Boys and Girls The Verses of James W. Foley

Part 1

Chapter 13,146 wordsPublic domain

THE VERSES OF JAMES W. FOLEY

BOYS AND GIRLS

THE VERSES OF JAMES W. FOLEY

NEW YORK E·P·DUTTON & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

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!

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

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!