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.
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.
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.
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’!
’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’!
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’!
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’!
’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’!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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!
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.
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.
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.
’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.
“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.
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!”
“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!
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
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
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.
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.
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.”
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.”
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.”
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!
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!
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!
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!”
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!
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!
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.
’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!
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.
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!
’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!
’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.
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.
’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.
’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.
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.
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.
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!
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’ 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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’ 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.
’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.
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.
’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!
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!
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.
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’ 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!”
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!”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.