Part 7 (1/2)
Bein' I'm a boy, I duck my head an' hold my breath; An' I am, oh! so sorry I'm a naughty boy, an' then I promise to be better an' I say my prayers again!
Gran'ma tells me that's the only way to make it right When a feller has been wicked an' sees things at night!
An' so, when other naughty boys would coax me into sin, I try to skwush the Tempter's voice 'at urges me within; An' when they's pie for supper, or cakes 'at 's big an' nice, I want to--but I do not pa.s.s my plate f'r them things twice!
No, ruther let Starvation wipe me slowly out o' sight Than I should keep a-livin' on an' seein' things at night!
THE CUNNIN' LITTLE THING
When baby wakes of mornings, Then it's wake, ye people all!
For another day Of song and play Has come at our darling's call!
And, till she gets her dinner, She makes the welkin ring, And she won't keep still till she's had her fill-- The cunnin' little thing!
When baby goes a-walking, Oh, how her paddies fly!
For that's the way The babies say To other folk ”by-by”; The trees bend down to kiss her, And the birds in rapture sing, As there she stands and waves her hands-- The cunnin' little thing!
When baby goes a-rocking In her bed at close of day, At hide-and-seek On her dainty cheek The dreams and the dimples play; Then it's sleep in the tender kisses The guardian angels bring From the Far Above to my sweetest love-- You cunnin' little thing!
THE DOLL'S WOOING
The little French doll was a dear little doll Tricked out in the sweetest of dresses; Her eyes were of hue A most delicate blue And dark as the night were her tresses; Her dear little mouth was fluted and red, And this little French doll was so very well bred That whenever accosted her little mouth said ”Mamma! mamma!”
The stockinet doll, with one arm and one leg, Had once been a handsome young fellow; But now he appeared Rather frowzy and bleared In his torn regimentals of yellow; Yet his heart gave a curious thump as he lay In the little toy cart near the window one day And heard the sweet voice of that French dolly say: ”Mamma! mamma!”
He listened so long and he listened so hard That anon he grew ever so tender, For it's everywhere known That the feminine tone Gets away with all masculine gender!
He up and he wooed her with soldierly zest But all she'd reply to the love he professed Were these plaintive words (which perhaps you have guessed): ”Mamma! mamma!”
Her mother--a sweet little lady of five-- Vouchsafed her parental protection, And although stockinet Wasn't blue-blooded, yet She really could make no objection!
So soldier and dolly were wedded one day, And a moment ago, as I journeyed that way, I'm sure that I heard a wee baby voice say: ”Mamma! mamma!”
INSCRIPTION FOR MY LITTLE SON'S SILVER PLATE
When thou dost eat from off this plate, I charge thee be thou temperate; Unto thine elders at the board Do thou sweet reverence accord; And, though to dignity inclined, Unto the serving-folk be kind; Be ever mindful of the poor, Nor turn them hungry from the door; And unto G.o.d, for health and food And all that in thy life is good, Give thou thy heart in grat.i.tude.
FISHERMAN JIM'S KIDS
Fisherman Jim lived on the hill With his bonnie wife an' his little boys; 'T wuz ”Blow, ye winds, as blow ye will-- Naught we reck of your cold and noise!”
For happy and warm were he an' his, And he dandled his kids upon his knee To the song of the sea.
Fisherman Jim would sail all day, But, when come night, upon the sands His little kids ran from their play, Callin' to him an' wavin' their hands; Though the wind was fresh and the sea was high, He'd hear'em--you bet--above the roar Of the waves on the sh.o.r.e!
Once Fisherman Jim sailed into the bay As the sun went down in a cloudy sky, And never a kid saw he at play, And he listened in vain for the welcoming cry.