Part 4

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?

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!

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.

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

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!