Pockets

POCKETS

(By Susan Adger Williams in Good Housekeeping)

A child should have a pocket —
Supposing on the road
He runs across a beetle,
Or a lizard, or a toad?
However will he carry them?
Whatever will he do
If he hasn’t got a pocket
To put them into?

A child should have a pocket
On which he fairly dotes!
Not one or two, but many
In his little waistcoats —
And one will be for money
He finds on the roads,
And one for cakes and cookies —
And one for hoptoads!

Fitchburg Sentinel (FItchburg, Massachusetts) Aug 20, 1932

Not “Only a Boy,” but “The Coming Man”

ONLY A BOY.

Only a boy, with his noise and fun,
The veriest mystery under the sun;
As brimful of mischief and wit and glee
As ever a human frame can be,
And as hard to manage as — ah! ah me!
‘Tis hard to tell,
Yet we love him well.

Only a boy, with his fearful tread,
Who cannot be driven, but must be led;
Who troubles the neighbors’ dogs and cats,
And tears more clothes and spoils more hats,
Loses more tops and kites and bats
Than would stock a store
For a year or more.

Only a boy, with his wild, strong ways,
With his idle hours on busy days;
With his queer remarks and his odd replies,
Sometimes foolish and sometimes wise,
Often brilliant for one of his size,
As a meteor hurl’d
From the pleasant world.

Only a boy, who will be a man
If Nature goes on with her first great plan,
If water, or fire, or some fatal snare
Conspires not to rob us of this our heir,
Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care,
Our torment, our joy,
“Only a boy.”

Decatur Daily Republican (Decatur, Illinois) Nov 5, 1877

THE COMING MAN.

A pair of very chubby legs,
Encased in scarlet hose;
A pair of little stubby boots,
With rather doubtful toes;
A little kilt, a little coat,
Cut as a mother can —
And lo! before us strides in state,
The Future’s “coming man.”

His eyes, perchance, will read the stars,
And search their unknown ways;
Perchance the human heart and soul
Will open to their gaze;
Perchance their keen and dashing glance
Will be a nation’s light —
Those eyes that now are wistful bent
On some “big fellow’s” kite.

That brow where mighty thoughts will dwell
In solemn secret state;
Where fierce Ambition’s restless strength
Shall war with future fate;
Where Science from now hidden caves
New treasures shall outpour —
‘Tis knit now, with a troubled doubt,
Are two, or three, cents more?

Those lips that, in the coming years,
Will plead, or pray, or teach,
Whose whispered words on lightning flash,
From world to world may reach;
That sternly grave may speak command,
Or, smiling, win control —
Are coaxing now for gingerbread
With all a baby’s soul!

Those hands — those little busy hands —
So sticky, small and brown;
Those hands, whose only mission seems
To tear all order down —
Who knows what hidden strength may lie
Within their future grasp,
Though now ’tis but a taffy-stick
In sturdy hold they clasp?

Ah, blessings on those little hands,
Whose work is yet undone,
And blessing on those little feet,
Whose race is yet unrun!
And blessings on the little brain
That has not learned to plan!
Whate’er the Future hold in store,
God bless the “coming man!”

Decatur Daily Republican (Decatur, Illinois) Nov 8, 1877

Boys to Men

Image from NCSU Libraries

TO CRITICS

When I was seventeen I heard
From each censorious tongue,
“I’d not do that if I were you;
You see you’re rather young.”

Now that I number forty years,
I’m quite as often told
Of this or that I shouldn’t do
Because I’m quite too old.

O carping world! If there’s an age
Where youth and manhood keep
An equal poise, alas! I must
Have passed it in my sleep.

— Walter Learned.

The Oshkosh Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Sep 25, 1935