the window and she sees me there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And if I bring a dandy story book<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leave it on the fence post where the nurse<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Can come and take it in, and if my hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have written, “Dear, I hope you’ll be no worse,”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I do not need to speak—she understands.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I do not need to tell her how I feel—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She only has to watch the things I do;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She knows my heart is true to her as steel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And if it rains or if the sky is blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wait for her to walk to school with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And carry all her school-books in my hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I am just as happy as can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And so is she—because she understands.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_005" id="ill_005"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_042fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_042fp.jpg" height="518" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>A LITTLE LOVE STORY</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ON_A_NOISELESS_FOURTH" id="ON_A_NOISELESS_FOURTH"></a>ON A NOISELESS FOURTH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>N a noiseless street stood a crackerless lad with a screechless fife and a headless drum,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Venting his glee in a voiceless shout, as a blareless band, all still and dumb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came down the length of the avenue, and a bugle corps blew a noteless blare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While a screechless rocket with noiseless hiss cut a fireless path through the silent air.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blareless band played a soundless tune and the crackerless lad gave a voiceless shout<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the rippling folds of the unfurled flag from the upheld standard fluttered out.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Hurrah!” he cried with a voiceless cry, put forth from his lips in a speechless way.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Hurrah for the guns of Lexington and the noiseless Independence Day!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then far away down the village street a smokeless gun belched a soundless roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A popless cracker fizzless died, and the band played a blareless tune once more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The clickless guns of the village guards with a thudless sound dropped on the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The marshal left his neighless horse, and the voiceless mob ranged all around;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A fizzless pinwheel silent whirred, and the drum corps joined in a tootless screech,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lips of the village speaker moved in the tongueless strains of a wordless speech.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then a graceless benediction fell, and the crackerless lad, in a voiceless way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gave a soundless shout for Bunker Hill and the noiseless Independence Day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, the pulseless thrill of the noiseless guns and the tootless fifes and the headless drums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heartless joy of the crackerless lad, as the soundless pageant noiseless comes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the village street, and the sightless glow of the hissless rocket’s fireless glare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With noiseless swish from the silent earth through the measureless breadth of the lightless air!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a fingerless youth of the olden time, when crackers popped and cannons roared,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looked on the scene with much disgust and the look of a lad who is greatly bored;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he cried aloud—’twas the only sound that was heard, not made in a voiceless way:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Dog-gone the guns at Bunker Hill and the noiseless Independence Day!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CONSCIOUS_IGNORANCE" id="CONSCIOUS_IGNORANCE"></a>CONSCIOUS IGNORANCE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>’M only ’ist a little girl,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ w’en I want to play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Mamma says don’t go outside<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our yard this livelong day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en some other girls ’ey come<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ pester me to go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It may be wrong, but I’m so young,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How does she s’pose I know?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en w’en she goes out sometimes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ says: “Now go to bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At eight o’clock this very night,”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I ’member what she said.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But w’en the mantel clock strikes eight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I don’t want to go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It may be wrong, but I’m so young,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How does she s’pose I know?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en she says: “Now, don’t go near<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The cookie jar this day,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I want some cookies awful much<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ try to stay away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all the time I’m hungry for<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some cookies, an’ I go—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It may be wrong, but I’m so young,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How does she s’pose I know?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’m only ’ist a little girl<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not more ’n six years old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my, I always try to do<br /></span> -<span class="i2">E’zactly as I’m told.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But w’en I make ’ist one mistake,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My Ma ought not to go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ punish me, ’cause I’m so young,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How does she s’pose I know?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_PLAYTIME_OF_BACHELOR_BILL" id="THE_PLAYTIME_OF_BACHELOR_BILL"></a>THE PLAYTIME OF BACHELOR BILL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>UR Uncle Bill’s a bachelur, an’ it’s an awful shame,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">’Cuz he knows stories about bears an’ knows ’em all by name.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ growls ’ist like a really one an’ makes you think a bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is underneath th’ table, but of course it isn’t there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ when he takes you on his knee he talks ’ist like a book<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ after w’ile your eyes get big an’ you’re a-scairt to look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’en he says: “Nen a bear come out an’ ’ist went Boo-oo-oo!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Becuz you almost think a bear is really after you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he plays wild Indian an’ hides himself somewheres<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ile we look in th’ corners an’ behind th’ parlor chairs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ peek in th’ dark closets an’ p’tend we’re on a scout<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till after w’ile he makes a whoop an’ ’en comes rushin’ out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist like he’s on th’ warpath; an’ us chinnern run upstairs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ hide in Mamma’s closet an’ he makes us think ’at bears<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are comin’ in to get us an’ he growls ’ist like he’s one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! we’re turble scairt an’ yet it’s awful lots o’ fun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he is a pirate an’ he makes us chinnern play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At we are in a shipwreck an’ th’ crew is cast away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a desert island w’ere his treasure chest is hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ we are only sailors an’ his name is Captain Kidd.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en we hear him comin’ he ’ist roars an’ ’en we run,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz he has broomsticks for a sword an’ pokers for a gun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ after w’ile he kills us all but it don’t hurt, an’ w’en<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sails away in his big ship we come to life again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’En after w’ile our Mother comes an’ taps him on th’ head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ says it’s time for bears an’ scouts an’ things to be in bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ leads us chinnern all upstairs an’ maybe if we keep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right still she’ll let th’ candle burn until we go to sleep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’En after w’ile our Uncle Bill comes up to say good-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ see how snug an’ warm we are an’ all tucked in so tight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he kisses us good-night an’ ’en his eyes ’ist blur:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I guess we make him sorry ’at he is a bachelur!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="HOW_HENRY_BLAKE_KNOWS" id="HOW_HENRY_BLAKE_KNOWS"></a>HOW HENRY BLAKE KNOWS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">D</span>ON’T you dast kill a toad, Henry Blake says, for true<br /></span> -<span class="ih">As your’re born it’ll rain right away if you do.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Henry Blake says oncet some boys ’at he knowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were goin’ a-fishin’ an’ one killed a toad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ it all clouded up an’ it got just as black,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ it thundered an’ lightninged before they got back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till they were awful scairt. He says he dunno why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he thinks toads has somethin’ t’ do with the sky.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ Henry Blake showed<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Us th’ place in th’ road<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where the boys went an’ kilt him an’ that’s how he knowed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake says if you just split a bean<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ put half of it on a wart when it’s green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ throw half of it between midnight an’ dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a cistern somewhere, why, your wart’ll be gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as soon as it rots. Henry Blake says it’s true<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz a friend of his showed him a bean cut in two<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That took off a big wart, an’ th’ half was all black<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Henry Blake says that it never came back.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ Henry’s friend showed<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Him th’ cistern he throwed<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The other half into an’ that’s how he knowed!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_LAND_OF_BLOW_BUBBLES" id="THE_LAND_OF_BLOW_BUBBLES"></a>THE LAND OF BLOW BUBBLES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>IS curls are like rings of red gold on his head,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">His lips are as red as a cherry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His cheeks are as round as an apple, and red,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His eyes full of mischief and merry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His heart is as pure as a snowflake in air,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fig for the whole of his troubles!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he’s my Boy Careless—you’ve seen him somewhere,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he lives in the land of Blow Bubbles!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now he’s riding a stick that is legless and dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through the lanes and across the sere stubbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a stick is a horse with four legs and a head<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In that magic boy land of Blow Bubbles!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He bears at his side a sword cut from a lath,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a big wooden gun on his shoulder,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And woe to the wild beast that crosses his path<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For never a huntsman was bolder.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now down from his steed leaps Boy Careless in haste,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He drops on one knee in the stubbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For stubbles are woods full of wild beasts, all chased<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To their death by the boys in Blow Bubbles!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His musket he brings to his shoulder and shoots,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sound of it echoes and doubles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a make-believe gun kills the make-believe brutes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In that magic boy land of Blow Bubbles.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then out from the forest a savage all red<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With blood-curdling yell leaps to battle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thrust from the big wooden sword—he is dead<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a most melancholy death-rattle.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then up from the ground lifts Boy Careless his horse,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And back o’er the all-trackless stubbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For it’s many a mile to his cabin, of course,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the magic boy land of Blow Bubbles.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, joy to the lad in his make-believe ride<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the make-believe gun on his shoulder,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the make-believe sword cut from lath at his side,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a sigh from the heart that is older!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A whistle for Care from the harp of his lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fig for the whole of his troubles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he’s off like the wind on his make-believe trips<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the magic boy land of Blow Bubbles!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_GINGERCAKE_MAN" id="THE_GINGERCAKE_MAN"></a>THE GINGERCAKE MAN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HE Gingercake man was a lump of brown dough<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Till a great rolling pin was run over him, so!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To flatten him out, and he lay there so thin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His bones almost popped through the holes in his skin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They sifted him over with flour and spice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made him some eyes with two kernels of rice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And took some dried currants, the biggest and best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make him some buttons for closing his vest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Gingercake man wabbled this way and that,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When they seeded a raisin and made him a hat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That was stuck on his head in the jauntiest way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a Gingercake man is not made every day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They stuck in some cloves for his ears; yes, indeed!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made him some teeth out of caraway seed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he was finished they buttered a pan—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The biggest they had—for the Gingercake man.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then into the oven they put him to bake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until he was hard and could stand and not break<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His legs when he stood; and they set him to cool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until all the children should come home from school.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, the delight and the wonder and glee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When mother invited the children to see,<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_006" id="ill_006"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_052fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_052fp.jpg" width="517" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>THE GINGERCAKE MAN</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">A</span>LL sifted with sugar and out of the pan,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The good-natured face of the Gingercake man.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But alas and alas! ’Tis a short life and sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is the Gingercake man’s—for they ate off his feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They broke off his arms with the hungriest zest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And picked all the buttons from out of his vest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They nibbled his legs off and ate up his hat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything edible went just like that,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the cloves and the kernels of rice you may scan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As all that is left of the Gingercake man!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LONESOME" id="LONESOME"></a>LONESOME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>AY, little boy, be friends with me and I’ll be friends with you;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And I won’t never tell on you, no matter what you do.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It’s awful lonesome over here and, goodness, but it’s hard<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To have your mother say that you must play in your back yard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s lots of daisies where I am, and butterflies as bright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As anything you ever saw, and I just saw one light;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Perhaps you’d catch it in your cap if I would help you to—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Come over and be friends with me and I’ll be friends with you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’m all the children we have got—I’m lonesome as can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to come and play with me.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I don’t care if your face ain’t clean or if your clothes are torn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I didn’t have no clothes at all the time that I was born.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We got ripe apples on our trees and I will boost you so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That you can get some if you come, and when it’s time to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">We’ll fill your cap and pockets full to take home. Don’t you see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’m willing to be friends with you if you’ll be friends with me?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’ve got a lot of wooden toys, as fine as they can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I want something that’s alive to run around with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And play wild Indians and bears, and if you’ll come and play<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Perhaps my Mamma ’ll let me come and play with you some day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ve got some dandy hollow trees, the finest anywheres,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one of us can hide in them when we are playing bears,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And growl just like he’s awful cross, and all the time you know<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It’s only make-believe, of course, but then it scares you so.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wish you’d come and play with me. I’ve got a jumping-jack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll give you for your very own to keep when you go back,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And you can ride my v’locipede most all the afternoon<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And blow some bubbles with my pipe and play with my balloon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve got an awful lot of toys and I will let you play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That they are yours as much as mine for all the time you stay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’m all the boys my folks have got. I’m lonesome as can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Come on, and I’ll be friends with you if you’ll be friends with me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_GARDEN_OF_PLAY" id="THE_GARDEN_OF_PLAY"></a>THE GARDEN OF PLAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>UT in the Garden of Childhood gay<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Romp three glad youngsters with merry cries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Startling the birds with their boisterous play,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ever you see them and hear them there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Morning or evening or blossomy noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, but the Garden of Youth is fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And oh, but the years of it pass too soon!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over the Garden arch cloudless skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah, but the skies of all Youth are blue!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Find in each nook something rare and new.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cool is the shade of the coaxing trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bidding them hide from the sun at noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, but what glorious days are these,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And oh, but the hours of them pass too soon!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rare is the Garden with fragrant flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah, but the flowers of Youth are fair!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Garlands they weave of the golden hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sweet with the song of the birds in air.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Splashed all the earth with a rosy light,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Light of the sun at its splendid noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, but the sunshine of Youth is bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And oh, but the light of it dies too soon!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sweet to mine ears from the Garden gay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Echo their calls and their merry cries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Startling the birds with their boisterous play,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dips the red sun to its shadowed west,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">These are the years of mine afternoon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, but the years of my youth were best,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And oh, but the joy of them passed too soon!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WE_AINT_SCARED_O_PA" id="WE_AINT_SCARED_O_PA"></a>WE AIN’T SCARED O’ PA</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">U</span>S boys ain’t scared o’ Pa so much,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">He only makes a noise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ says he never did see such<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Onmanageable boys.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when Ma looks around I see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just somethin’ long an’ flat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ always make a point to be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some better after that.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Pa promises an’ promises,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But never does a thing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what Ma says she does she does,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ when I go to bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her slipper or her hair brush when<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She says she’ll dust my pants,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I think I could be better then<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If I had one more chance.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Pa always says nex’ time ’at he<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will have a word to say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Ma she is more apt to be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A-doin’ right away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pa turns around at us an’ glares<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As fierce as he can look,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when we’re out o’ sight, upstairs,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He goes back to his book.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ma doesn’t glare as much as Pa<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or make as big a fuss,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what she says is law is law,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And when she speaks to us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s lookin’ carelessly around<br /></span> -<span class="i2">F’r somethin’ long an’ flat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when we notice it, we’re bound<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To be good after that.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So we ain’t scairt o’ Pa at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Although he thinks we are;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when we hear Ma come an’ call,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No difference how far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are away we answer quick,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ tell her where we’re at,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she stoops down and starts to pick<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up somethin’ long an’ flat!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_PEARL_OF_PRICE" id="A_PEARL_OF_PRICE"></a>A PEARL OF PRICE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>HE isn’t worth a fortune and she hasn’t any stocks,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Her wealth is all in little shoes and pinafores and frocks.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In little rings of curling hair and big blue, laughing eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In leaves and grass and buds and flowers and bees and butterflies.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when she comes in tired from play and crawls upon my knee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s worth a hundred millions to her mother and to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She sits among her dolls and toys and doesn’t seem to care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If wealth is all in rosy cheeks and locks of curly hair.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She toddles up to me and like an artful fairy clips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A coupon bearing love from off the sweetness of her lips.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she puts her arms around my neck and goos in glee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s worth uncounted millions to her mother and to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when she’s in her crib at night and daintily tucked in,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wealth of Croesus couldn’t buy the dimple in her chin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as she blinks her roguish eyes to play at peek-a-boo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She chuckles me a fortune with each archly spoken goo.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though she has no fortune, I am sure you will agree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s a fortune, more than money, to her mother and to me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DEAR_LITTLE_QUEER_LITTLE_MAN" id="DEAR_LITTLE_QUEER_LITTLE_MAN"></a>DEAR LITTLE, QUEER LITTLE MAN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">D</span>EAR little, queer little man,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">With his hair all a tumble of curls,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">With a light in his eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Like the blue of the skies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the dawn’s rosy banner unfurls!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet little, fleet little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who fills all the house with his toys,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Whose laugh has the truth<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of the heart of his youth:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A toast to the health of our boys!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear little, queer little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a big, paper cap on his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And a sword at his side<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As he gets up to ride<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On his hobby-horse, gaudy and red!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Play, little, gay little man;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fill all of the house with your noise,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For, oh, it were ill<br /></span> -<span class="i4">If your laughter were still!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A toast to the laughter of boys!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear little, queer little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With dreams of the future to be,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">When he shall grow tall<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And shall care for us all,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">His mother, his sister and me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brave little, grave little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With thoughts, like his youth, incomplete,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But bearing the seed<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That shall blossom and lead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To manhood all gracious and sweet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear little, queer little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whose heart is so boyish and pure,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">May the sweetness and truth<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That are flowers of youth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through all of your being endure!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Play, little, gay little man;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fill all of the house with your noise,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For, oh, what so sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As the pattering feet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the echoing laughter of boys?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear little, queer little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The light of the dawn’s rosy beams<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Be evermore spread<br /></span> -<span class="i4">On your dear, curly head,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And truth to your innocent dreams!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blest little, best little man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God keep you as pure as the truth<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That lingers and lies<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the light of your eyes:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Long life to the heart of your youth!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="GIRL_OF_MINE" id="GIRL_OF_MINE"></a>GIRL OF MINE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>H, her frock is crisp and white,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And her hair is curled up tight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To her roguish little head, just like an aureole of light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a heart but she could win<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the ribbon at her chin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her cheeks that have such very little merry dimples in.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, the laughter in her eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wonder and surprise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As she toddles through the waving grass in search of butterflies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the flowers nod and sway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In their love of her and say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By their homage as she passes she’s a fairer flower than they.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, the sweetness and the grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her radiant little face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As she scampers through the sunlight in her airy, fairy race;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How the roguish laughter trips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the gateway of her lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the lilting of the robin through the leafy bough that slips.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the birds in branches high<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seem to join her merry cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to chirp a fearless greeting as she gaily toddles by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so light her footsteps fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the clover blossoms call:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“See! She stepped on us in passing but we’re scarcely bruised at all!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CHUMS" id="CHUMS"></a>CHUMS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>E lives acrost the street from us<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ ain’t as big as me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mother takes in washin’ ’cuz<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They’re poor as they can be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But every night he brings his slate<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en I do his sums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ help him get his lessons straight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz him an’ me is chums.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His clo’es ain’t <i>quite</i> as good as mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But I don’t care for that;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mother makes his face ’ist shine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I <i>lent</i> him a hat.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ every mornin’, ’ist by rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">W’en nine o’clock it comes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He takes my hand an’ goes to school,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz him an’ me is chums.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nobody better plague him, too,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No matter if he’s small,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz I’m his friend, for tried and true,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’at’s th’ reason all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ boys don’t dare to plague him, ’cuz<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I ’ist wait till he comes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ he walks close to me, he does,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz him an’ me is chums.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He fell an’ hurt hi’self one day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Th’ summer before last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’at’s w’at makes him limp ’at way<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ don’t grow very fast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So w’en I get a piece of pie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or maybe nuts or plums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I always give him some, ’cuz I<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Get lots—an’ we are chums.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en it’s nuttin’ time, we go,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ I climb all th’ trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz he can’t climb—he’s hurt, you know—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But he gets all he sees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come droppin’ down, an’ my! he’s glad;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ w’en th’ twilight comes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He says w’at a fine time he had,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz him an’ me is chums.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But my! his mother’s awful queer;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz w’en we’re home again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She wipes her eye—a great, big tear—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ says: “God bless you, Ben!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Th’ Lord will bless you all your days<br /></span> -<span class="i2">W’en th’ great Judgment comes.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I say I don’t need no praise,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz him an’ me is chums.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_LOST_BOY" id="THE_LOST_BOY"></a>THE LOST BOY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">L</span>ITTLE Boy Careless has strewn his blocks<br /></span> -<span class="ih">From end to end of the nursery;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has broken the top of the gaudy box<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That held sliced animals—My, Ah Me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His wooden soldiers are seamed and scarred<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From battle with him, and his jumping-jack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is lodged half-way from a blow too hard,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor all of my coaxing will get him back.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little Boy Careless has split his drum<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bent the tube of his screeching fife<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till all of its martial airs are dumb,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the doll that squeaked has lost her life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From a mallet blow on her waxen head,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And none of her sister dolls knows or cares<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How the sawdust in her is strewn and spread<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the bedroom door to the hall downstairs.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little Boy Careless has gone away<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Big Boy Hopeful has come to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The toys that were scattered here yesterday<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are stored up there in the nursery.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The broken drum and the jumping-jack,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The waxen doll in her crib alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor Little Boy Careless will e’er come back<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To scatter the toys by his years outgrown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And ah, but the heart of me aches and cries<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the Little Boy Careless to come and play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light of the dawn in his big, brown eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the toys that are gathered and laid away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Big Boy Hopeful will come to pine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the world out there and will yearn to go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the Little Boy Careless was mine, all mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And that is the reason I loved him so!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LINES_TO_A_BABY_GIRL" id="LINES_TO_A_BABY_GIRL"></a>LINES TO A BABY GIRL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>H, she has such a way with her!<br /></span> -<span class="ih">I stay with her<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And play with her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her cheeks are round and dimpled and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her eyes are Heaven’s blue;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My life is spent quite half with her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I laugh with her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And chaff with her,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till she looks up with laughing eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And all she says is “Goo!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I try to walk with her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I talk with her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And rock with her;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She knows some way my love for her<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is tender and is true.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so I sit and speak with her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And seek with her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cheek of her<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To brush with little kisses and<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Quite all she says is “Goo!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She toddles in to share with me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My chair with me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her air with me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is that of queen imperious,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My heart her subject true.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the floor she lies with me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tries with me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To rise with me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When romping time is over, and<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She looks up and says “Goo!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, she is such a part of me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heart of me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And art of me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could not express my love for her,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So tender and so true;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She is the treasure blessed of me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heart’s guest of me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The best of me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This little baby girl of me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who looks up and says “Goo!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LITTLE_MISCHEFUSS" id="LITTLE_MISCHEFUSS"></a>LITTLE MISCHEFUSS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMEBODY went and broke my doll, an’ let her sawdust out<br /></span> -<span class="ih">On Mamma’s floor an’ my! there’s sawdust scattered all about!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dess scandalous! An’ bien by my Mamma’ll come an’ say:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I see ’at Little Mischefuss has been around today!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ sometimes w’en th’ sugar bowl’s lef’ open, she says ’en:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I dess ’at Little Mischefuss has been around again!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! I’m awful much surprised! an’ ast how does she know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she dess says a little bird flew in an’ told her so!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One time somebody went, she did, and broke my jumpin’-jack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Mamma says: “I see ’at Little Mischefuss is back.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en somebody spilled p’eserves right on the pantry shelf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She says: “I see ’at Mischefuss has tried to he’p herself!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One day somebody tored my dress an’ en she says: “I see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At Little Mischefuss is dess as busy as can be!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! I’m awful much surprised an’ ast how does she know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she dess says a little bird flew in an’ told her so!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Somebody frowed my blocks out doors an’ ’en ’ey dot all wet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ all peeled off tuz why it rained an’ Mamma says she bet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At Little Mischefuss is back from Topsyturvytown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ mus’ be hidin’ in th’ house or else somew’eres aroun’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oncet Mamma’s goin’ t’ spank her w’en she catches her, an’ so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ast her not to tuz she’s dess a little girl, you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ don’t know any better ’an t’ plague an’ pester us,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till she dess laughs, tuz why she says <i>I’m</i> Little Mischefuss!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_TRAVELS_OF_MORTIMER_BROWN" id="THE_TRAVELS_OF_MORTIMER_BROWN"></a>THE TRAVELS OF MORTIMER BROWN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HIS is the story of Mortimer Brown<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Who went for his mother some errands in town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who was told he must come back as quick as he could<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as earnestly promised his mother he would.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He went down the front steps full three at a time<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And swung on the gate, for the swinging was prime.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He teetered on all the loose boards in the walk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And met Jimmy Brady and sat down to talk;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He climbed up the trunk of a big tree that stands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not so far from his home, and he swung with both hands.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He passed the cow pasture and stopped for a stroll,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Climbed the fence and turned twice on the very top pole.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then he turned a few handsprings all through the long grass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sat on the fence to watch Peter Bates pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a big flock of sheep, and he got himself chased<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the biggest black ram and he fell in his haste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the bank of the brook and he sat there about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half an hour in the sun till his clothes were dried out.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He laid off his coat since the day was so hot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And chose a bypath through the strawberry plot;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He gathered some berries to eat on his way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till alarmed by the watch-dog’s deep, ominous bay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then he followed a rabbit as far as he could<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until it was lost in the depth of a wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And marked a bee tree so to find it again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he and Jim Brady should visit Beech Glen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So tired then he was that he sat down to rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he fell sound asleep with his coat and his vest<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Spread under his head, when the rumble of wheels<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the road waked him up and he saw Elmer Beals<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Driving by in the lane and he climbed up beside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a big load of squashes and had a fine ride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And helped lead the horses to water as soon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As they both reached the town in the late afternoon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then, oh, alas! The long list Mother wrote<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the things he should get had dropped out of his coat,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So he bought some stick candy and cookies—he knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the things she would need they must surely be two,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And munching them sadly the whole of the way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back homeward he wondered what Mother would say.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder if ever in country or town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You have known such a lad as this Mortimer Brown?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ADVENTURERS_THREE" id="ADVENTURERS_THREE"></a>ADVENTURERS THREE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> KNOW a little sailor who has never been to sea,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">But walks the deck of our back porch as bold as he can be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He never shows a sign of fear when in the stoutest gale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever lost a ship, although he never reefed a sail.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve heard him send his crew aloft when fearful tempests blew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But though I’ve searched the rigging oft, I never saw the crew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m sure he is a sailor, for his mother showed to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His clothes, such as the sailors wear when they go forth to sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know a little hunter who has never fired a gun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But roams about our orchard with a painted wooden one;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A hunter of such prowess that he hasn’t left a bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A tiger or an animal of that description there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know he used to see them, for I’ve seen him creep and crawl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And finally destroy one that I never saw at all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m sure he was a hunter, for I saw his buckskins spread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as a plainsman leaves them—on the foot-board of his bed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know a little soldier who has never been to war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But wears a splendid uniform, all buttoned down before.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve seen him drill in our back yard a dozen times a day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve seen him march and counter in a military way.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve heard him shout commands with all a captain’s dignity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But though I’ve searched the lawn, I never saw his company.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m sure he was a soldier, for I saw the clothes he wore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Last night beside his bed, when he had finished with the war.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes he gets a wetting when the seas are very high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And has to have his sailor clothes hung on the line to dry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So he becomes a soldier and upon a march he goes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And what he is this moment quite depends upon his clothes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He never shoots a lion when he wears a sailor suit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or walks the deck in buckskins, which he only wears to shoot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never thinks of drilling or of marching off to war<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unless he wears his uniform with buttons down before.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WHEN_THEY_LOVE_YOU_SO" id="WHEN_THEY_LOVE_YOU_SO"></a>WHEN THEY LOVE YOU SO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>NE time I’m awful sick in bed,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ sometimes I’m delirious,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz I got fever in my head,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ when I’m th’ most serious<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Pa, he sits beside of me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en he rubs my head, an’ ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He says when I get well, why, he<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Won’t ever scold his boy again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en my Ma, she rubs my head<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Ist burnin’ hot, an’ ’en her chin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist shivers an’ she says: “Poor Ned!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His little hands so white an’ thin!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en she says she never knew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How precious ’ist a boy could be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ when I’m well she’s goin’ t’ do<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Ist what I want her to for me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ by and by my Aunty comes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ says when I get well why she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t care if I have twenty drums,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ she will buy a sled for me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my big sister’s goin’ t’ buy<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A really pony ’ist as quick<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As ever doctor says ’at I<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Am well again from bein’ sick.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ even our old hired man<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes in an’ stays a while with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whenever doctor says he can,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Ist kind an’ gentle as can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz once he had a boy, an’ ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He had th’ fever an’ ’at’s why<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s awful kind to me an’ when<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He sees me, why he starts t’ cry.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ even teacher comes to see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Me on her way from school, an’ ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She says it won’t be hard for me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When I come back to school again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz she won’t make my lessons long,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or keep me after school; an’ she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist wants me to get well an’ strong<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ ’en she stoops an’ kisses me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’at’s th’ way you really know<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How much they love you, when your head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist burnin’ up an’ you can’t go<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nowheres except to stay in bed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ even if you’re awful bad<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ hot with fever, why, you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It makes you feel ’ist sweet an’ glad<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Becuz they all ’ist love you so.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="SOMEBODY_DID" id="SOMEBODY_DID"></a>SOMEBODY DID</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMEBODY stood up right on top of a chair<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ reached in the cooky-jar, way, way up there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’en nobody’s lookin’ an’ Mamma’s asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ all of us chinnern wuz playin’ Bo-peep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now’eres near the pantry; an’ tryin’ to get<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some cookies, an’ someway the jar got upset,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! it ’ist busted all over the floor.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But John, he ain’t scairt; an’ he rapped on the door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ile all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he says: “Ma, see w’at Somebody did!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz we don’t know who done it—but Somebody did!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Somebody crawled up in the big leather chair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the lib’ary table w’at stood over there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’en we wuz a-playin’ now’eres near the ink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Mamma was sewin’—an’ w’at do you think?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somebody upset it and knocked it, ’ist Chug!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right off’n the table an’ down on the rug,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! it ’ist busted an’ runned everyw’eres.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But John, he ain’t scairt; an’ he runned right upstairs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ile all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he says: “Ma, see w’at Somebody did!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz we don’t know who done it—but Somebody did!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ wunst w’en the kitchen wuz all scrubbed so clean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The floor wuz ’ist shiny as ever you seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ we wuz all playin’ outdoors in the street,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somebody went in with the muddies’ feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ tracked it all over the floor, ’ist a sight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! when we seen it we ’ist shook with fright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz none of us chinnern went near it all day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But John, he ain’t scairt; an’ he went right away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ile all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en he says: “Ma, see w’at Somebody did!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ all of us chinnern we runned off an’ hid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz we don’t know who done it—but Somebody did!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_WADERS" id="THE_WADERS"></a>THE WADERS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HE queerest things rained down all over our street,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">With long legs, like spiders, and muddy brown feet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They must have rained down, for I saw them all run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through puddles and mud ere the shower was done.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’re some sort of Waders, and all over town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through pools and deep gutters they splash up and down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bareheaded, barelegged, barefooted and wet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Waders of Frogpond—I hear them splash yet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The rain fell in torrents, the gutters’ deep tides<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were black, and the rain barrels ran o’er their sides,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The frothy white waters whirled from the eavespout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But with the first lull all the Waders came out.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They danced in the frogponds, they sounded the streams<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In gutters and made the air shrill with their screams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They rolled up their dresses and trousers and dashed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through mud, froth and water, and waded and splashed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And forth with the Waders came all kinds of dogs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came sailors with bark boats, came navies of frogs.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came big rubber boots on such tiny brown legs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came floating armadas of cans and half-kegs;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came long poles for sounding, came all sorts of crafts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unseaworthy boxes made over to rafts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder if ever in my life again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll see so much gladness come down with the rain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They must have rained down, for a minute ago<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The frogpond was dry and deserted, you know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There wasn’t a Wader, a dog or a craft,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pair of gum boots, a bark boat or a raft;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eave’s but done dripping, scarce dry is the spout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When lo, all the navy of Waders is out!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pond’s full of ships as the old Spanish Main.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who’d think so much fun could come down with the rain?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_007" id="ill_007"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_084fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_084fp.jpg" height="520" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>THE WADERS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THEN_THE_PRISONED_PUPIL" id="THEN_THE_PRISONED_PUPIL"></a>THEN THE PRISONED PUPIL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>HE kept him aftur skool when awl the burds<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Were singen swetely in the woods an wurds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kood not deskribe his sufferens. the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was full uv blossums an the urth was fare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ecksept to himm. becaws he did not no<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His jogafy she wood not let him go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An when he hurd us cloas the dore the teers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rolld down his cheeks an he livd menny yeers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In just a singul owr. it was like sum<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old torchure ur sum krewel marturdum.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How kood he study when he noo that we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were goen gayly homewurd glad an free<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wile he was kept a prizzuner becaws<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He did not no ware venna zweela was.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An when he thot uv how weere ap too go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In swimmen aftur skool his greef an wo<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was almoast moar than he kood bare an yet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sturnly kept him thare an wood not let<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Him leev his seet altho he felt he must<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An so she bowd his spearut in the dust.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An aftur wile when its too late to play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She lookt at him in sutch a skornful way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Az tho he was a krimminle an sed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He mite go home. his proud and hotty hed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was bent with greef and he went slowly owt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The skoolroom dore and then lookt awl abowt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Az tho releest from prizzen an the brand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Uv sin on him was moar than he kood stand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An he went sloly homewurd bowd with shaim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O liburtey the krimes dun in thi naim.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_PRAYER_FOR_JIMMY_BANKS" id="A_PRAYER_FOR_JIMMY_BANKS"></a>A PRAYER FOR JIMMY BANKS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">D</span>EAR Lord, excuse Jim Banks and me<br /></span> -<span class="ih">For hitting Aunty Griggs when we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Threw snowballs at the cat, because<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We did not know where Aunty was!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jim Banks and me are sorry, Lord,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For, drawing Teacher on the board,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And after what we got, we do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not need more punishment from you!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Excuse Jim Banks especially,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because his mother’s dead and he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just heard of you the other day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And is too bashful yet to pray!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But you would like him if you knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jim Banks as well as we all do.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if you have some clothes to spare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remember him, for he’s quite bare!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He says old shoes will help him some,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some worn pants; and he will come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most any night, but where he stays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He earns his keep by working days!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And if there is an angel there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who might like him and you can spare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would you mind telling this to him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see what he can do for Jim?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And Jimmy’s hat is straw and old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You know the weather’s pretty cold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Jimmy’s ears stick out into<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weather, and his nose gets blue!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear Lord, please do the very best<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You can for him! I’ve got a vest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sweater on the closet shelf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I am going to give myself!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And beg your pardon, Lord, and pray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My soul to keep; and Jimmy may<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be President some day, and then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ll all be proud of him. Amen!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_008" id="ill_008"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_088fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_088fp.jpg" width="513" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>A PRAYER FOR JIMMY BANKS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_CHILDS_CHRISTMAS_PRAYER" id="A_CHILDS_CHRISTMAS_PRAYER"></a>A CHILD’S CHRISTMAS PRAYER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">D</span>EAR Lord, be good to Santa Claus,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">He’s been so good to me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never told him so because<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He is so hard to see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He must love little children so<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To come through snow and storm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Please care for him when cold winds blow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And keep him nice and warm.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear Lord, be good to him and good<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To Mary Christmas, too.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d like to tell them, if I could,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The things I’m telling you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ve both been very good to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And everywhere they go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They make us glad;—no wonder we<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All learn to love them so.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Please have him button up his coat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So it will keep him warm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wear a scarf about his throat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If it should start to storm.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the night is dark, please lend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Him light if stars are dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or maybe sometimes you could send<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An Angel down with him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Please keep his heart so good and kind<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That he will always smile;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tell him maybe we will find<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And thank him after while.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Please keep him safe from harm and keep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Quite near and guard him when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s tired and lays him down to sleep.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dear Lord, please do! Amen.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="HENRY_BLAKES_CHUM" id="HENRY_BLAKES_CHUM"></a>HENRY BLAKE’S CHUM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>ENRY Blake’s chum he had awful red hair,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And most of his clothes were too small;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often and often he wore his feet bare<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until it was late in the fall.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he would just whistle as though he had shoes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was never discouraged or glum;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And most any boy would be sorry to lose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fellow like Henry Blake’s chum.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake’s chum, he knew all about trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And woodticks and crickets and birds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all of the things that a boy really sees<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But can’t always tell them in words;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he knew where fish were the most apt to bite,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And when the first blackberries come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And how to catch birds in a trap when they light—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No wonder he’s good for a chum.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake’s chum, he had rabbits for pets,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And crows that he taught how to speak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dogs that will haul you, and he often gets<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A new dog or two every week.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often he crawls up and catches a frog<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between his first finger and thumb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where it may be sitting alone on a log;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And my! Henry’s proud of his chum!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake’s chum, he knew all about flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And always could tell you their name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And didn’t mind thunder or lightning or showers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because he said it’s all the same<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So long as you’re barefoot and haven’t much clothes.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he knew how partridges drum,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whistled just like a Bob White’s whistle goes—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No wonder he’s somebody’s chum.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake’s chum, he came up from the farm,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And my! he was awful ashamed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In school not to know the big bone in your arm<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or what the equator was named.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when it came recess we all stood about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And waited until he would come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he told us things we had never found out—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And my! Henry’s proud of his chum!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ONCE_UPON_A_TIME" id="ONCE_UPON_A_TIME"></a>ONCE UPON A TIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>NCE upon a time rare flowers grew<br /></span> -<span class="ih">On every shrub and bush we used to see;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The skies above our heads were always blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The woods held secrets deep for you and me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hillsides had their caves where tales were told<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of swart-cheeked pirates from a far-off clime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When cutlases were fierce and rovers bold—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Don’t you remember?—Once upon a time.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once upon a time from sun to sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The hours were full of joy—there was no care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And webs of gaudy dreams in air were spun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of deeds heroic and of fortunes fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The jangling schoolhouse bell was all the woe<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our spirits knew, and in its tuneless chime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was all the sorrow of the long ago—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Don’t you remember?—Once upon a time.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once upon a time the witches rode<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In sinister and ominous parade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon their sticks at night, and queer lights glowed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With eery noises by the goblins made;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many things mysterious there were<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For boyish cheeks to pale at through the grime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That held them brown; and shadows queer would stir—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Don’t you remember?—Once upon a time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once upon a time our faith was vast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To compass all the things on sea and land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That boys have trembled o’er for ages past,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor ever could explain or understand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in that faith found happiness too deep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For all the gifted tongues of prose or rime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joys ineffable we could not keep—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Don’t you remember?—Once upon a time.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_009" id="ill_009"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_094fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_094fp.jpg" height="514" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>ONCE UPON A TIME</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_WAY_TO_SCHOOL" id="THE_WAY_TO_SCHOOL"></a>THE WAY TO SCHOOL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">F</span>IVE minutes chasing butterflies<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Way over, off the road;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Five minutes watching Willie Price<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Do tricks with his pet toad;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Five minutes helping Gibbsie get<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His pig back in the pen—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder if it’s school-time yet?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I guess I’m late again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I think I lost a little time<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because I walked so slow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where Johnny Watkins lost a dime<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A day or two ago.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s underneath the leaves somewhere,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Johnny feels so blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I just stopped a minute there<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because he asked me to.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then it rained a little bit,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Dominick McPhee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had his straw hat and had to sit<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under a good thick tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or else he’d get it spoiled and get<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The top all swelled. You see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A straw hat is not safe to wet—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His kind, especially.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And after we had saved his hat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From getting spoiled for him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A big woodpecker came and sat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon a rotten limb;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Johnny said when they’re about,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Somebody told the boys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You see a lot of worms come out<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To see what makes the noise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So then we boys all stayed about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A couple minutes more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In hopes to see the worms come out<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which he was rapping for;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But after he went b-r-r-r! and b-r-r-r!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A while, he flew away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Johnny said he guessed there were<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No worms at home that day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So then we hurried up, and ran<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As fast as we could run,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To get there just as school began.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And just when it’s begun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had to run back to the tree<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To get my slate and rule;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet the teacher cannot see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Why boys are late for school.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_PRESENT_FOR_LITTLE_BOY_BLUE" id="A_PRESENT_FOR_LITTLE_BOY_BLUE"></a>A PRESENT FOR LITTLE BOY BLUE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>UR Neighbor, he calls me his Little Boy Blue<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Whenever he goes by our yard;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he says, “Good-morning” or “How-do-you-do?”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But sometimes he winks awful hard.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I guess he don’t know what my name really is,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or else he forgot, if he knew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my! You would think I am really part his—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He calls me <i>his</i> Little Boy Blue!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our Neighbor, he told me that Little Boy Blue<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Once stood all his toys in a row,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said, “Now, don’t go till I come back for you”—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But that was a long time ago.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one time, at Christmas, when I had a tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He brought me a sled, all brand-new,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And smiled when he said it was partly for me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And partly for Little Boy Blue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our Neighbor, he’s not going to have any tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So he says the best he can do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is try to get something to partly give me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And partly give Little Boy Blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because, if he’s here, it would make him so glad,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he said he knew it was true<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ever and ever so many folks had<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A boy just like Little Boy Blue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our Neighbor, he calls me his Little Boy Blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And said he would like to help trim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our tree when it came—he would feel that he knew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It was partly for me and for him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said he would fix it with lights and wax flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With popcorn and berries—you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d like to come over and help to trim ours—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He’s not going to have any tree!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_EVOLUTION_OF_AN_ADOPTION" id="THE_EVOLUTION_OF_AN_ADOPTION"></a>THE EVOLUTION OF AN ADOPTION</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>E’S ’ist a little orfant boy<br /></span> -<span class="ih">W’at goes to school with me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ain’t got any parents ’cuz<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His folks is dead, you see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en he sees my toys an’ things—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My, but his eyes ’ist shine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ he ain’t got no marbles, so<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I give him half of mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ once it’s orful stormy w’en<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It’s noon an’ he can’t go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back where he works for board an’ clo’es<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To get his lunch, an’ so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had some san’wiches an’ things<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’At he thought was ’ist fine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’cuz he didn’t have no lunch<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I give him half of mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ once w’en we went down to fish<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He come along with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en we’re there says he ’ist wish<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’At he could fish. You see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s orful poor an’ brought a pole<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But didn’t have a line,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en I saw how bad he felt<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I give him half of mine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ one time I ’ist told my Ma<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How he don’t have much fun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz he ain’t got no Ma or Pa<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or Aunt or any one.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en I told her how I thought<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’At it would be ’ist fine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz he ain’t got no mother if<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’d give him half of mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He ain’t my brother, really true,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He’s ’ist an orfant, so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Ma she took him, ’cuz she knew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He had no place to go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m awful glad we got him an’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My Pa thinks it ’ist fine—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He didn’t have no mother, so<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I give him half of mine.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="SOME_GIRLS_THAT_MAMMA_KNEW" id="SOME_GIRLS_THAT_MAMMA_KNEW"></a>SOME GIRLS THAT MAMMA KNEW</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">M</span>Y Mamma says ’at once ’ere was<br /></span> -<span class="ih">A little girl she knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who went an’ cried, an’ ’ist because—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because she wanted to;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’ile her face was all askew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wind changed, so they say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Mamma told me ’at it’s true,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her face ’ist staid ’at way!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ w’en she told me ’at, w’y nen<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I said I’ll never cry again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Mamma said ’at once she heard<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A little girl like me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell ’ist one fib, an’ says, my word!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her Mamma looked to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’ere was her tongue, an’ goodness me!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her mouth was ’ist all bare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’ere her tongue ’ud ought to be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There wasn’t any there!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ w’en she told me ’at, w’y nen<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I said I’ll never fib again!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Mamma knew a little girl<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’At used to run away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">W’en her dear mother ’d start to curl<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her hair; an’ one fine day<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some gypsies took her off, somehow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ stole her from her home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ my! Her hair is awful now,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cause gypsies never comb!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ since she told me ’at, w’y nen<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I never runned away again!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ never don’t make fun, she says,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of folks ’at’s blind or lame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or got red hair or warts, unless<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You want to be the same.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cause lots of times it happens so,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ surely if you do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You never, never, never know<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What’s going to happen you.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ since she told me ’at, w’y nen<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I never don’t make fun again.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="GONE" id="GONE"></a>GONE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>E fell in a puddle and muddied his dress,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">He struck little Bob with a hammer, I guess;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He cut sister’s curls with a big pair of shears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And left ragged edges down over her ears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He muddied the floor that was just scrubbed so clean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He lighted a match near the canned gasoline,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He broke all his soldiers and smashed all his toys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet we forgave him, for boys will be boys.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He singed the cat’s whiskers and cut off its tail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then turned it loose with its discordant wail;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He dropped bread and jelly upon a big chair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thought of it only when Aunty sat there;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He sheared the pet poodle one midwinter day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His father is frantic, his mother is gray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His Aunt and his Grandma protest at his noise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then all forgive him, for boys will be boys.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He clamors for cookies, for jelly and jam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He shuts ne’er a door, but he gives it a slam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He dabbles in paint, be it red, blue or green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He loves to play hob with the sewing machine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then—well, he’s gone into trousers and vests,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For years must be passing and time never rests,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some day we look at a picture—and then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We wish—strange it is—that we had him again.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_NEIGHBORS_BOYS" id="THE_NEIGHBORS_BOYS"></a>THE NEIGHBOR’S BOYS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>OMEBODY shot our cat’s eye out,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ stole our gate an’ just about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Scared Aunt Sophia Jane to death<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So’s she could hardly get her breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By puttin’ on some sheets, all white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At just gave her a turble fright,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ who on earth do you suppose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Put on them big, white ghostes’ clothes<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ made that turble screechy noise?—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The neighbor’s boys!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ every night it’s dark, you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somebody plays some tick-tack-toe<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On folkeses’ windows what’s a-scared,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ just as if they never cared<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If they get caught or not, an’ when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’re gone to bed they come again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until you’re just so nervous you<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Don’t hardly know just what to do;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ who makes such a scary noise?<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The neighbor’s boys.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en somebody tears your clothes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ skins your face an’ hurts your nose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until it bleeds, an’ then your Ma<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Says ’at she never, never saw<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_010" id="ill_010"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_104fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_104fp.jpg" width="532" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>THE NEIGHBOR’S BOYS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>UCH heathen youngsters, an’ they come<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ break your sled an’ pound your drum<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until it busts, an’ wont go ’way,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It ain’t no matter what you say,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">An’ they’re the ones ’at break your toys—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The neighbor’s boys.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ my, it’s funny, ’cause, you know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You ain’t the only ones ’at’s so.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cause all the next door neighbors say<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It seems e’zactly the same way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ when their boys gets hurted so’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It gives ’em turble bloody nose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ some one shoots their cat’s eye out,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ plays tick-tack, they know about<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Who does it an’ who makes the noise—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The neighbor’s boys!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_QUIET_AFTERNOON" id="A_QUIET_AFTERNOON"></a>A QUIET AFTERNOON</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">M</span>Y Mamma, she did go to call about an hour ago,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">An’ said if I ain’t bad at all an’ stayed at home with Flo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is the maid that cooks for us, she’d bring me something good,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if I’m one bit misschefuss she didn’t think she would.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ my! I’m still, ’ist like a mouse. I never went outdoors,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ’ist sat down, inside the house, an’ took her bureau drawers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ emptied ’em ’ist one by one, an’ w’en they’re emptied ’en<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ’ist looked through what’s there for fun an’ put ’em back again!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en I found the nicest ink, an’ one of ’em was red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ one was black an’ ’en I think I spilt some on the bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my! I wiped it up, ’ist so, an’ sopped it with a quilt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So clean you wouldn’t hardly know it’s ever once been spilt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well, ’en I looked up on the shelf an’ found her scissors there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ got ’em down all by myself an’ cut off all my hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tuz I don’t think it’s nice for girls like me ’at’s almost through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">First reader to wear such a curls like Mamma makes me do.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’En Flo gave me some bread and jam, ’tuz I ’ist cried and cried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist tuz I’m hungry now, I am, an’ ’en I went inside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ maybe I did let it lay around the room somewhere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tuz Flo came in to watch me play and squoshed it on a chair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ after while I wish my Ma would ’ist come back, she would,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tuz my, I’m gettin’ drefful tired of simply bein’ good.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My eyes, ’ey’re ’ist so full of sand an’ heavy, ’ist like lead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh-oh! I dess it’s Sleepyland! I dess I’ll go to bed!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_OWNERLESS_TOYS" id="THE_OWNERLESS_TOYS"></a>THE OWNERLESS TOYS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>UR Uncle Bill’s attic is half full of toys,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">With some that are almost brand-new;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s got things up there for most all kinds of boys<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From ten years old clear down to two.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one day he gave me some books from up there<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like boys had a long time ago;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I asked if the boy they belong to would care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But he just sort of smiled and said no.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes we would go in his attic to play<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And find such a lot of fine things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A whole lot of picture books all piled away<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And tops that were wound up with strings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Uncle Bill told us to use what was there<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just as if it was ours, and we’d go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we’d ask if the boy they belong to would care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he just sort of smiled and said no.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And my! There were sleds with their runners all rust,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And five or six good pairs of skates,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some old-fashioned toys that were covered with dust,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And fishlines and schoolbooks and slates,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which Uncle Bill told us we fellows might share,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But always put back when we go;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we thought that the boy they belong to might care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But he just sort of smiled and said no.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the boy they belong to, I guess, was away.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At least, we all thought he must be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For all through the house they could hear us at play,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But he never came up there to see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we would pile everything back up with care<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And ask Uncle Bill when we’d go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If the boy they belong to would know we’d been there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But he just sort of smiled and said no.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our Uncle Bill’s attic is half full of toys,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some old ones and some almost new;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s got things up there for most all kinds of boys<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From ten years old clear down to two.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often when we boys go up there to play<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We ask Uncle Bill when we go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If the boy they belong to will be back that day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he smiles sort of sad and says no.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_STRANGER" id="THE_STRANGER"></a>THE STRANGER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>ERIOUS-minded little maid,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Wondering and half afraid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half inclined to speak with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half disposed to let me be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hesitating yet, and shy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half a twinkle in your eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half in doubt and half in fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Staying neither far nor near.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How I wonder what you see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With those eyes that question me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What the instinct bids you know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I may be friend or foe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fawnlike, full of grace and sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready with fast-flying feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the orchard’s deepest shade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find cover, little maid.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Grave and curious little lass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a wild bird in the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still intently watching me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your wings half spread, to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If my smile bodes good or ill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Willing to make friends and still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Undecided if to stay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here and near or fly away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Serious-minded little maid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, with smiles and unafraid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’er the lawn you come to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stranger to you though I be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When your curious eyes have tried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soul with mine and, satisfied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looked still into mine and smiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blessed am I, little child.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Blessed am I to be just<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Worthy of your childish trust,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More than conqueror of kings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the wild bird of your wings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bids you fly not forth but see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something tender, kind, in me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, the gladness you have laid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At my heart’s gate, little maid!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="IN_VACATION_TIME" id="IN_VACATION_TIME"></a>IN VACATION TIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HERE’S a hole in his hat with the hair sticking through,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And a toe that peeps out from a hole in his shoe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a patch in his trousers, a darn in his hose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a freckle that tilts on the bridge of his nose;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh, in his heart there’s the glimmer and shine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a sun that I wish could be shining in mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s a smudge on his face that is dusty and dark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a song in his heart like the song of a lark;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a rent in his coat where the lining shows through,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the whistle he tunes to the wild bird is true;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, oh, in his heart, with a sparkle like wine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is a gladness I wish could be sparkling in mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s an imp in his hair that may keep it awry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a twinkle so rare in the blue of his eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s an uneven slant of his trousers, made fast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a nail through their tops, for a button won’t last;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But deep in his heart lies a spring cool and fine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of good cheer that I wish could be bubbling in mine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s a tan on his cheek where the flush of health glows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the skin has all peeled from the tip of his nose;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His pockets are bulged with tops, marbles and strings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With jack-knives and other uncountable things;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the brooks and the woods bring a music divine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his ears that I wish they were bringing to mine.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BEREAVED" id="BEREAVED"></a>BEREAVED</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">G</span>UESS he must be awful old; we had him years and years,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And he’s so old the ends were worn all off of both his ears.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He couldn’t hardly eat, because his teeth were all worn out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all his legs got stiff, so he could hardly drag about.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One day he lay down by the house, right near the cellar door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gasped and gasped for breath, until he couldn’t any more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I went out and patted him, and when he heard me call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He looked at me and wagged his tail, which died the last of all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My! he was black and curly once, when he was new and young,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he would open up his mouth at us and curl his tongue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just like he laughed, and play with us; and he would go into<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The creek, and bring our hats to us, or anything we threw.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In winter we would hitch him up, and he would haul our sled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And walk or trot or run with it, or anything we said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So when he wagged his tail at me I laid him right beside<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cellar door, and then I went behind the barn and cried.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He was a friend of all the boys, and when they came to play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d wag his tail and bark and look at them the smartest way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he’d pretend to bite at them and nip their pants, but he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would never bite, ’cause he was just as kind as he could be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Henry Watson looked at him beside the cellar door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said, “He’ll never haul us boys on our sled any more.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He turned his ears back straight and nice; he liked him awful well;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because he had tears in his eyes, and then a big one fell.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So after while we got a spade, and Billy Gibson came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Tommy Dean and Eddie Brink, and they all felt the same.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We dug some turf up in the yard, right underneath a tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And laid him in and left him there, all covered carefully;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was an awful solemn day for all of us, for though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d got worn out and couldn’t eat, we boys all liked him so;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Eddie Brink, he didn’t think the Lord would really care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If we boys sang a hymn for him and said a little prayer.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My! it was awful sad that day! And Tommy said he thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We wouldn’t play that afternoon, because he’d rather not.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Mamma made some nice ice-cream, which cheered us up, but when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We wanted her to eat she said she couldn’t eat just then.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Amy Robbins heard of it, and brought some leaves and flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To scatter over him, because he was a friend of ours;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I told her I patted him, and when he heard me call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He looked at me and wagged his tail, which died the last of all.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="TWO_LITTLE_MAIDS" id="TWO_LITTLE_MAIDS"></a>TWO LITTLE MAIDS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">L</span>ITTLE Miss Nothing-to-do<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Is fretful and cross and so blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the light in her eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is all dim when she cries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her friends, they are few, Oh, so few!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her dolls, they are nothing but sawdust and clothes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whenever she wants to go skating it snows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything’s criss-cross, the world is askew!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wouldn’t be Little Miss Nothing-to-do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now, true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wouldn’t be Little Miss Nothing-to-do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would you?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little Miss Busy-all-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is cheerful and happy and gay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she isn’t a shirk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For she smiles at her work<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she romps when it comes time for play.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her dolls, they are princesses, blue-eyed and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She makes them a throne from a rickety chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything happens the jolliest way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d rather be Little Miss Busy-all-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d rather be Little Miss Busy-all-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I say.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_NEW_CHRISTMAS_CAROL" id="A_NEW_CHRISTMAS_CAROL"></a>A NEW CHRISTMAS CAROL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">C</span>OME, children, I’ll tell you a wonderful tale,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">I learned it one night in a dream;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The snow lay all white and the full moon shone pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The housetops about were agleam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d fallen asleep in my big easy chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I heard a gruff voice in my ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I knew that Saint Nicholas surely was there<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And listened to see what I’d hear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Come, follow with me,” were the first words he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“I’m off for my Palace of Snow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve emptied my pack of each doll, toy and sled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It’s time for old Santa to go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, Oh, I’ve a treat waiting for me tonight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’ve planned it for years in my mind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, follow with me, while the moon is still bright”—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I rose and we sped like the wind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We flew like a flash to the Palace of Snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By hilltop and valley and plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever I will be permitted, I know,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To make such a journey again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there in the warmest and cosiest nook<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">He bade me sit down while he dressed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In robes of rich scarlet and said to me: “Look!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Here come the Child Hosts of the Blest.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A flash of his eye and my wonderment grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A word and a wave of his rod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forth came Orphan Annie and Little Boy Blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Wynken and Blynken and Nod.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Alice from Wonderland, blue-eyed and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tom Tucker—Jack Horner with him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Oh, at the last, can you guess who was there?—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Poor Topsy and Dear Tiny Tim!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He spread out his arms and they passed one by one,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Each laden with treasures and toys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never or ever a night of such fun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was passed by such girls and such boys;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever will Annie be orphan with him,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He told me, and Little Boy Blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came back from the shadows all misty and dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So glad that the toy dog was true.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And always and always he’ll keep them with him,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He told me, through all of the years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor Topsy and Alice and Dear Tiny Tim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Topsy will know no more tears.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But tales of them all he will bring Christmas night,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The brightest and sweetest and best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That our boys and girls may know joy and delight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From Santa’s Child Hosts of the Blest!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_RECONCILIATION_OF_PA" id="THE_RECONCILIATION_OF_PA"></a>THE RECONCILIATION OF PA</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">M</span>Y Pa, he’s disappointed tuz I ain’t a boy. ’At is<br /></span> -<span class="ih">He ain’t now but he used to was. He likes me tuz I’m his<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ buys me lots of toys an’ things; but w’en I first begun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ma said he’s awful fond of boys an’ ’ist wished I was one.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now he don’t care any more, tuz I’m growed up so nice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He likes me better ’n before, an’ there ain’t any price<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At you could offer him for me an’ he would take it, tuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m so much nicer, don’t you see, ’an my Pa thought I was.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">W’en I’m come first my Mamma said ’at he ’ud ruther I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ud been a boy the stork ’ud brought; she says she don’t see w’y,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tuz she ’ist thinks ’at little girls are awful nice, an’ w’en<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You wash ’eir face an’ brush ’eir turls, ’ey’re nicer ’n ever ’en.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he is disappointed tuz at first he didn’t know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How rilly truly nice I was; but w’en I came to grow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He wouldn’t take the world for me, so he told Ma, ’ist tuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m so much nicer, don’t you see, ’an my Pa thought I was.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ my Ma says ’at if I grow up ’ist so nice an’ sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I am now, my Pa ’ll know ’at stork was hard to beat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ he won’t never wish again ’at I’m a boy, ’ist tuz<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll know how sweet I am, an’ ’en he’s glad I’m w’at I was;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tuz boys are awful nice at first, ’at is, you think they are,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en they’re big they’re ’ist the worst! An’ girls is better far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Ma says if you want ’em sweet, ’ist sweet as sweet can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’ll find it awful hard to beat a little girl like me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_WORLD_WITHOUT_CARE" id="A_WORLD_WITHOUT_CARE"></a>A WORLD WITHOUT CARE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HERE’S a song that is sweet<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And a whistle that’s clear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a dog at his feet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And another one near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a fish in the brook<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a line that is whirled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a worm on a hook—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All is well with the world.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s a rock that has slipped<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the bank to the brink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a hat that is dipped<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the brook for a drink;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a line that is cast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where an eddy is swirled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a fat perch caught fast—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All is well with the world.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s a heartful of joy<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a handful of fish,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a satisfied boy<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Glad as gladness could wish;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are leaves green and cool<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the fat perch is curled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are more in the pool—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All is well with the world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s an angler come home<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At the close of the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a chirp in the gloam<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of a whistle so gay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a monster near-caught<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the foam danced and curled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a meal piping hot—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All is well with the world.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="RIGHT_AFTER_SCHOOL" id="RIGHT_AFTER_SCHOOL"></a>RIGHT AFTER SCHOOL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> KNOW where’s the happiest Kingdom in all of the world I have seen,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">No bigger than Grandfather’s orchard, and all of it’s grassy and green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It has but a few dozen people, the happiest youngsters alive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis ruled by a Princess of seven, and one little soldier of five;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s one little crown made of daisies and one little sword made of tin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one little drum that goes rolling betimes with a terrible din;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’d think that a war was beginning by all of the noise that is made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, really, it’s only the army declaring itself on parade.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In all of the bounds of the Kingdom there isn’t a book or a chore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The reign of the Princess begins when the schoolday is over at four;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her castle with turrets and towers is right near a big apple tree.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It isn’t a visible castle, but if you were there you could see;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if you should chance to be looking that way when the proud Princess comes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’d see a bold soldier go marching and hear a fierce rattle of drums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’d see loyal subjects and happy, with no thought of table or rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’d want to belong to the Kingdom—the Kingdom of Right-After-School!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It’s really a well-behaved people—they put by their slates and their books<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And have little use for an army except as a matter of looks;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But nobody dares say addition, division, subtraction—if you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should mention a one of these subjects the tin sword would run you right through!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But you can say swinging or jumping or follow-my-leader, nor fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You break any law of the country—and if from your window you hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A chorus of voices or laughter, when evening grows twilit and cool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’ll know ’tis the music they make in the Kingdom of Right-After-School!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s not a sad heart in the Kingdom, nor ever or ever a tear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all of the sorrows of schooldays are lost or forgotten in here;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The make-believe fairies go singing with songs that are wondrously sweet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The green turf is flecked with white dresses and patters with fast-flying feet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s just between School’s-Out and Teatime—an hour or so of the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often I see them there crowning with daisies the Princess of Play;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then some one calls: “Supper-time, children!”—when evening grows twilit and cool.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It fades from my sight till tomorrow—the Kingdom of Right-After-School!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_PLEA_FOR_OLD_FRIENDS" id="A_PLEA_FOR_OLD_FRIENDS"></a>A PLEA FOR OLD FRIENDS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> WAS fond, indeed, of Paul Revere,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">In the days of my earlier age,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the picture of him stands out clear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the old school reader page;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I’ve seen the light in the belfry tower,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’ve heard the hoof beats, too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, alas! alas! in an evil hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They say it’s all untrue!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And Barbara Frietchie—all these years,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From guileless boyhood down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve seen the flag and heard the cheers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In far off Fredericktown;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I’ve seen Jackson lift his hat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bid his troops march on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now, alas! they tell me that<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is a dreamer’s tale, and gone!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And oft at night, as though ’t were real,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’ve heard the flame’s wild roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve seen Jim Bludso hold the wheel<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the last galoot’s ashore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I thought the better of men for it,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And of duty to die or do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But some wise men, of little wit,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Say none of the tale is true.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, leave me the ride of Paul Revere<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the story of Fredericktown!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The nozzle agin’ th’ bank—so clear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From guileless boyhood down!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave me the curfew that was not rung,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leave them for me and you;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let more songs like these be sung,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Though none of the tales be true!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_BOYVILLE_CADETS" id="THE_BOYVILLE_CADETS"></a>THE BOYVILLE CADETS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>ARK! What is that clatter and patter of feet?<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The Boyville Cadets are half-way up the street!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They march two by two, a most bloodthirsty horde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Led by Captain Tom Jones, with a big wooden sword.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’re mostly barelegged and coatless and brown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A make-believe army from all parts of town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With guns on their shoulders all whittled from lath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And woe to the foeman who crosses their path.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bob Brown has a fife and Bill Blake has a drum.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See now in what martial procession they come;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jim Dobbs waves the flag with victorious flirt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A long willow pole with a red woolen shirt.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Corporal Brownlegs, he squints down the line:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Attention! Right shoulder! Guide right!” Oh, it’s fine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To know you’ve no troubles, no worries, no debts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And march down the street with the Boyville Cadets!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now Sergeant Big Freckles cries, “Hep! Hep!” and “Hep!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see that the army keeps right perfect step.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And General Red Hair reins up with great force,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To shout some command from his make-believe horse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then Captain Tom Jones gives a formal salute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And rests his big sword on the toe of his boot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For woe to the foe that harasses or frets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The solid platoon of the Boyville Cadets!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then Corporal Barefoot is ordered to scout<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For bloodthirsty redskins, and look all about.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They march, single file, through the thick-growing trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For favorite haunts of the red men are these.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far off in the woods, is an ear-splitting shout.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! ’Tis the death-cry of Barefoot, the scout!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now all the air rings with war-whoops and cries;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bang! bang! go the laths, and the red savage dies!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A hand-to-hand fight, and the battle is done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the orchard the redskins lie dead, every one.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, oh, woe is me! For all gory and red<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lies Barefoot, the scout, by the red men struck dead!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Boyville Cadets lift him out of the dirt;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They wrap him about with the old woolen shirt;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then, with drums muffled and heads sadly bowed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They bear him back home, with the flag for a shroud.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then General Red Hair, in orders, gives thanks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To all of his soldiers, and bids them break ranks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For out of the distance he hears a shrill call:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Tom! Joe! Bill! Jim! Children! Why, where are you all?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then Barefoot, the scout, to his life is restored,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Captain Tom Jones hides his big wooden sword;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For there’s wood to be split and there’s water to get<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the dull private life of the Boyville Cadet.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_LITTLE_BOY_I_KNOW" id="A_LITTLE_BOY_I_KNOW"></a>A LITTLE BOY I KNOW</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">A</span> LITTLE boy I used to know, from whom I’ve been away,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Oh, very many years, took me upon a trip today.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seemed so ood to be with him, and he was glad to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Companion, guide, and friend until the journey’s end with me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I quite forgot my cares with him, nor could I well be sad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As long as he was at my side, for he was blithe and glad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, the merry songs he sang, the tunes he whistled clear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I had half forgotten till he sang and whistled here!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By many a winding stream we went, and many a limpid brook,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where oft he bade me stop and cast a line and fishing hook<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until we drew a struggling fish from out some eddy deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And once upon the bank we lay and both fell fast asleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">By clover meadows sweet we strayed, where cow bells tinkled far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep in the woods where hollow logs and darting squirrels are,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here and there he bade me stop till he would climb a tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To shake a limb and rattle down some nuts for him and me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Down many a shady lane we walked, through some familiar land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where dreams of faces long forgot arose on every hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We saw a cottage by the road, and in the kitchen door<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A woman with the sweetest face—a glimpse and nothing more.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as she vanished from our sight I saw the teardrops shine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In both his eyes, and I could feel the tears well up in mine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He plucked his shabby sleeve to brush the teardrops from his eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whispered, “I saw Mother there!” and I said, “So did I!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there were spreading apple trees where oft he bade me lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the grass and watch the clouds that swept across the sky.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He lent me many a dream to dream—of fame and love and truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such dreams as Fancy stores within the Treasureheart of Youth!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ofttimes we found a sparkling spring and lay upon the brink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our lips laved with its bubbling stream, to drink and drink and drink;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, the joys we two renewed, and oh, the hum of bees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The songs of birds, the violets and treasures such as these!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A little boy I used to know, a lad of nine or ten,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Took me a journey glad today—I hope he’ll come again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To take my hand and walk with me where golden sunshine gleams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lead me by familiar ways and lend me all his dreams!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To keep me near the hopes we had, to whistle merry tunes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find me dawns like those we knew and sunny afternoons;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little boy his Mother loved!—a lad of nine or ten;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps you’ve known and walked with him—I hope he comes again!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ASLEEP_AT_THE_CIRCUS" id="ASLEEP_AT_THE_CIRCUS"></a>ASLEEP AT THE CIRCUS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">N</span>OW the last roasted peanut is swallowed,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The last clown has gone on parade;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The last sugared popcorn been followed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By sips of the last lemonade.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eyes, once so big, that shone brightly<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through all of the glad afternoon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are shut, and his fingers close tightly<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And cling to his gaudy balloon.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The last acrobat’s been applauded,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And shuffled his way from the mat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The last bareback rider’s been lauded;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The clown, with his sugar-loaf hat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has gone with his powder and spangles;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The diver has made his last leap;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here in my arms are brown tangles<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of curls, and a boy fast asleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One sticky hand rests on my shoulder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">One holds fast the gaudy balloon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That shrinks, and before it’s much older<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will fade like the glad afternoon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His dreams, it may be, of the maddest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of somersaults, recklessly hurled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tiredest, sleepiest, gladdest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And stickiest lad in the world!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And oh, but the spangles were splendid!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And oh, but the music was grand!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The side-splitting clown laughter blended<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With soul-stirring airs by the band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till naught of the glad marvel lingers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Save what in his dreams he may keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As he clasps his balloon with close fingers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And rests in my arms, fast asleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And so from these joys without number,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere aught of the glitter was gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He went to his dream-laden slumber,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where on plays the music, and on.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For him all the revel is maddest,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For him not a flag has been furled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tiredest, sleepiest, gladdest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And stickiest lad in the world!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_011" id="ill_011"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_136fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_136fp.jpg" width="518" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>ASLEEP AT THE CIRCUS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_BARRIERS" id="THE_BARRIERS"></a>THE BARRIERS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>CRUB out his freckles, ’twas Nature who gave ’em;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Silence his whistle and comb out his hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muffle his footsteps, for People—Lord save ’em em—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Want something noiseless and soulless and fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bleach out the spots where the Summer sun kissed him,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Still all the tunes and the bird calls he knew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, when he’s boy no more, who could resist him?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sun and the Wind, here’s a lesson for you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sun and the Wind and the freshness of showers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How could you tempt him to revel and roam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Past the long hedges and through the wild flowers?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did you not know it would cost him a home?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did you not know when the gay bluebird glistened<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up on the bough and with wonder he rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose with his heart beating glad, as he listened,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did you not know it would freckle his nose?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hide your heads, Daisies, that wave over yonder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Gleam in the sunlight and dance by the creek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You bade him leave the pale shadow and wander—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did you not know he might freckle his cheek?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">You, too, the larks through the green meadows winging,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did you not tempt him with glad song and free?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why did you not let him learn through your singing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He would be outcast through following thee?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Heartless blackberries, you led him from shelter;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nuts, without shame, you did bid him to climb;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Butterflies bright, that he chased helter-skelter,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have you no shame for the depths of your crime?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What if the heart of him beats but the truer,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What if the soul of him still sweeter grows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What if the eyes of him sparkle the truer,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Do you not see you have freckled his nose?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Scrub out the freckles—oh, well, doesn’t matter;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Maybe they’ll wash out with plentiful tears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muffle his footsteps, that no boyish patter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rise to offend supersensitive ears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bid him not whistle the songs the fields taught him,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Let him be pale, still, anaemic, and thin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Teach him and bleach him, and when you have got him<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thoroughly colorless, let him come in!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_PLAINT_OF_THE_NEW_DOLL" id="THE_PLAINT_OF_THE_NEW_DOLL"></a>THE PLAINT OF THE NEW DOLL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>E dot a doll to our house;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">It tum on Trissmus day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It wuzn’t hangin’ on a tree;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It tum some uzzer way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey wouldn’t let me play wiz it,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Ey said ’at it might fall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En so it laid ’ere all day long<br /></span> -<span class="i2">En squall en squall en squall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’E funniestes’ ’ittle sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Espeshully fer a doll;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En Mamma told me wen it tum<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It wuzn’t dressed at all;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey only let me take one peek,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I ast ’em if I tould<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Es press to see if it would squeak<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like my own dolly would.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">En ’en ’ey laughed en laughed en laughed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">En wouldn’t tell me why;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dess tant ’magine why ’ey laughed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It ain’t no use t’ try;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En how ’ey fussed en fussed en fussed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">En I dess almos’ all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’E uncles en ’e aunts I dot<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tum in to see ’at doll.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">En ’en ’ey laughed en Papa laughed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Es like a silly boy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never saw growed up folks make<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Such fuss about a toy.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dess I dot mos’ fifteen dolls,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’E nices’ ever wuz,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En never tissed one half as much<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As my own Papa does.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I dess ’ey’ve everyone fordot<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’At I’m ’eir little dirl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey haven’t changed my dress today,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My hair’s all out of turl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey’s tandy on my face an’ hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I don’t look nice at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey’ve everyone fordotten me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fer dess a nasty doll!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wis’ ’et I tould det it onct;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’d frow it all about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En knock it—so! En slap it—so!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">En shake its sawdust out;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En ’en w’en ’ey saw how it looked<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I dess know ’ey’d all be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ez dlad ez tould be ’ess t’ have<br /></span> -<span class="i2">One little dirl—like me!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_CHILDS_ALMANAC" id="A_CHILDS_ALMANAC"></a>A CHILD’S ALMANAC</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">M</span>Y Mamma says ’at w’en it rains<br /></span> -<span class="ih">’Ey’re washin’ Heaven’s window-panes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ careless angels ’ist do fill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Eir pails too full an’ ’atway spill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some water down on us. ’At’s w’y<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It rains some days w’en maybe I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would like to play. An’ ’en she says<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s ’ist ’em angels’ carelessness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At makes ’em raindrops fall ’at way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At picnics an’ on circus day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Mamma says ’at w’en it snows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey’re angels pickin’ geese, she knows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’stead o’ usin’ ’em t’ stuff<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Eir pillow cases, ’ey ’ist puff<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ blow an’ don’t clear up ’eir muss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till all ’em feathers fall on us.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ she says ’ey ’ist pick ’atway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz ’ey want geese f’r Tris’mus day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’at’s w’y ’ere’s ’e mostes’ snow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right close t’ Tris’mus time, you know.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Mamma says w’en wind ’ist roars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ blows, ’at’s w’en ’e angels snores,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But w’en it lightnings, she says, w’y,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey’re scratchin’ matches on ’e sky.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ w’en it rumbles ’bove our heads<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ey’re movin’ furniture an’ beds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up ’ere, an’ cleanin’ house an’ shakes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Eir moth balls out an’ ’at’s w’at makes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It hail. An’ weather, she ’ist ’clares<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is ’ist w’at angels does upstairs.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_LOSER" id="THE_LOSER"></a>THE LOSER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HE sun withheld its light that day; that night the stars were dim;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The portent of the earth and sky was ominous for him;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was no gladness in the world; the fields held no delight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day of all his joys dissolved and melted into night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rubbed his pitching arms and felt the muscles rise and fall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He wondered what the cruel fate that lost the game of ball;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He wandered idly by the brook, forsaken and alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be a hero nevermore, unsung, unwept, unknown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Twas only yesterday he was the idol of the team!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those cheers and loud hurrahs he heard—could they have been a dream?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They called him Tim the Tiger then! Small boys by scores he saw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bear his glove, his coat, his shoes, with gratitude and awe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With joy they saw his arm laid bare—that mighty arm and brown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That wound itself about his head and mowed the batsmen down;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he went upon the field, the mighty cheer for him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Showed how their hopes of victory were all bound up in Tim!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was but yesterday he bore the laurels on his brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But who, alas! is there so low to do him honor now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His heart swells, bursting in his chest; the heart so bruised and sore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could he but go back on the field and pitch that game once more!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tears fall from his eyes like rain, the hot and angry tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No sorrow has he known like this in all his fifteen years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How will he meet the Tigers now? How look intothe eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of those who staked their all on him and saw him lose the prize?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To school he walks secluded ways where once with pride he strode,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With awestruck youngsters all about, the middle of the road;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far from the madding crowd he stands upon the playground there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His honors fallen like the leaves in Autumn’s frosty air;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A humble Tiger is he now, and small boys pass him by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With cruel sneers where once he heard the cheers ring shrill and high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Reddy Blake, the Cyclone Curve, is pitcher forthe team,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While he’s but the somnambulist of a quick-vanished dream!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BACK_TO_SCHOOL" id="BACK_TO_SCHOOL"></a>BACK TO SCHOOL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">F</span>ELL in the creek twice yesterday!<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Slipped and slid from a load of hay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stepped on a stone and bruised my toe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hardly walk ’cause I’m blistered so;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hit my knee till it’s blue and black,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sat in the sun and burned my back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I went to swim, but my, I’m glad!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Best vacation I ever had.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Slid off the old red barn last week.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind all gone so I couldn’t speak<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When they laid me in upon the bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And put cold water on my head.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Got poison-ivy on my legs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I went in the weeds to look for eggs;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I’ve had more fun since I don’t know when!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hate to go back to school again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Burned my hands till they’re awful sore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the calf ran out of the big barn door<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I tried to hold the rope and fell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most twenty feet down the old dry well.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lost my hat that was almost new,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the great big lake, when the high wind blew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my pants are torn from many a climb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I never had such a summer-time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ate poison berries by the creek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till they thought I’d die, I felt so sick;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But they gave me ipecac to take,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it cured up all my stomach-ache!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Got stung by bees, but I got stung best<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I started home with a hornet’s nest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I all swelled up; but I’m gone down now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it’s all in a boy’s life, anyhow!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nose all peeled till it’s red and rough,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hands all brown, but I’m awful tough<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the exercise, and I’m big and strong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cause I hoed in a corn-field all day long.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my uncle said that I might stay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For harvest-time, and he’d give me pay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I’d like to stay, but I have to go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back home to school, ’cause my Ma said so.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DISENCHANTMENTS" id="DISENCHANTMENTS"></a>DISENCHANTMENTS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>ERE is the brook where the bold pirates ferried,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Swashbuckling wretches, cold-blooded, unkind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here is the tree where vast treasure was buried,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Doubloons we dug for but never could find.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How things have changed since these waters were riven,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Splashed with our paddles and churned into foam!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since the dark nights when the pickaxe was driven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the lost treasure lay under the loam!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here is the wood with its fastness unbounded,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whence the red savage stole noiselessly out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Warning us not till his warwhoop was sounded,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leaving us scalped on the greensward about.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How things have changed from the steed and the stirrup,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flintlock and tomahawk whittled from lath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where our blood ran there’s no fluid but syrup<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the sap maples along our war path!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here is the plain where our scouts reconnoitred,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Crawling and creeping through morass and glade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sighting some bloodthirsty savage who loitered<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Near by the scene of some scalp-lifting raid.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">How things have changed since the red deer went leaping,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Since came the bison by hundreds to browse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silent the plain where our brave scouts went creeping,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Save for the lowing of far distant cows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here is the cave where our clans were assembled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Guarded by sentries, nor traitor could reach;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ghostly and tomb-like, where heroes dissembled<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blood-chilling fears in their boldness of speech.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bruce had a refuge here, Wallace lay wounded,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hallowed its clammy walls, safe its retreat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once ’twas a labyrinth, gloomy, unsounded,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis but a gravel pit, just off the street.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How things have changed in the years since we knew them,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pirate and redskin and treasure and clan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men walk beside them and past them and through them,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Giving no heed that our blood there once ran;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Making no sign for the struggles that swept them,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flintlock and scalplock, raid, warfare, and strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How things have changed since we cherished and kept them!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All of the romance has gone out of life!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_RAINY_NIGHT" id="A_RAINY_NIGHT"></a>A RAINY NIGHT</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">’B</span>OUT eight o’clock first night that we<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Were down at the academy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas awful rainy out, and so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We both of us stayed in, you know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we could hear the wind and rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come splashing on the window-pane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And after while, why, Henry Stout<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put up the curtain and looked out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said, “My! Ain’t she coming down!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wish I was in Beaverstown.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then nobody spoke at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just listened to the rain-drops fall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Henry sniffled up his nose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because he had a cold, I s’pose.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he said, “I wonder how<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our folks are getting on by now.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I said, “Oh, I guess all right.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My! Ain’t it rainy out to-night!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Henry gave a great big sigh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And swallowed hard—and so did I.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then he said, “My! Such a noise!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I guess there’s lots of homesick boys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around tonight.” And I said, “Oh,”—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just careless like—“Oh, I don’t know.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he said, “I guess Jim Brown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is glad he stayed in Beaverstown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And didn’t have to come down here.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I said, “Do your eyes feel queer?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I got a speck in mine, I guess,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They water so.” And he said, “Yes.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then he looked and tried to smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we kept still for quite a while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heard it rain; and then he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I s’pose our folks are gone to bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sound asleep by now, I guess.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then I swallowed and said, “Yes.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So then we both got into bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heard it rain; and then he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“My! Ain’t she just a-pouring down!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wish I was in Beaverstown.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="KITCHEN_MIRACLES" id="KITCHEN_MIRACLES"></a>KITCHEN MIRACLES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>N Aunt Amelia’s kitchen there are many wonders done,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Such miracles are wrought as never seen beneath the sun:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pumpkin from the garden—just a yellow sphere that lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath her skilful handling ripens quickly into pies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The corn grows into fritters, you must marvel at the change;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The apples change to dumplings in the glowing kitchen range<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She waves her hands above it, and the milk is cottage cheese.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You merely watch her, and you see such miracles as these.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She finds it easy, quite, to make blueberries into rolls;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eggs are changed to omelets above the glowing coals;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes when she’s fixing the materials for pies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She turns cider into mince-meat right before your very eyes!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes she makes a currant roll—you would not think she could—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or makes a peach turn over, or does something just as good;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she says quite the hardest task that ever she has found<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is, when she has her boys at tea, to make these things go ’round!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="JIM_BRADYS_BIG_BROTHER" id="JIM_BRADYS_BIG_BROTHER"></a>JIM BRADY’S BIG BROTHER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">J</span>IM Brady’s big brother’s a wonderful lad,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And wonderful, wonderful muscles he had;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He swung by one arm from the limb of a tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hung there while Jim counted up forty-three<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as slow as he could; and he leaped at a bound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across a wide creek and lit square on the ground<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as light as a deer; and the things he can do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So Jimmy told us, you would hardly think true.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jim Brady’s big brother could throw a fly ball<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From center to home just like nothing at all;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And often while playing a game he would stand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And take a high fly with just only one hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jim Brady showed us where he knocked a home run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And won the big game when it stood three to one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the home team, and Jim Brady, he showed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The place where it lit in the old wagon road!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jim Brady’s big brother could bat up a fly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That you hardly could see, for it went up so high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’d bring up his muscle and break any string<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That you tied on his arm like it wasn’t a thing!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He used to turn handsprings, and cart-wheels, and he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could jump through his hands just as slick as could be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And circuses often would want him to go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And be in the ring, but his mother said no.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jim Brady’s big brother would often make bets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With boys that he’d turn two complete summersets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From off of the spring-board before he would dive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you’d hardly think he would come up alive;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nobody ever who went there to swim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could do it, but it was just easy for him;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they’d all be scared, so Jim said, when he’d stay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In under and come up a half mile away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jim Brady’s big brother, so Jim said, could run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Five miles in a race just as easy as one.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right often he walked on his hands half a block<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And could have walked more if he’d wanted to walk!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Jimmy says wait till he comes home from school,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where he is gone now, and some day, when it’s cool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll get him to prove everything to be true<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Jimmy told us his big brother could do!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_SCAPEGOAT" id="THE_SCAPEGOAT"></a>THE SCAPEGOAT</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>F anybody comes in late<br /></span> -<span class="ih">To dinner and don’t shut the gate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or doesn’t sweep the porch, or go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right out and shovel off the snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or bring in wood or wipe his feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or leave the woodshed nice and neat—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It’s me!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If anybody doesn’t think<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To carry out the cow a drink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or tracks mud on the kitchen floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or doesn’t shut the cellar door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or leaves the broom out on the stoop,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or doesn’t close the chicken coop—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It’s me!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If anybody doesn’t bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hammer in, or breaks a thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or dulls the axe, or doesn’t know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What has become of so-and-so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That’s lost for maybe six weeks past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If anybody had it last—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It’s me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If anything is lost or gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ve got some one to blame it on;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I get the blame for all the rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I am the little-est;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if they have to blame some one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For what is or what isn’t done—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">It’s me!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_TRAGEDY_OF_CENTER_FIELD" id="A_TRAGEDY_OF_CENTER_FIELD"></a>A TRAGEDY OF CENTER FIELD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>E muffed the fly that lost the game; he never did before;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The boys don’t think he’ll ever be light-hearted any more.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our captain didn’t say a word; he just picked up his bat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And started home with downcast head—what words could equal that?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nobody spoke on our whole side, or didn’t even ask<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How Stubby came to muff the fly. Bud Hicks picked up his mask<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sighed an awful sorry sigh. Stub Weeks is not the same—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our boys don’t think he ever will, because he lost the game.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nobody asked him to explain. They couldn’t understand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How Stubby dropped it when he had the ball right in his hand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It sailed from Pudgy Williams’ bat and soared just like a bird<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To center field where Stubby was. Nobody hardly stirred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because it was so critical, but Bud Hicks gave a shout,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He knew a fly in center field was just as good as out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Stubby Weeks was under it. And then he gave a cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of agony too great for words when Stubby muffed the fly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our boys all slowly walked away, and even Red Blake’s team<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were too surprised to cheer because it seemed just like a dream.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over there in center field Stub Weeks was dreaming, too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As though he was Napoleon and this was Waterloo.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blow was such an awful one he acted sort of stunned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he walked in from the field expecting to be shunned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forevermore by all his friends. His throat was hoarse and dry;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We knew his heart was broken then because he muffed the fly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He saw us all pick up our things and walk away, and then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The awful stain upon his name came back to him again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He thought of how it should have been—the loud hurrahs and cheers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leaned against the back-stop fence and drenched it with his tears,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till all the boys felt sorry then, and told him not to mind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because the sun was in his eyes and must have made him blind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But weeks and weeks have passed since then—his heart is awful sore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our boys don’t think he’ll ever be light-hearted any more!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="IN_SWIMMING" id="IN_SWIMMING"></a>IN SWIMMING</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">’I</span>ST boys—th’ kind you used t’ know,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">What-d’-y’-call-him, So-and-so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ What’s-His-Name—an’ every one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist full o’ health an’ out for fun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No meanness in a one of us,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist brown an’ strong an’ mischievous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz that’s th’ way ’at boys all grow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Ist boys—th’ kind you used t’ know.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Ist boys—th’ kind you used t’ be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What! Never climbed an apple tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ shook ’em down? Why, Mister, you—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You never was a boy, real true.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll bet ’at you was mischievous<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As you could be. You’re foolin’ us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Cuz you can’t help but see ’at we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are boys—’ist like you used t’ be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Of course we ought t’ be at school,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my! The water’s nice an’ cool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ when it calls you, w’y, you ’ist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can’t be a real boy an’ resist.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ say! We caught a fish down there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Most two feet long—right close t’ w’ere<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’re standin’ now. Now don’t you see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’re boys—’ist like you used t’ be?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Say, you ain’t goin’ t’ tell our Ma<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’At you was passin’ by an’ saw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Us swimmin’ here. W’y, Mister, you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Won’t never feel right if you do.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t be a tattle-tale! W’y, say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If you should give us boys away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You couldn’t never bear to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A boy—’ist like you used t’ be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come on, now! You ain’t goin’ t’ tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On us. I know it, ’ist as well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As anythin’. You wouldn’t hurt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her feelin’s ’ist t’ do us dirt.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You won’t? Thanks, Mister. You’re a brick.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’re goin’ home, Sir, pretty quick.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s awful fine here, ’cuz, y’ see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’re boys—’ist like you used t’ be.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_012" id="ill_012"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_162fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_162fp.jpg" width="526" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>IN SWIMMING</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="AN_UNUSUAL_CHUM" id="AN_UNUSUAL_CHUM"></a>AN UNUSUAL CHUM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>ENRY Blake’s father goes fishing with him,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And goes in the creek so’s to teach him to swim;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He talks to him just like they’re awful close chums<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes at night he helps Henry do sums;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And once he showed Henry how he used to make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A basket by whittling a peach stone and take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bark off of willows for whistles although<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hadn’t made one since a long time ago.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake’s father is just like his chum,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he goes fishing he lets Henry come;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He fixes two seats on the bank of the brook<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And shows Henry how to put frogs on his hook;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes he laughs in the jolliest way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At some little thing that he hears Henry say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dips up a drink in his hat like you do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When only just boys go a-fishing with you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Henry Blake’s father will take him and stay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somewhere in the woods for a half holiday<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wear his old clothes and bring home a big sack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of hick’ries and walnuts to help Henry crack;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sit on a dead log somewhere in the shade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To eat big sandwiches his mother has made;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Henry Blake’s father, he don’t seem as though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s more than his uncle, he likes Henry so!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="AND_JUST_THEN" id="AND_JUST_THEN"></a>AND JUST THEN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">D</span>ON’T you remember when the ship, the pirate ship, that flew<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The black flag with the gleaming skull, in the fierce gale that blew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went on the rocks? I think it was upon the Spanish Main;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sails were torn to tatters and there fell a driving rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The air was pierced with cries of fear, shocks followed upon shocks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Come, man the lifeboats,” called the mate, “the ship is on the rocks!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And just when lightnings rent the air and all the sky was red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your mother said, “You’ve read enough, my boy! It’s time for bed!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Don’t you remember when the score stood six to six, until<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The very ending of the game and every heart stood still?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Red Sox pitcher took his place, while not a watcher stirred,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A hit, a pass, an error and a runner got to third.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t you remember, as you read, you almost heard the crack<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">As bat met ball and you could feel cold chills go down your back?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And just as you had but a page to find which players led,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your mother said, “You’ve read enough, my boy! It’s time for bed!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Don’t you remember when Wild Bill and Deadshot Dick, the scout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were prisoned in the rocky cave with redskins all about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all their ammunition gone, nor food to eat, as they<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had been a thousand times before, but always got away?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The war-whoops rang out fierce and shrill. Said Dick, “I have a plan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We will escape or sell our lives as dearly as we can.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And just as you turned o’er the page to see what plans they’d lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The clock struck nine—your mother came and took the book away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, Captain Kidd, it seemed to me when you went on the rock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You always timed the hour of it to be at nine o’clock!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Dick, the scout, the redskins came and fell on you with rage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just when my boyhood bed time came and I turned down the page!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Spike, the wizard of the slab, who mowed the batsmen down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like blades of grass, the hero of the little country town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You seemed to time the crisis of your fiercest game, someway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At nine o’clock, when Mother came and took the book away!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="AFTERWARD" id="AFTERWARD"></a>AFTERWARD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>’M glad I was always so good to her;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">I was just up there in the nursery<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Picking up things—you know—that were<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Left strewn about as carelessly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As a child will do when she’s called from play;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I picked them up with a mist and blur<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In my eyes, and I laid them all away—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’m glad I was always so good to her.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And many’s the picture that came to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That came to me o’er a Teddy bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or a doll or a whole tin infantry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Arrayed in a battle column there;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Picture on picture of girls and girls<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(One year and two years and three) that were;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of pinafores and blue frocks and curls—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’m glad I was always so good to her.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dreams on dreams and they ride me down,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Column and phalanx, and voices call;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grasses grow green and come sere and brown,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And leaves bud, blossom and blow and fall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She had been six now—and seven—and ten—<br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>So</i> tall—and <i>so</i> tall—how fair they were,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How fair they were and they would have been,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Those lost ones—I’m glad I was good to her.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CIRCUS_DAY" id="CIRCUS_DAY"></a>CIRCUS DAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>F you’re waking call me early, call me early, Mother dear.<br /></span> -<span class="ih">I think at 4 o’clock <small>A.M.</small>, the circus will be here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it was any other day ’twould take an awful shock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To rouse me from my little bed before quite 8 o’clock;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You needn’t mind my breakfast, for I’ll be in dreadful haste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if I see the cars unload I’ll have no time to waste;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps they’ll wash the cages, Ma, and I’ll be there to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The men take off the sideboards from the whole menagerie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you’re waking call me early, call me early, Mother dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because the place where it unloads is full two miles from here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d faint without my breakfast if ’twas any other day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I’ll be strong enough, I think, to run quite all the way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boys I know will all be there; ’twill be a wondrous sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see the elephants led out before it’s hardly light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hear the lions roar, which makes goose pimples when you hear—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If you’re waking, call me early, call me early, Mother dear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you’re waking call me early, call me early, Mother dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No matter if you whisper it I’ll be quite sure to hear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I was being waked to turn the wringer it would be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A good deal harder job, of course, for you to waken me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I will leave my stockings on and put my shirt in place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if I’m rushed for time I will not need to wash my face;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the early morning light you’ll see me leaving here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About three minutes after four, so call me, Mother dear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you’re waking, call me early, call me early, Mother dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will not yawn and rub my eyes and ask if morning’s here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will not pull the covers up as I have done before<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ask you if I cannot sleep just half an hour more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll jump right out of bed as soon as ever you may call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And be all dressed and down the stair and gone out through the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before you say Jack Robinson—the circus will be here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At 4 o’clock, so call me early, early, Mother dear!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_TOUR_OF_A_SMILE" id="THE_TOUR_OF_A_SMILE"></a>THE TOUR OF A SMILE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">M</span>Y papa smiled this morning when<br /></span> -<span class="ih">He came down stairs, you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At Mamma; and when he smiled, then<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She turned and smiled at me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she smiled at me, I went<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And smiled at Mary Ann,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out in the kitchen and she lent<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It to the hired man.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So then he smiled at someone, who<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He saw, when going by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who also smiled and ere he knew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had twinkles in his eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So he went to his office then<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And smiled right at his clerk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who put some more ink on his pen<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And smiled back from his work.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So when his clerk went home he smiled<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Right at his wife, and she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smiled over at their little child<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As happy as could be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then their little child, she took<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The smile to school, and when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She smiled at teacher from her book,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Teacher smiled back again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then the teacher passed on one<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To little James McBride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who couldn’t get his lessons done,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No matter how he tried;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Jamesy took it home and told<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How teacher smiled at him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he was tired and didn’t scold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But said, “Don’t worry, Jim!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when I happened to be there<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That very night to play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His mother had a smile to spare<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which came across my way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then I took it after while<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Back home, and Mamma said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Here is that very self-same smile<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Come back with us to bed!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WHEN_GRANDPA_PLAYS" id="WHEN_GRANDPA_PLAYS"></a>WHEN GRANDPA PLAYS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> DON’t know what makes Grandpa tired; he’s hardly done a thing<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Except to put some hammocks up and help us children swing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He only came an hour ago, and we’ve been here all day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He says we’re most too much for him and thinks he’ll hardly stay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He just played drop-the-handkerchief and blind man’s buff, but he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Says, My! we’ve got him out of breath and tired as he can be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He says it’s most too much for him to play leap-frog and ball,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we have been here all day long, and we’re not tired at all!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He started to play hide and seek, and first he had to blind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he ran with all his might to see who he could find,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Tommy Watkins beat him in from there behind a tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till Grandpa had to give it up and say, “All’s out’s in free!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he sat down on a stump and said he’s tired to death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had to hold his sides a while till he could catch his breath.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said he’d like to shake a tree and make some apples fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he’s too tired, and we boys here are hardly tired at all!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He only ran in under once when we were in the swing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then he had to rest because he’s tired as everything;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And once he showed us how to climb a great, tall tree, but when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He only got a few feet up he slid right down again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said he used to climb a tree, oh, very, very tall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sit across a branch way up and never tire at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now he’s out of practice, and his legs won’t stay around<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The trunk, and he feels safer when he stays down on the ground!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And sometimes when he goes back home and holds us by the hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All wringing wet and out of breath, our Ma says “Goodness, Land!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I think you are the youngest boy of all the boys in sight.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Grandpa rubs his legs and arms and limps and says “Not quite!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes in the parlor, why, he says he was so strong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When he was just a boy they used to take him right along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lift the heavy things and do the hardest work, you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now us boys ’ll tire him out in just an hour or so!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_PARTED_WAYS" id="THE_PARTED_WAYS"></a>THE PARTED WAYS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> USED to know a little lad,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">A youngster of thirteen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who wasn’t very good or bad,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But somewhere in between.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He had such freckles on his nose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As your nose seems to bear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed, I’d almost think that those<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were some he used to wear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He used to have an old straw hat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All frazzled at the brim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed, I’d almost think that that<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Came down to you from him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he had such a dog as now<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Barks joyfully along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With you—it makes me wonder how<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It could have lived so long.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And in his heart he held such song<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As fell upon my ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And echoed through the shadows long<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When you came whistling near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So when at twilight, dawn or noon<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This overture you bring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seems to be the very tune<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This other lad would sing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And he had pockets bulged with things<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By which he set much store,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With knives and marbles, tops and strings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And half a hundred more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see your pockets emptied now,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your things cast up with care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until they seem to be, somehow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His treasures you have there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know not where it was or when,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But with his heart of song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He went and came not back again,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And took his dreams along;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So some day in a little while<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He’ll wave a sun-browned hand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leave you with his cheery smile—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And you will understand.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_013" id="ill_013"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_176fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_176fp.jpg" width="516" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>THE PARTED WAYS</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_MESSAGE_HOME" id="A_MESSAGE_HOME"></a>A MESSAGE HOME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>AY, Little Boy, ’twixt dawn and dusk who treads such devious ways,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">I wish you would remember me to all your sunny days;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For once they were such friends of mine; so bid them my good cheer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And say you saw an old, old friend, who holds them very dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remember me to those cool paths, that led by fields and streams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where what were my songs now are yours and what were mine your dreams;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just say you saw an old, old friend, who wanted you to tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Them all he sent them love and cheer and wished them always well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And, Little Boy, if you should lie beneath some spreading tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be good enough to say it has remembrance sweet from me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For once it used to cover me with shade so thick and cool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bid me lie and rest and dream as I came home from school;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when you romp with comrade boys at noontime, Lad, I pray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remember me to all of them and to the games they play;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let no games too humble be, no youngsters be too small<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To know an old, old friend sends love and blessings to them all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Remember me to all your dreams, to rose and bush and stem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To days too short to hold your joys, remember me to them;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To all your secrets deep and vast, of things that are and were<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And are to be, half-whispered in the twilight’s dusk and blur;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just say an old friend, long away, but still remembering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would have them know his heart is full of memories that bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Delight to bygone fellowships, and he would have you tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Them all he sends them love and cheer, and wishes them so well!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For, over land and over sea the hearts of us that fare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swell with the messages they bid the homebound comrade bear;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over days and over years have I fared forth and so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I bid you bear my greetings, Lad, to all the joys you know.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remember me to all the hearts and hopes and dreams and deeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bear blessings of mine everywhere the path of boyland leads;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just say you saw an old, old friend, who wanted you to tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The joys and boys of youth he loved and wished them always well.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LULLABY" id="LULLABY"></a>LULLABY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>LEEPY little, creepy little goblins in the gloaming<br /></span> -<span class="ih">With their airy little, fairy little faces all aglow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Winking little, blinking little brownies gone a-roaming<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear their rustling little, bustling little footfalls as they go;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Laughing little, chaffing little voices sweetly singing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the dearest little, queerest little baby lullabies,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Creep, creep, creep!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Time to go to sleep!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Baby playing ’possum with his big, brown eyes!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Cricket in the thicket with the oddest little chatter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sings his prattling little, rattling little, tattling little tune,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fleet the feet of tiny stars go patter, patter, patter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As they scamper from the heavens at the rising of the moon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beaming little, gleaming little fire flies go dreaming<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the dearest little, queerest little baby lullabies,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Creep, creep, creep!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Time to go to sleep!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Baby playing ’possum with his big, brown eyes!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_014" id="ill_014"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_180fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_180fp.jpg" width="500" height="349" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>LULLABY</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Quaking little, shaking little voices all a-quiver<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the mushy little, rushy little, reedy, weedy bogs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Droning little, moaning little chorus by the river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the joking little, croaking little cadence of the frogs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eerie little, cheery little glowworms in the gloaming<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the clover heads like fairy little night caps rise,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Creep, creep, creep!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Time to go to sleep!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Baby playing ’possum with his big, brown eyes!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DISGUISING_TOIL" id="DISGUISING_TOIL"></a>DISGUISING TOIL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN I was just a little boy and sent to cut the weeds,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">I played myself a hero bold and given to mighty deeds;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I played myself an armored knight, my scythe a broadsword keen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weeds an army of my foes come marching o’er the green;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I laid my good broadsword about, they broke and ran pell-mell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At every stroke some stubborn lout and his retainers fell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I told them of my play, with lusty shouts and glee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The neighbor boys brought scythes and fell to cutting weeds for me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I was just a little boy and sent to cut the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I played myself a frontier scout, six feet in buckskin stood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I played the red men swarmed about and all the timbers laid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must be quick hewed and fashioned for an old frontier stockade;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quick fell my axe with flashing blade, for all about I heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The war-whoop of the warriors who in the thicket stirred.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I told them of my play, with lusty strokes and cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The neighbor boys fell to and wrought my woodpile brimming high.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I was just a little boy and sent to scrub the walk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hose and broom, I used to play it was the good ship Hawk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or Hornet, Spider or Whatnot, afire far out at sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor help at hand where’er I looked, to windward or to lee;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And how I fought the tongues of flame that swept by stern and bow!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The clouds of smoke that rolled above—I almost see them now!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I told them of my play, with many a lusty shout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The neighbor boys plied hose and broom to put the fire out.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when I had to shovel snow I led’ some hardy band<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of undismayed discoverers, in far-off Arctic land;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With stores and goods and blubber, too, all buried deep below<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mark that I had left beneath some good six feet of snow;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And almost famished, there I dug, full knowing I should find<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last the goodly stores of stuff that we had left behind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I told them of my play, with many a lusty shout,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The neighbor boys plied willing spades and helped me dig them out.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LITTLE_GIRL_WITH_THE_CURLS" id="LITTLE_GIRL_WITH_THE_CURLS"></a>LITTLE GIRL WITH THE CURLS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">L</span>ITTLE girl with the curls, and the passionless eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">With your heart that is pure as the cool springs that rise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the green of the hills, and with cheeks that are fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And unsoiled of the world as the snowflake in air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your dreams that are sweet and that always come true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little girl with the curls, here’s a blessing for you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little girl with the curls and with grace that is sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the toss of your head to your fast-flying feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the light in your eyes that is brimming with truth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the straightforward gaze that’s the glory of youth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your smiles that are glad and your days that are fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here’s a blessing as rich as the gold of your hair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little girl with the curls and the kisses as light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the butterfly’s kiss of the flower in its flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your heart all atune to the beauties you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the song of your days sweet as music can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your peace like the pardon of heaven unfurls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here’s a blessing for you, little girl with the curls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And Oh, be the days of thy trial as far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the deeps of the sea as the snowy peaks are!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Oh, be thy heart in its singing atune,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy skies be but blue with the splendors of June.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So bless thee and keep thee and spare thee—with pearls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be thy days strung through life, little girl with the curls.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MY_WONDERFUL_DAD" id="MY_WONDERFUL_DAD"></a>MY WONDERFUL DAD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">M</span>Y Daddy, he lived in a wonderful house, and he played with such wonderful boys;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">They were neighbors of his; and the attic they had was a storehouse of wonderful toys;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He slept every night in a wonderful bed, with a tick that his grandmother made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the feathers of geese that she picked all herself, and so soft he was almost afraid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He would sink out of sight when he got into bed; he could look from his window right out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see where the vines used to bring him sweet flowers just by crawling along up the spout;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he could look over and see where the woods and the squirrels and birds used to be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He must have had wonderful times where he lived from the way that he tells them to me!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Daddy, he caught the most wonderful fish—there were thin ones and fat ones and round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some were so long that their tails when he walked would be dragging right down on the ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He scraped off their scales on a log that he had at the woodpile, and said he would know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That log just as well if he saw it today, although that was a long time ago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He used to dig worms of a wonderful size—he has never seen any like those<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since he was grown up; and on Saturdays he wore a wonderful old suit of clothes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hat that an uncle of his had forgot, for on Friday he did all his sums,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Saturday always he went off somewhere with his one or two wonderful chums.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Daddy, he lived in a wonderful place when he was a twelve-year-old lad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For no matter what kind of a day it might be there was always some fun to be had.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He learned how to swim in a wonderful creek, where all of the whole summer long<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The water was warm, and the springboard they had it was springy and slippery and strong.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on the way home they found berries to eat, and he said he remembers them well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it didn’t seem nearly a mile to back home, for there always was something to tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That took up the time both for him and his chums, and sometimes they came home a new way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And always all summer they had it all planned what to do on the next Saturday.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Daddy, he said he could go back there now and could take me as straight as a string<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To all of the wonderful places he knew—where the first flowers came in the spring;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where you almost were sure to catch fish in the brook—where the nuts would come dropping in fall;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the most berries were on the way to back home—he is sure he remembers them all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He knows where the squirrels were most apt to be, and the lane where the hay wagon comes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said he’d find names in the bark of a tree that were cut there by him and his chums<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Twenty-five years ago, and the log where they sat when they found the big garter-snake curled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Daddy, he must have had wonderful times in the splendidest place in the world!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="REMEMBRANCES_BILL" id="REMEMBRANCES_BILL"></a>REMEMBRANCES, BILL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span> WONDER if you still remember them, Bill,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The fresh morning glories that crept up the sill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nodded at us when the night time was gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And curtains thrown open to let in the dawn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light over there, and the edge of the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That blazed on the hill when the day was begun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The air on our cheeks and the sparkle of dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our hearts and our hopes like the day that was new.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if you still remember them, Bill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The way of a thousand delights up the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through lanes and by hedges, where orchards were sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And clover dews healing the woes of bare feet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chatter of squirrels, the rattle of leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The round, yellow pumpkins, the wind-tattered sheaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shade that was deep and lent splendor to dreams<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lips that were laved by the bubbles of streams.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if you still remember them, Bill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The times when the cup of all nature would spill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its gladness for us, when the days overflowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the laughter of playtime, and far down the road<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were milestones all marked by delights jointly shared,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To set off the days where adventure’s steps fared;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ever a secret but innocence knew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heart of youth hallowed and joy bubbled through.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if you still remember them, Bill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The times in the twilight, on hedgerow and hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When we whistled homeward, upon the old road<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hearts full of gladness that quite overflowed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pillows where nestled two tangles of hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The joy-freighted dreams, with a left-over share<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the dawn of the morrow—a thread that was pearled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With jewels of joy that were strung ’round our world.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if you still remember them, Bill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our vows to the future we thought to fulfill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our day dreams to cherish, our faith to endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through trials how bitter our hearts to keep pure;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No gladness of living but we two would share—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lanes and the byways are wondrously fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But somehow the voices grow tuneless and still—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder if you still remember them, Bill.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_BEREAVEMENT" id="THE_BEREAVEMENT"></a>THE BEREAVEMENT</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>E’RE all alone, ’ist Pop an’ me,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">’Cuz Mamma’s gone away somew’eres<br /></span> -<span class="i0">T’ stay the longest time; an’ we<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are all alone; an’ Pop ’ist stares<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-past me an’ he never hears<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Me when I ast w’ere she could be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ both his eyes are full o’ tears<br /></span> -<span class="i2">W’en we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ after w’ile I ast him w’y<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She don’t come back; but he don’t know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en some way he starts t’ cry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till I say, “Please, Pop, don’t cry so.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ put my arms part way around<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His neck an’ hug him, ’ist cuz we<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are lonesome; he don’t make a sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ he ’ist hugs me up so tight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ sez my Mamma’s gone so fur<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She won’t come back, but sez we might<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Ist some day, maybe, go to her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ I ast w’y can’t we go now<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Cuz we’re so lonesome here; but he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t seem to hear me ast, somehow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en I ’ist fergit she’s gone<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ think it’s almos’ time fur her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">T’ come an’ put th’ supper on,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But w’en Pop’s eyes are all a blur<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ’member ’at’s she’s gone away,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ can’t git supper; Pop sez he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ain’t hungry, an’ I ain’t, I say;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ ’en Pop rocks me in his lap<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ rubs my head, ’ist soft an’ kind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ asts me if I’ll take a nap<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If he pulls down th’ parlor blind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ in a little w’ile I fall<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Asleep an’ he ’ist rocks; but he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t never go t’ sleep at all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ we’re alone, ’ist Pop an’ me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="IN_CHILDHOOD_TIME" id="IN_CHILDHOOD_TIME"></a>IN CHILDHOOD TIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>ARK! I hear the happy laughter that from children’s voices rings,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Swelling out like some vast golden harp with half a thousand strings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every one vibrating grandly in an ecstatic acclaim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a medley of sweet melodies that set the birds to shame;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the harp of childhood’s happiness each note rings clear and true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the heart is pure and perfect and each quivering string is new,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it tells and swells like bells afar that ring and rhyme and chime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sweetest music ever told in note or tune or time.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the heart is growing older and the harp of laughter rings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a false note clashing somewhere in the swelling of the strings;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a chord that strikes imperfect, where some sorrow echoes through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The melody, and grief has warped the strings to strains not true.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes there’s brilliant music that rings from an empty heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But it’s not the melodious laughter of the child, that knows no art,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But just flows full and free, for Nature’s teachings, undefiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make music that is heart-true in the sweet voice of a child.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Could I gather every note that floats and rings and swells and tells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gladness of the child’s heart, true as any chime of bells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May tell the passing hour, and fashion them into a song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twould thrill and fill the air with melody as though a throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of seraphim, as tinkling cymbals struck the twinkling stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In heaven’s perfect music, where no din or discord mars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a myriad strings would mingle in a melody sublime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rhyme and chime of laughter gathered from all Childhood’s Time.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DONT" id="DONT"></a>DON’T</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">A</span> HUNDRED times a day I hear<br /></span> -<span class="ih">His mother say: “Don’t do that, dear!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From early morn till dusk ’tis all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” I hear her call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the back porch and front and side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As though some evil would betide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unless she drummed it in his ear:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear! Don’t do that, dear!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If he goes out and slams the door;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” and if the floor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is newly scrubbed and he comes near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” is all I hear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If he comes romping down the stairs;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” and if he wears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No coat, but hangs it somewhere near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sees and says: “Don’t do that, dear!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If he goes shinning up a tree:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” If he should be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Astride a roof I know I’ll hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her call to him: “Don’t do that, dear!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His life is all “Don’t this,” “Don’t that,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t loose the dog,” “Don’t chase the cat,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t go,” “Don’t stay,” “Don’t there,” “Don’t here,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” “Don’t do that, dear!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes he seems to me as still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As any mouse until a shrill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” falls on the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drives him swift away from there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So when he finds another spot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Don’t do that, dear!” and he says: “What?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she replies and cannot say say—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But—“Well, don’t do it, anyway!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="EXTINGUISHED" id="EXTINGUISHED"></a>EXTINGUISHED</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HE boy stood on the burning deck, whence all but him had fled”—<br /></span> -<span class="ih">When Tommy Gibbs stood up to speak he had it in his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when he saw the schoolroom full of visitors, he knew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From his weak knees and parching tongue, the words had all fled, too.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The boy stood on the burning deck”—a second time he tried,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he forgot about the boy, or if he lived or died;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He only knew the burning deck was something nice and cool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside the rostrum where he stood that awful day in school.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The boy stood on the burning deck”—he felt the flames and smoke.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His tongue was thick, his mouth was dry, he felt that he would choke.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And from the far back seats he heard a whisper run about:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Come back here, Tom, and take your seat. They’ve put the fire out!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_UNCHEERED_HERO" id="THE_UNCHEERED_HERO"></a>THE UNCHEERED HERO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>IM Brooks he studies awful hard<br /></span> -<span class="ih">And faithful all the year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But goes out in the school house yard<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And never gets a cheer;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Billy Gibbs, he shirks and frets—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He hates to work at all—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But you should hear the cheer he gets<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because he hits the ball.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tim Brooks he always leads his class<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And gets his lessons done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Billy Gibbs lets hours pass<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just thinking up some fun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But no one cheers and throws his hat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And says: “Hurrah for Tim!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when Bill Gibbs goes up to bat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The boys all cheer for him.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bill Gibbs he suffers awful pain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When he comes to recite;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He cannot do his sums again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or get his grammar right;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then teacher calls on Timmy Brooks<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And points to him with pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when we play a game she looks<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And cheers for Bill outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">{200}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes Tim Brooks he sees the game<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And watches Bill at bat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He gets excited just the same<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And cheers and throws his hat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when he has his sums in school<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Bill is watching him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bill quite forgets the Golden Rule<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And never cheers for Tim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I guess I’d rather be like Tim<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than Billy Gibbs, but when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boys outside are cheering him<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It sounds quite pleasant then;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it must sometimes seem quite hard<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To study all the year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And go out in the school house yard<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But never get a cheer!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">{201}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="OLD_HALLOWEEN_FRIENDS" id="OLD_HALLOWEEN_FRIENDS"></a>OLD HALLOWE’EN FRIENDS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>HO! Mr. Ghost, with your raiment of white,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Come to frighten me out of my wits in the night!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your eyes flaming forth like two coals and your breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing fire that would scare a poor mortal to death;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your rows of great teeth grinning widely at me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And your loose-hanging gown flapping under the tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the orchard out there—Oh! I know how you’re made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the youngsters who made you, so I’m not afraid.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oho! Mr. Ghost, I am waiting for you;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’re an old friend of mine, both trustworthy and true;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For that big head of yours that near gave me a fright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was in somebody’s pumpkin patch only last night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And out of my window not two hours ago<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw your head scooped out by Bill, Jack, and Joe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I saw you stuck up on the end of a lath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before you were stationed right here in my path.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oho! Mr. Ghost, with your garments so fine!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know what became of that sheet on the line<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the neighbor’s back yard, newly washed and alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is hiding that lath that you use for backbone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">{202}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the candle that burned in the kitchen last night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lights those cavernous eyes that near gave me a fright;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed, you are made from such odds and such ends<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I feel we’re the warmest of very old friends.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And those sepulchral groans you are making at me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know whence they come—from that big apple tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is right behind you—I have heard them before;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were begging for cake at the side kitchen door.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So you see, Mr. Ghost, with your pumpkin and lath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your candle and sheet, when I came up the path<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a boy chuckle up there in the tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that is the reason you can’t frighten me!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">{203}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_REFUGE_IN_DISTRESS" id="A_REFUGE_IN_DISTRESS"></a>A REFUGE IN DISTRESS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">A</span> FELLOW’s father he looks wise<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Of office work and such,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when it comes to things like what<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A boy wants, he ain’t much.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For when it comes to cuts or warts<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or stone bruise on your toes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A fellow’s father don’t know, but<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fellow’s mother knows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A fellow’s father he looks wise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And says: “A-hem! A-hem!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when it comes to cakes and pies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What does he know of them?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He knows the price of wheat and rye<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And corn and oats, it’s true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if you get the leg ache, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He don’t know what to do.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And if you burned your back the time<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That you went in to swim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And want some stuff to heal it, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You never go to him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because he doesn’t know a thing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">About such things as those,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But you just bet, and don’t forget,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fellow’s mother knows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">{204}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And if your nose is sunburned, till<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It’s all peeled off, and you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go to him for some healin’ stuff,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He don’t know what to do.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s just as helpless as can be,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But when a fellow goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And asks his mother, why, you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fellow’s mother knows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A fellow’s father knows a lot,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But it ain’t any use,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So if a fellow’s really got<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The leg ache or a bruise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or if there’s anything he wants<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He gets right up and goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And asks his mother, for, you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fellow’s mother knows.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">{205}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_LOST_HEART" id="THE_LOST_HEART"></a>THE LOST HEART</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">B</span>ACK among the trees and trellises, along the leaf-strewn lane,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Sitting on the bank of the mill stream and dreaming dreams again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drinking water sweet as nectar from the bucket at the well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the orchard’s leaf and silence, watching windfalls as they fell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trying here, at five and thirty, just to be a boy again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To recall the joys of boyhood and forget the cares of men;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I listen to a lesson in the twitter of the wren:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the boy’s heart turns to man’s it never throbs the same again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once the sun marks noon of lifetime, once the morning steals away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once the shadows growing shorter and then fall the other way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once the play time ends at manhood, once the frolicking is done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once the face is turned from dawning to the setting of the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You may sit among the flowers that you plucked and threw away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn the leaves of Time all backward, try to read them as you may,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">{206}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">You may kindle fires of Memory, you may sit and watch the flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But there’s something changed within you that can never be the same.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You may lay aside the burden of your troubles as you will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the bent and sunken shoulders tell the story to you still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The story of the troubles and the trials that are sealed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the simple hearts of children, and to men alone revealed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sorrow dulls, the sigh is stilled, the sore hearts soothed are,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The smarting wound is healed again, but always leaves a scar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fire of youth burns only once, and dies in its dead flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The simple heart of boyhood that can never be the same.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So I sit among the trellises and trees and wonder why:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clear the air as in my boyhood and as blue the unflecked sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full the leaves as ever blowing, sweet the bird songs and as free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the boy’s heart that throbbed to them is untuned and dead in me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">{207}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a longing, longing, longing, speaking in a deep-drawn sigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the heart that throbbed in boyhood, cloudless as the azure sky;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the heart that was the sunlight and the air—that tongue nor pen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can ever paint or picture—that I cannot know again.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">{208}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="VERSES_OF_A_LITTLE_CHILD" id="VERSES_OF_A_LITTLE_CHILD"></a>VERSES OF A LITTLE CHILD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">N</span>EVER care as she lies asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Dear little lassie with red-brown hair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Angels of Light a sweet vigil keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Keep for the little one slumbering there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never a dream as she lies so still,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Never a dream but of Fairyland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fairyland and the flowers that fill<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her bed, and the lilies within her hand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Never a tear as she lies at rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now or ever or evermore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never a sorrow to bruise her breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ever the gladness of fairylore.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never the rough way to bruise her feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Never or ever a discord sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only the murmur of music sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the laughing of Cherubim, all around.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Never a sigh from the silent lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the dollies all carefully laid away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only the music of laughter slips<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out of the realm of the sunlit day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never or ever a thought or care,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the little hat with its flowered wreath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing a vision of red-brown hair<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flying in tangled curls beneath.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_015" id="ill_015"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_208fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_208fp.jpg" width="516" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>VERSES OF A LITTLE CHILD</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">{209}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dead? Ah, no! She is just asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Asleep where the dreams and daisies are;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Angels of Light a sweet vigil keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Keep in the light of a twinkling star.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Asleep, and the odors of flowers fill<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her bed, and the lilies within her hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Asleep, and the whispering angels still<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her sighs with the dreams of Fairyland.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">{210}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="GOLDEN_DAYS_IN_SLOWVILLE" id="GOLDEN_DAYS_IN_SLOWVILLE"></a>GOLDEN DAYS IN SLOWVILLE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HESE are golden days in Slowville; there is gladness up and down;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">For they’re sticking circus posters ’round the little country town.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flaming sheets of red and yellow on its every barn and fence<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell of wonders aggregated disregardful of expense.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell of wildernesses threaded for the fierce Bigrigmajig;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell of jungle-beasts made captive and of marvels small and big,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“In a most stupendous spectacle of splendor and renown,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Say the flaming circus posters in the little country town.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They have wielded monster brushes from the dewy hours of morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have covered half of Jones’s barn with grandeur heaven-born;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have pictured fluffy ladies on the backs of dashing steeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have ornamented Slowville with a wealth of daring deeds;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have left a Ripperumptus on the back of Robbin’s fence,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Captured in the wilds of Africa at marvelous expense;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">{211}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ve a retinue of big-eyed lads as they move up and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When they put up circus posters in the little country town.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh! the multicolored marvels done in wonder-rousing haste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a broad red barn for background and no means but brush and paste.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Hi, there, Jimmy! See the monkeys!” All the air is shrill with cries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the likenesses of wild beasts are upreared in gorgeous dyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s the fierce Ornithorinktus and the dreadful Whatisnot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blood-sweating Crinklawoozum and the awful Bingleswat.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tent and sideshow, flag and streamer, elephant, parade, and clown—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! they’re sticking circus posters ’round the little country town.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These are sleepless nights in Slowville; sleepless nights and anxious days;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s a hoarding of stray pennies got in half a hundred ways;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are lads in wonder raptured; open-mouthed, with bulging eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the marvelous menageries from gorgeous posters rise;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">{212}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! there’s glory, glory, glory in the chariots arrayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s rapture in the promise of the splendorous parade;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And new life has come to Slowville and is surging up and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since they put up circus posters in the little country town.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">{213}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_HEART_OF_A_CHILD" id="THE_HEART_OF_A_CHILD"></a>THE HEART OF A CHILD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">G</span>IVE me thy happy heart, Oh little child!<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Where love springs like the sweetest flower, wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From all its virgin soil, and radiantly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Reflects its fresh, unsullied purity.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Give me thy heart, that knows not heat or hate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor passion thrills, nor grief makes desolate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When love, lone, reigned, and Life but smiled and smiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give me thy spotless heart, Oh little child!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Give me thine artless tongue that to deceive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knows not; but lisps to laugh and wakes to weave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In whispered words diviner melody<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of love than speaks in grandest symphony.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Give me thine eyes that see but happiness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor aught of else in all the hours that bless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy childhood time, nor any graver ray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than the glad sunshine of an endless day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Would we could cleanse our hearts and make them young,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As when were sweeter chimes of childhood rung<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From them, and when were flowers springing wild<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the untrampled soil, Oh little child!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">{214}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_STRENUOUS_LIFE" id="THE_STRENUOUS_LIFE"></a>THE STRENUOUS LIFE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>HAT is your father, dear<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Just going out the door;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, he’s been living here<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For seven years or more!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In business he’s so deep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He has no time to fret<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With little girls, but keep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up hope—we’ll meet him yet!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That is your mother, dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just getting in the car,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She knows that you are here<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And also who you are!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what with clubs to meet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bridge to play, you see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hours so short and fleet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She’s turned you o’er to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But there, my dear, don’t fret,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or let those blue eyes blur,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some time I know you’ll get<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Acquainted, too, with her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why, sometimes, in the night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When angels vigil keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She asks if you’re all right<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And when you went to sleep!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">{215}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I think you’d like them both,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I think they’d both like you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what with “higher growth”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And many things to do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’re simply rushed to death,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But there, my dear, don’t cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If they should stop for breath<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We’ll meet them bye and bye.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">{216}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_SONG_OF_MOTHERHOOD" id="A_SONG_OF_MOTHERHOOD"></a>A SONG OF MOTHERHOOD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>EW, sew, sew! For there’s many a rent to mend;<br /></span> -<span class="ih">There’s a stitch to take and a dress to make,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For where do her labors end?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sew, sew, sew! For a rent in a dress she spies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then it’s needle and thread and an aching head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see how the needle flies!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brush, brush, brush! For there’s many a boy to clean,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And start to school with a slate and rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a breakfast to get between.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comb, comb, comb! In the minute she has to spare,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For what is so wild—unreconciled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the wastes of a youngster’s hair?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sweep, sweep, sweep! Oh, follow the flashing broom,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And with towel bound her forehead round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She goes from room to room.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dust, dust, dust! As down on her knees she kneels,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For there’s much to do in the hour or two<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of interval ’twixt meals.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bake, bake, bake! For the cookie jar piled high<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But yesterday in some curious way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is empty again, Oh my!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">{217}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stir, stir, stir, in the froth of yellow and white,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For well she knows how the story goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a small boy’s appetite.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Scrub, scrub, scrub! For the floor that was spick and span,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Alas, alack! has a muddy track<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where some thoughtless youngster ran.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Splash, splash, splash! For the dishes of thrice a day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are piled up high to wash and dry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And put on the shelves away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Patch, patch, patch! And oh for a pantaloon<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That would not tear or rip or wear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the course of an afternoon!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Patch, patch, patch! And see how the needle flies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For a mother knows how the fabric goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the seat of trouble lies.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Toil, toil, toil! For when do her labors end,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a dress to make and a cake to bake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dresses and hose to mend?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stew, stew, stew! Fret and worry and fuss,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And who of us knows of the frets and woes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the days when she mothered us?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">{218}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="YOUTH" id="YOUTH"></a>YOUTH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">D</span>ON’T you recall when apples grew,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Oh, twice as big as now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When fish, however they were few,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were monster ones somehow?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Gaines’s mill-dam made a roar<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As though the water hurled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were gathered in a mighty store<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From all the wide, wide world?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Don’t you remember when the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The oak trees and the beech,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were lost in clouds on days like these<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And eyes could hardly reach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their waving tops? When noonday skies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were oh, such deeper blue?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Jack’s great bean stalk in our eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just grew and grew and grew?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there were bells, so more than fine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of blue and white and red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the morning glory vine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That climbed up on the shed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be a wonder and delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So fresh and full of dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bud and open in a night night—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I see them now—don’t you?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">{219}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Don’t you remember when the caves<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were thick and full of gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where captive maidens, once, like slaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were chained in some damp room?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When twilight rustling in the brush<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was some fierce beast? A cow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was, but cows at dusk are—Hush!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I think I hear one now.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, take a little trip with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Forget the things that fret,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you may close your eyes and see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some things that I forget.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why, I’ve seen Bluebeard’s hidden room<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Cinderella’s shoe!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I have seen where violets bloom bloom—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So blue! So blue! So blue!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">{220}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="AFTER_THE_YEARS" id="AFTER_THE_YEARS"></a>AFTER THE YEARS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN you went back to the old home place had the mountain become a hill?<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Had the raging river your boyhood knew shrunk down to a peaceful rill?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were the monster trees in the old front yard but half of their former size?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was something gone—and you don’t know what what—from the blue of the arching skies?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was the swimming-hole but a muddy pool when once it was crystal clear?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were the apples but half as big and red as they were in that other year?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When you went back to the old home place did the red barn seem so small<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It didn’t look like the one you’d known? Was the mighty waterfall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That used to roar in your boyish ears but a little dash of spray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That fell so light you could hardly hear a dozen feet away?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were the corn rows only half as long as they were in the long ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When you measured them with aching arms and the weight of a heavy hoe?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">{221}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When you went back to the old home place had the mill pond dwindled down?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was Main Street only a muddy track in the heart of a sleepy town?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the well that was fathoms, fathoms deep, with its wheel and creaking chain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did it seem to you like a shrunken thing when you looked at it again?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was something gone of the bygone days, from the sod and the arch of sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That we used to see when we played as boys in the old days—you and I?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nay, Heart, the mountain rises high as it did of yore; the rill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was a river once and the boys near by see a raging river still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The well is fathoms, fathoms deep and the apples ripe and red;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sod is cool and green and soft, and the sky up overhead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is blue and clear, and the days are rare and glad as they used to be—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But where is the Heart of the olden time—hast thou brought it back with thee?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">{222}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_VERSE_TO_MEMORY" id="A_VERSE_TO_MEMORY"></a>A VERSE TO MEMORY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">N</span>OW Memory, like a little child,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Takes me by one soft hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By dreams of keen delight beguiled<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We stray through Flowerland;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like the child, sweet Memory<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By many a by-way strays,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Plucks flowers and bears them back to me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To fashion my bouquets.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By many sweet, secluded ways<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She wanders, far or near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A rose upon my garland lays<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bejeweled with a tear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rose of some far-flown ideal,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A fragrance, ah, how rare!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My fingers close but to reveal<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The ashes crumbling there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now tinkling laughter ripples clear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As some new flower she spies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some far-forgotten joys appear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As fairy faces rise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My thoughts in revel, flower-wreathed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Heart-full, my garlands lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While on the scented air is breathed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A greeting and good-bye.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">{223}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, Child, away! The frolic ends,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The flower in ashes, dead;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The perfume with the air that blends<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We’ll bear away instead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here at the hedge we kiss and part,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some sterner duties find.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bear all the sweetness in the heart<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But leave the flowers behind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thank God, thank God for Memory,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Half smile and half a tear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flowers are there eternally,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And when the days are drear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In through the tangled hedge of days<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We wander, hand in hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I may dream, while Memory strays,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A child is Flowerland.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">{224}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LEST_I_FORGET" id="LEST_I_FORGET"></a>LEST I FORGET</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN from my earliest abode in boyhood’s merry days I strode,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Oh, well do I remember how my mother came—I see her now—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, standing in the old front door, repeated to me o’er and o’er:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh, William, don’t do this and that, and William, wear your other hat.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Please, William, don’t forget my note, and William, wear your overcoat.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And William, hurry on your way, or you’ll be late to school today.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And far and long as I could hear her admonitions to my ear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came floating on, repeated yet, lest I forget, lest I forget.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When from my lessons, shirked or done, came homeward I at waning sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, well do I remember how my mother came—I see her now—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And greeted me at that front door with admonitions o’er and o’er:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh, William, don’t do this and that, and wipe your feet upon the mat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">{225}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And do not slam the door and wake the baby, William, and please take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This package down to Howe and Hatch and tell them that it doesn’t match,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And don’t forget to hurry back, because the kitchen fire is slack”;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And far and long as I could hear her admonitions to my ear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come floating on, repeated yet, lest I forget, lest I forget.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’m married now—at man’s estate, and yet, quite mournful to relate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My wife it is who, as before, comes with me to the new front door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And standing there, bombards me for a block or two, and o’er and o’er:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh, William, don’t you wet your feet, and William, don’t forget the meat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And William, don’t forget to mail my letter promptly, and don’t fail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To pay the ice bill, order wood; and William, would you be so good<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As to stop in at Jones’s store and get a bit of ribbon for<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The baby’s hair?”—and so ’tis yet—lest I forget—lest I forget!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">{226}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ECHO_OF_A_SONG" id="ECHO_OF_A_SONG"></a>ECHO OF A SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">T</span>O my fancy, idly roaming, comes a picture of the gloaming,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Comes a fragrance from the blossoms of the lilac and the rose;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the yellow lamplight streaming I am sitting here and dreaming<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of a half-forgotten twilight whence a mellow memory flows;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To my listening ears come winging vagrant notes of woman’s singing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’ve a sense of sweet contentment as the sounds are borne along;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis a mother who is tuning her fond heart to love and crooning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To her laddie such a<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Sleepy little,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Creepy little,<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, how well do I remember when by crackling spark and ember<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The old-fashioned oaken rocker moved with rhythmic sweep and slow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With her feet upon the fender, in a cadence low and tender,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Floated forth that slumber anthem of a childhood long ago.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">{227}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">There were goblins in the gloaming and the half-closed eyes went roaming<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through the twilight for the ghostly shapes of bugaboos along;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the sandman’s slyly creeping and a tired lad half sleeping<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When she sings to him that<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Sleepy little,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Creepy little,<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am sitting here and dreaming with the mellow lamplight streaming<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through the vine-embowered window in a yellow filigree;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the fragrant air come winging vagrant notes of woman’s singing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis the slumber song of childhood that is murmuring to me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some subtle fancy creeping lulls my senses half to sleeping<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the misty shapes of bugaboos go dreamily along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All my sorrows disappearing, as a tired lad I’m hearing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Once again my mother’s<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Sleepy little,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Creepy little,<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Song.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">{228}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LOVERS_LANE" id="LOVERS_LANE"></a>LOVERS’ LANE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>OW good to remember Life’s June from September,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">The days that were fairer than ever again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When hearts held no sorrow to last o’er the morrow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And heads were brimful of the wisdom of ten;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No skies were e’er bluer, no heart was e’er truer<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than mine when I waited in sunshine or rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With joy that enriched me for one who bewitched me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And bade me to wait till she came down the lane.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our trysting-place gaining, my eyes they were straining<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Afar down the road, and my lips hummed a tune<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That held all the sweetness of first love’s completeness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The whiles that I waited at morning and noon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For last when we parted, beloved, fond hearted,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She pledged me to wait for her, sunshine or rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so I kept humming, I knew she was coming,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A girl queen in gingham, somewhere down the lane.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there with a vision of futures Elysian<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I traced both our names with my toe in the dust,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not a temptation could alter my station<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As knight of the faithful heart, true to its trust.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><p><a name="ill_016" id="ill_016"></a></p> -<a href="images/i_228fp.jpg"> -<img src="images/i_228fp.jpg" width="505" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<div class="caption"><p>LOVER’S LANE</p></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">{229}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">W</span>ITH ecstasy thrilling, I heard a far trilling<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So sweeter than bird song, and heard it again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heart of the maiden, care-free and joy-laden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was borne on the music I heard down the lane.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, who knows the story of Life and its glory,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The unending bliss of the days that were then;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And who knows the sweetness of first love’s completeness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who has not the wisdom of thirteen and ten?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For back went a trilling to her that was spilling<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its burden of gladness through all of the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With infinite yearning her message returning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To show I was true and awaited her there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, hearts that are older, what secrets I told her!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What dreams of the future, of grown girl and boy!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For what of the weather, when two walk together<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The pathway to school in the heyday of joy?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When hours are but measures of innocent pleasures,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When days brim with gladness, as winecups to drain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Life learns the sweetness of first love’s completeness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In waiting for Her as she comes down the lane!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">{230}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DADDY_KNOWS" id="DADDY_KNOWS"></a>DADDY KNOWS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">L</span>ET us dry our tears now, laddie,<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Let us put aside our woes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us go and talk to daddy,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For I’m sure that daddy knows.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us take him what we’ve broken,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Be it heart or hope or toy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the tale may bide unspoken,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For he used to be a boy.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He has been through all the sorrows<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of a lad at nine or ten;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has seen the dawn of morrows<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the sun shone bright again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His own heart has been near breaking,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh, more times than I can tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And has often known the aching<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That a boy’s heart knows so well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am sure he well remembers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In his calendar of days,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the boy-heart was December’s,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Though the sun and flowers were May’s.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has lived a boy’s life, laddie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he knows just how it goes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us go and talk to daddy,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For I’m sure that daddy knows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">{231}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Let us tell him all about it,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How the sting of it is there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I have not any doubt it<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will be easier to bear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he’s trodden every byway,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He has fathomed every joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has traveled every highway<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the wide world of a boy.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He will put aside the worries<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That his day may follow through,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the great heart of him hurries<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At the call for help from you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He will help us mend the broken<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Heart of ours or hope or toy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the tale may bide unspoken—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For he used to be a boy.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">{232}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="TO_CHILDREN_AT_THE_HEARTH" id="TO_CHILDREN_AT_THE_HEARTH"></a>TO CHILDREN AT THE HEARTH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">I</span>T is you, my dears, and the gladness<br /></span> -<span class="ih">You bring to the tasks to do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who can lessen this old world’s sadness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By as much as the joy of you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is you, my dears, and your glory<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of sunshine and word and song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who can make life a sweeter story<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wherever you smile along.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is you, my dears, with your beauty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And freshness of mind and heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who must offer your share of duty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And play yet a nobler part.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the world, it has need of beauty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And youth that is fine and new,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the call you may hear to duty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is for you, my dears—just you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is you, my dears, that the sages<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have written their counsels to,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is you, my dears, that the ages<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leave legacies to—just you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And remember that every letter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That Wisdom has graven through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The years, so the world be better,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is for you, my dears—just you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">{233}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is you who must be the bravest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To fight, if the cause be true;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is you who must be the gravest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In word and in deed—just you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is you who must be the strongest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To stand till the battle’s through,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you who must smile the longest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And never despair—just you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is you, my dears, and your glory<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of gladness and youth and smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who shall help to say if the story<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of life and the world’s worth while.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the years of all time have shaped us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the lore of the Ages, too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to say if the Truth’s escaped us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is for you, my dears—just you.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">{234}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_TOAST_TO_THE_SMALL_BOY" id="A_TOAST_TO_THE_SMALL_BOY"></a>A TOAST TO THE SMALL BOY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">H</span>E knows the vagrant country roads<br /></span> -<span class="ih">Where sleepily they wind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has his pockets full of toads,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His smile is broad and kind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His dreams of lands and seas—who knows?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His joys are never still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whistling through the world he goes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The rugged small boy—Bill!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His world is full of song and shine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His days are all his own;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His nights are full of plans so fine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That youngsters all have known;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all the joy that health can give<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His ruddy pulses thrill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, bless me, how he loves to live,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This rugged small boy—Bill!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His trousers know the ample patch,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His shoes gape at the toes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But see him gladly toe the scratch<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For any chum he knows;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heart of him is good as gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And songs of gladness spill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From his red lips, this sunny-souled<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And rugged small boy—Bill!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">{235}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His scratch-scarred legs are never tired,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His eyes bright-souled and starred,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His heart with hopeful youth is fired,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His sunny soul unscarred;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The world is his, the fields, the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The brook, the wood, the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To do his will, as he may please,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This rugged small boy—Bill!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He knows the song of life by heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In fancy he may weave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such dreams as make the pulses start,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A King of Make-Believe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I speak with him I hear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Truth ripple like a rill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From him, and gladness and good cheer,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This rugged small boy—Bill!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, bide thee, bide thee, overlong,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Health, happiness, and youth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be glad thy heart and light thy song<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And pure and clear thy truth!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor cloud to dim thy sunny ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor aught to bring thee ill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And year on year of perfect days,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My rugged small boy—Bill!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236">{236}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="AN_ADVENTUROUS_DAY" id="AN_ADVENTUROUS_DAY"></a>AN ADVENTUROUS DAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">O</span>NE time in vacation we boys all left town<br /></span> -<span class="ih">To stay in the country for Sunday; and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By Deacon Gray’s pasture a rabbit came out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right close to the highway and looked all about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until it saw us and it started to run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right down the highroad like a shot from a gun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So Billy Beggs threw off his coat and his hat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And chased it till both of its ears were down flat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, my, it just ran as if it saw a ghost,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Bill ran so fast that he caught it—almost!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And under the bridge where it crosses the creek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We saw some fish swimming and darting as quick<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As a flash in the water, and one fish would flop<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Himself till he almost would come to the top;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So then we got down on the bridge and we tied<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pin on a string and dropped it down the side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a bug on the pin, and the fishes would look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While Billy Beggs wiggled the bug on the hook;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one fish was hungry and came up so close<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Bill gave a jerk and he caught it—almost!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And over by Skinner’s a big hawk flew by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lit on a stump that was not very high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But didn’t see us and we crawled up quite slow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the grass to the stump with a big stone to throw;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237">{237}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Billy Beggs said that the hawk was asleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For it never stirred once; and the grass was so deep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That we got to within a few feet from the stump,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Billy Beggs peeked, and his heart gave a thump;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he got ever and ever so close<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He stood up and threw and he hit it—almost!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then it got cloudy and thundered and then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It lightened just awful and thundered again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It rained some big drops and we started to run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To get in the barn till the shower was done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lightning just spattered and crackled and flashed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we were all scared as could be, and we splashed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All through mud and water, and then a big crack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of lightning came down and Bill Beggs hollered back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From ’way up ahead, just as pale as a ghost,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said that last lightning had struck him—almost!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And over by Griggs’s somebody came out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hollered to us when we’re all just about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So tired we could drop, and they took us right in<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the big kitchen fire ’cause we’re wet to the skin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Mrs. Griggs gave us some blankets to wear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While all of our clothes were hung over a chair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she made some tea till she got us warmed through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then the storm stopped and the sky got all blue;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Billy Beggs told her the flash came so close<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That he ’membered the whole of the Lord’s Prayer—almost!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238">{238}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="POEM_OF_THE_FORAGERS" id="POEM_OF_THE_FORAGERS"></a>POEM OF THE FORAGERS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="ig"><span class="letra">S</span>CHOOL’S out, and homeward with the ebbing day<br /></span> -<span class="ih">They come—Tom Jones, Jim Brooks and Eddie Gray;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And half a million others far or near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not much unlike the boys I know right here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With empty dinnerpails and schoolbooks slung<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across their shoulders by a strap. The tongue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of boyhood at the kitchen door gives cry:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ma, can’t I have a doughnut, or some pie?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For, say, the appetite of boys is prime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cannot be content till suppertime.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis four o’clock, and I can hear them go—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A million youngsters—homeward, fast and slow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The drowsy schoolroom clock has dragged its hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across its face until Time’s signal stands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At long-awaited four—that blessed hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When schoolbooks close and teachers lose the power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That despot rulers have—and flags unfurled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lead schoolboy armies to a waiting world!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up the back steps bound returning feet:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ma, can’t I go and get a bite to eat?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">School’s out—what ransacking of cooky jars!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What letting down of pantry gates and bars!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239">{239}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">What dipping into barrels here and there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With heads far down and feet high up in air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Winesaps, Baldwins, Pippins! What a charge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the jars of jam and loaves baked large<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round and brown—what a tumultuous cry:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ma, can’t I have a little piece of pie?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so this schoolboy army waxes fat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon its foraged commissariat!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">{240}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="blk"> -<p class="nind"><span class="letra">T</span>HANKS are due to the Editors of The Saturday Evening Post, The Century -Magazine, The New York Times, and The Youth’s Companion, in which papers -the greater number of these verses originally appeared, for permission to reprint.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Boys and Girls, by James W. Foley - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOYS AND GIRLS *** - -***** This file should be named 63514-h.htm or 63514-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/1/63514/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Sharon Joiner, Chuck Greif -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/colophon.png b/old/63514-h/images/colophon.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index df95e52..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/colophon.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 64b85c8..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_010fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_010fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 306ef02..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_010fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_014fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_014fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 60def04..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_014fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_032fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_032fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 336289b..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_032fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_042fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_042fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7e51316..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_042fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_052fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_052fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4bd79e1..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_052fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_084fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_084fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index da1cb85..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_084fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_088fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_088fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5f16d42..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_088fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_094fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_094fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4eead17..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_094fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_104fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_104fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a8308d5..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_104fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_136fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_136fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b9927d7..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_136fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_162fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_162fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index edcdcfb..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_162fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_176fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_176fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5ed3dd8..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_176fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_180fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_180fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4d7f864..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_180fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_208fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_208fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 964242f..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_208fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_228fp.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_228fp.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3e29b7c..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_228fp.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63514-h/images/i_frontis.jpg b/old/63514-h/images/i_frontis.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6dc134e..0000000 --- a/old/63514-h/images/i_frontis.jpg +++ /dev/null |
