PS 
 
 3157 
 WE 9 Yteter house 
 
 - tti 
 
 Southern Branch 
 of the 
 
 University of California 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 Form L-l 
 PS 
 
 3157
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 MAR 1 8 1924 
 AUG4 192* 
 
 Form L-9-2?n-7,'22
 
 LAYS for LITTLE CHAPS
 
 "THE LITTLE CHAP THAT RUNS THE HOUSE"
 
 Lays for 
 Little Chaps 
 
 BY 
 
 ALFRED JAMES WATERHOUSE 
 
 NEW TORK NEW AMSTERDAM 
 BOOK COMPANY PUBLISHERS MCMII
 
 Copyright, igo2, by 
 
 NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK COMPANY 
 
 in the United States and Great Britain 
 
 Published November, 1902 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS JOHN WILSON 
 AND SON CAMBRIDGE U. S. A.
 
 To Ruth and Dorothy
 
 
 OF THE LAYS 
 
 PACK 
 
 The Little Chap that Runs the House ... 1 
 
 Charlie Jones' Bad Luck 3 
 
 A Passenger from Phantom Land 5 
 
 Our Hushaby Song 8 
 
 The Baby in Pants 10 
 
 The Land of Three Feet High 12 
 
 Little Willie's Christmas Wish 14 
 
 Wen I am Growed Up 17 
 
 Saint Santa Claus 19 
 
 The Remarkable Tale of Miss Kitty Cat . . 21 
 
 When the Baby Came 26 
 
 The Baby's Remarks 29 
 
 A Hard, Hard Citizen 31 
 
 The Land of the Hushaby King 33 
 
 A Very Queer Umbrella 37 
 
 vii
 
 A LIST OF THE LAYS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Fellow Came to our House 39 
 
 How the Babies Kide 42 
 
 O'er the Sea of Dreams 44 
 
 The Schoolgirl that I Hated ... . N . . . 47 
 
 My Orful Cross-Eyed Teacher 50 
 
 "I Love You Each Year Better" 54 
 
 How the Flowers Grow . . 56 
 
 My Youthful Pants 58 
 
 The People of Wonder Land . 60 
 
 But Two Children 63 
 
 My Pa an' Ma 65 
 
 The Mournful Tale of the Snee Zee Familee . 69 
 
 "I'm Praying for You" 72 
 
 The Loving Mother 75 
 
 The Despot Kings 80 
 
 I "Wish I was an Engineer 83 
 
 It 's Hard to Say 87 
 
 A Little, Little Fellow 90 
 
 The Baby's Faith 93 
 
 When Brother Stiggins Come to Tea . . . 95 
 
 Her Faith Never Falters 99 
 
 viii
 
 A LIST OF THE LAYS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 When Mother Called 101 
 
 The Song of Songs 103 
 
 A Song for the Babies . 107 
 
 The Little Boy Who Saw Santa Claus . . . 110 
 
 She 's Gone Away 114 
 
 Oh, Little Wee Maiden . 116 
 
 The Poor Little Birdies 119 
 
 Give Me the Fables 122 
 
 A Song for the Little Chaps 125 
 
 When Even Conies 127 
 
 At the Bottom of the Sea 129 
 
 Dorothy's Wisdom 132 
 
 The Teacher Knows 135 
 
 Swimming isn't What it Was 138 
 
 My First Autograph 141 
 
 My Little Valentine 143 
 
 Hushaby, Lullaby 145 
 
 When Baby Bloweth Kisses 147
 
 THE little chap that runs the house, 
 He is a sight to see ; 
 His face is as a saucer round ; 
 He reacheth to my knee. 
 But when he shouts at me, " Hey, there ! " 
 I know ! t were wisdom to beware. 
 
 The little chap that runs the house 
 
 Hath noises many score, 
 And when I think I 've learned them all 
 
 He springeth several more. 
 Yells, whoops and shrieks to Bedlam run 
 He sayeth only : " My ! What fun ! " 
 
 Sometimes when I awhile would write 
 In some secluded spot 
 1 1 

 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 A-sudden Panic's frenzied might 
 
 Doth mingle in my plot : 
 With blare of trumpet, beat of drum, 
 " Say, ain't you glad 'cause I have come ? ' 
 
 The little chap that runs the house 
 
 Doth never pause to dream 
 That " business " is a sacred word 
 
 In man's sagacious scheme. 
 " Up on your shoulder ! Take me ! 
 
 Do!" 
 
 We march to shriek and mad halloo. 
 
 The little chap that runs the house 
 When daylight all hath fled 
 
 Doth rub his sleepy eyes, and say : 
 " I fink I '11 go to bed." 
 
 Then by his mother kneeleth he, 
 
 And angels heed his baby plea. 
 
 The little chap 
 His noise is 
 
 For shriek and 
 
 halloo 
 Are tuned to 
 
 And so I say : 
 
 joy, 
 
 And heed his 
 boy." 
 
 that runs the house, 
 dear to me, 
 shout and loud 
 
 Heaven's key ; 
 " God give him 
 
 way, my little
 
 Charlie Jones' Bad Luck 
 
 CHARLIE JONES' 
 BAD LUCK 
 
 As discussed by 
 little Willie 
 
 I DON'T care if Charlie Jones 
 Is better 'an I be ; 
 An' I don't care if teacher says 
 He 's smart 'long side er me ; 
 An' I don't care, w'en vis'tors come, 
 
 If she on him does call ; 
 He ain't got measles, like I have 
 He don't have luck at all. 
 
 He never had the whoopin' cough, 
 
 Ner mos' cut off his thumb, 
 Ner ever fell an' broke his leg 
 
 An' had a doctor come. 
 He hardly ever stubs his toe, 
 
 An' if he does, he '11 bawl ! 
 There 's nuthin' special comes to him 
 
 He don't have luck at all. 
 3
 
 Lay s fo r L it tie Ch ap s 
 
 An' I don't care if lie can say 
 
 More tex's an' things 'an I ; 
 He never burnt both hands to once 
 
 'Long 'bout the Fo'th July. 
 He never had the chicken pox, 
 
 Ner p'iseu oak las' Fall ! 
 He can't be proud o' nuthin' much - 
 
 He don't have luck at all.
 
 A Passenger from Phantom Land 
 
 A PASSENGER FROM PHANTOM 
 LAND 
 
 A PASSENGER came from Phantom 
 Land ; 
 Ho and olio ! but a sight was lie ! 
 With a voice that was merely a loud demand 
 
 For something to eat or to drink maybe. 
 A passenger came from Phantom Land ; 
 
 A queerer and quainter you never have seen, 
 With a mite of a foot and a bit of a hand, 
 And I vow he was only a crying machine. 
 
 But it 's ho and oho ! for the passengers all ! 
 Pudgy and funny and dimpled 
 
 and small, 
 Who know just enough for their 
 
 mammas to call 
 Here 's to them, wherever 
 they be ! 
 
 5
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 A passenger came from Phantom Land, 
 His baggage forgotten and left behind. 
 
 He had n't a stocking in which to stand, 
 
 And he could n't have stood if he had, you 
 mind. 
 
 He had n't a coat to his blessed name ; 
 
 He had n't a garment ; he had n't a thing. 
 But, worse than all that and I count it a 
 shame 
 
 His hair and his teeth he 'd forgotten to bring. 
 
 But it 's ho and oho ! for the passengers queer ! 
 The little wee despots, we welcome them here. 
 The greater the tyrant, the more he is dear 
 Here 's to them, wherever they be ! 
 
 A passenger came from Phantom Land. 
 
 The customs officials all passed him by. 
 He had n't a thing they could touch on hand ; 
 
 There 's never a tax on an animate cry. 
 6
 
 A Passenger from Phantom Land 
 
 But one there was greeted him, greeted him 
 
 here 
 With a kiss and a prayer that the Father 
 
 heard, 
 For these little passengers still arc dear, 
 
 Though pudgy and useless and quaint and 
 absurd. 
 
 So it 's ho and oho ! for the passengers wee ! 
 They are dear unto you, and they 're dear unto 
 
 me. 
 
 Each care that they bear is a blessing, you see 
 God bless them, wherever they be !
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 OUR HUSHABY SONG 
 
 IS ING to my baby a hushaby song ; 
 She sings to her dolly a lullaby too. 
 " Oh, hush you," I sing, " for the sleep 
 
 angels throng," 
 
 But she singeth only, " Er-goo " and " Er- 
 goo." 
 
 " Oh, hush you, my dearie. 
 
 Through all of the day 
 The little feet weary, 
 
 Wherever they stray. 
 Now white angels gather 
 In Sleep Country fair, 
 Each sent by the Father 
 To welcome you there." 
 8
 
 Our Hushaby Song 
 
 So lowly I sing the even shades through, 
 While she singeth only, " Er-goo " and " Er- 
 goo." 
 
 She sings to her baby ; I sing to my own. 
 
 But she singeth sweeter whate'er I may do, 
 For in all of life's music there soundeth no 
 
 tone 
 
 So sweet as a bairnie's contented " Er-goo." 
 '' So hush you, my dearie. 
 
 The little stars peep, 
 With eyes that are cheery, 
 
 To guard you, asleep ; 
 And peeping, down-peeping, 
 
 Full lowly they say : 
 ' O'er Sleep's river creeping, 
 
 One cometh this way.' " 
 One murmured " Er-goo ; " 
 the elves nearer 
 
 creep, 
 
 And baby and dolly have 
 both gone to sleep.
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 THE BABY IN PANTS 
 
 HE 'S a little bit of baby, 
 'Bout as tall as pa's silk hat, 
 An' as chubby as a cherub, 
 An' you know how chubby 's that. 
 Yistuday my ma, she said she 
 
 Guessed she 'd put him into pants ; 
 An' all other sights that 's funny, 
 They ain't more 'n a circumstance. 
 
 Uncle William, he jus' hollered, 
 
 'Cause the baby looked so queer ; 
 An' my ma she jus' kep' sayin' : 
 
 " B'ess him ! pootsy-wootsy dear." 
 But my pa, he wan't so tickled 
 
 Anyways, he kep' it hid 
 Fer he said : " Fer lan's sake, Ellen, 
 
 Wat you done to that there kid ? " 
 10
 
 The Baby in Pants 
 
 But the baby, he stood wond'rin', 
 
 Kind o' srnilin' in the sun, 
 An' it seemed the brightest sunbeams 
 
 Come to kiss the little one. 
 An' he looked so sweet an' cunnin', 
 
 Standin' where the sunrays glance, 
 That my pa says : " I guess, Ellen, 
 
 That we '11 let him keep them pants." 
 
 11
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 THE LAND OF THREE FEET HIGH 
 
 IN the Land of Three Feet High 
 Very many wonders be ; 
 Castles reaching to the sky, 
 Elfin-haunts in vale or lea ; 
 Fairy boats that ceaseless ply 
 O'er the Sea of Three Feet High. 
 
 There are giants, very tall ; 
 
 Goblins playing in the dell ; 
 Brownies, queerest folk of all ; 
 
 More, ah, more than I can tell ; 
 And I sometimes pause and sigh 
 For the Land of Three Feet High. 
 12
 
 The Land of Three Feet High 
 
 And the people, who are they ? 
 
 Lads and lasses whom we know ; 
 But beside them, where they stray, 
 
 We may never, never go. 
 We have wandered, you and I, 
 From the Land of Three Feet High. 
 
 13
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 LITTLE WILLIE'S CHRISTMAS WISH 
 
 S 
 
 ANTA GLAUS, he brought me a great 
 
 big drum. 
 
 Orto hear me play it ! Bet I make it 
 hum ! 
 Brought my cousin Charlie an engine with a 
 
 bell 
 
 An' a reg'lar whistle that '11 almos' yell. 
 Brought the other fellers nices' kind o' toys ; 
 Hootin', tootin', shootin', makin' lots o' noise. 
 But when the fellers visit me they do mos' 
 
 ev'ry day 
 
 It 's orful diserpointin' what my pa '11 say. 
 Toot, hoot, toot ! 
 Bang, slam, bang ! 
 14
 
 Little Willie's Christmas Wish 
 
 Wile pa gits red an' redder, an' says : " Well, 
 I'll be hang!" 
 
 But ma says : " William Johnson ! Such lan 
 guage to employ ! 
 
 Have you forgotten that you once was jus' a 
 little boy?" 
 
 An' pa says : " S'posin' if I was, this fac' is no 
 less true : 
 
 I did n't have a license then to be a pirit, too." 
 
 What's the use of Santa Glaus if boys can't 
 
 play 
 Without their pas a-gittin' red an' talkin' in 
 
 that way ? 
 
 Never was no fellers 'at are better 'an we be ; 
 Jus' a-playin' with the things he brought to 
 
 them an' me. 
 
 Tootin' with the whistle, shootin' with the gun, 
 Blowin' of the trumpet, havin' lots of fun. 
 Shootin' at a targit, shot my pa instead 
 Orful diserpointin' what my pa then said. 
 Ting-a-ling-ling ! 
 Toot-er-toot-too ! 
 Till pa says : " Oh, blame Santa Glaus ! I guess 
 
 'at that '11 do !" 
 
 15
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 An' he ketches me an' Charlie an' yanks us to 
 
 the door ; 
 An' the fellers say they'll never come to play 
 
 with me no more. 
 An' that is why I 'm wishin', an' so I told my 
 
 ma, 
 That Santa Glaus '11 bring me nex' a bran' new 
 
 pa. 
 
 16
 
 Wen I am Growed Up 
 
 WEN I AM 
 
 GROWED UP 
 
 W'EN I am growed up an' am quite a 
 big man 
 I '11 go vvitli a cirkis, I guess, ef I 
 can 
 
 An' I proberbly can an' I s'pose 'at I '11 be 
 A clown er a ringmaster gorjus to see, 
 An' I '11 act in a tent on mos' ev'ry night, 
 An' the folks '11 say, " Goodness ! 'at feller 's a 
 
 sight ! " 
 An' they '11 yell an' hurrah jus' es loud es they 
 
 can 
 Wen I am growed up an' am quite a big man. 
 
 Wen I am growed up an' am quite I don' 
 
 know, 
 Fer sometimes I think 'at to sea I will go, 
 
 2 17
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 An' I '11 be a bold pirit, to sail the seas through 
 An' capture the ships as the pirits all do, 
 Er a street-car conductor, er brave engineer, 
 Er runnin' a candy-store mos' of the year 
 But ina says to make me a preacher 's her plan, 
 Wen I am growed up an' am quite a big man. 
 
 18
 
 Saint Santa Clans 
 
 SAINT SANTA GLAUS 
 
 TASKED a little girl one day 
 Which saint she liked the best ; 
 " Saint Peter, or Saint Paul ? " I said, 
 " Or which one of the rest ? " 
 And straight she answered me : " Zere 's one 
 
 I likes the best, betoz " 
 Faith ! how I longed to kiss her then ! 
 " He 's dood Saint Santy Tlaus." 
 
 Ho, all ye ones whose heads and hearts 
 
 Have frosted with the years ; 
 So frozen that for childish faith 
 
 You Ve nothing left save sneers, 
 19
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 You 'd better let your hearts thaw out 
 
 By genial nature's laws, 
 For she was right, the little maid : 
 
 " He 's dood Saint Santy Tlaus." 
 
 20
 
 The Remarkable Tale of Miss Kitty Cat 
 
 THE REMARKABLE TALE 
 OF MISS KITTY CAT 
 
 LITTLE Miss Kitty Cat climbed my 
 knee 
 Last night as I sat by the fire, 
 And her eyes were as green as green could be, 
 (Oh, she was a wonderful sight to see !) 
 And her hairs were just like wire, 
 This thin and singular wire. 
 
 But I stroked her gently, I stroked her long, 
 
 Till her eyes grew yellow again, 
 And she sung me the most remarkable song ; 
 The tune went just pur-r-ring and pur-r-ring 
 
 along 
 
 Till she 'd sung it thrice over, and then 
 She sung it all over again. 
 21
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And I wrote down that song just as fast as I 
 could, 
 
 For I knew that you wanted to hear, 
 And I said to myself that you certainly should 
 That is, if you 're 'specially, 'specially good 
 
 And here is its story. Dear ! Dear ! 
 
 A curious story, 't is clear. 
 
 " It was only this evening " so Kitty Cat 
 
 sung 
 " That I walked in a wood where bad doggies 
 
 hung 
 
 By their necks to the limbs of the trees, 
 And I laughed as they swung in the breeze ; 
 For I Ve always insisted 't was plain unto 
 
 me 
 
 That the place for a dog is the limb of a tree, 
 The limb of a very tall tree, 
 Where good little kitties can see 
 How their bow-wows are choked, unless they 're 
 
 of tin, 
 
 And that cannot be, for they 'd have whistles in, 
 And the dogs when they barked would just 
 
 whistle instead, 
 
 And I never have heard them ; no, never ! " she 
 said, 
 
 22
 
 The Remarkable Tale of Miss Kitty Cat 
 
 " And I really don't think it can be ; 
 Do you ? " said Miss Kitty to me, 
 " But I wish I could see such a tree, 
 
 A tree, 
 Such a wonderful, beautiful tree. 
 
 " There were bright yellow birds in that mar 
 vellous wood, 
 And they flew to my feet from the trees, as 
 
 they should, 
 
 And, ' Eat us ; come eat us,' they sung ; 
 (I 'm acquainted, you know, with their 
 
 tongue) 
 And the mice all came running as fast as they 
 
 could, 
 Saying, ' Please cat us first,' and I told them I 
 
 would ; 
 
 I surely and certainly would, 
 For mice are especially good. 
 Then the mice brought me forks, and the birds 
 
 brought me knives, 
 And they all said at once, 'Please commence on 
 
 our wives, 
 For we love them so much, and we 'd give you 
 
 our best, 
 
 And perhaps when they 're eaten you '11 want a 
 long rest. 
 
 23
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Oh, they 're much better eating, you see,' 
 Said those dear, loving husbands to me. 
 Oh, I wish that such blisses could be, 
 
 Could be, 
 Could surely and certainly be ! 
 
 " But, while I was thinking of eating a 
 
 mouse, 
 
 I happened to notice a queer little house, 
 And out came a man with a gun, 
 And he said, ' I will limit your fun,' 
 And he shot a queer bullet made out of Dutch 
 
 cheese, 
 And I shouted, 'Don't, Mister! Oh, don't, if 
 
 you please ! 
 
 Oh, I hope you will certainly please. 
 Can't you see I am weak in the knees ? ' 
 But the queer bullet chased me eight times 
 
 'round a tree, 
 And 't was gaining quite fast, as I could n't but 
 
 see, 
 
 And I wanted to pray, but ' Now I lay me ' 
 Did n't seem quite appropriate then, don't you 
 
 see? 
 
 And a flutter got into my heart, 
 And it seemed that it surely must part; 
 24
 
 The Remarkable Tale of Miss Kitty Oat 
 
 And I waked with a terrible start, 
 
 A start, 
 And I jumped in your lap with that start." 
 
 So that is the story Miss Kitty Cat sung, 
 
 As she lay on my lap last night, 
 And, as I 'in well acquainted with Kitty Cat's 
 tongue, 
 
 I know I have written it right ; 
 And I 've written it all for a wee little one 
 
 Who is dear, oh, so dear unto me, 
 And if it shall please her, now that it is done, 
 
 I '11 be amply repaid, don't you see ? 
 
 And there 's one little thing that I almost forgot : 
 
 Do you see what the moral is, dears ? 
 Did you know what I meant, though you'd 
 
 much rather not, 
 
 When I wrote of Miss Kitty Cat's fears ? 
 Did you see ? You did not ? Well, perhaps 
 
 it 's not queer, 
 Though it well may appear 
 
 so to many, 
 
 For to me it is really remark 
 ably clear 
 
 That the story, you know, 
 has n't any. 
 
 25
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 WHEN THE BABY CAME 
 
 WHEN the baby came that the white 
 stork brings, 
 Such a queer little baby was he, 
 The quaintest and cutest of laughable things, 
 
 He was really a marvel to see, 
 For he puckered his brow, and he twisted his 
 
 eyes, 
 And first he looked simple and then he looked 
 
 wise, 
 And the way that he wailed would cause you 
 
 surprise. 
 It was surely surprising to me, 
 
 You see ; 
 
 It was more than surprising to me. 
 26
 
 When the Baby Came 
 
 When the baby came 't was his grandma said 
 " I 'm sure that he looks like his rna ; " 
 
 But his Aunt Angelina insisted, instead : 
 "I'm certain he favors his pa." 
 
 But the baby he wriggled his little red toes, 
 And he wailed that he wanted to get in his 
 
 clothes, 
 
 Which was perfectly proper, as you may suppose, 
 For he 'd left all his clothing afar 
 
 In the star 
 Where all of the wee babies are. 
 
 When the baby came there was somebody said : 
 " May the Father my little one bless ; " 
 
 And a kiss, like a blessing, fell soft on the head 
 Of the darling she yearned to caress. 
 27
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 But the baby he heeded nor blessing nor prayer, 
 As he blinked at the light with a meaningless 
 
 stare ; 
 
 Yet I 'm sure the petition was registered where 
 There is One who is able to bless, 
 
 And I guess 
 That in answer He stooped to caress. 
 
 28
 
 The Baby's Remarks 
 
 THE BABY'S REMARKS 
 
 THERE is nobody knows the things I 
 think ; 
 There is nobody knows, I guess, 
 As I lie in my crib and blink and blink, 
 With my wee little brain a-kink, a-kink 
 
 With the notions I can't express. 
 There is nobody knows what I try to say, 
 As I lie in my crib and talk this way : 
 
 Goo, goo, goo, goo 
 A toe is a thing to eat 
 
 Goo, goo, goo, goo 
 
 It 's really remarkably sweet. 
 29
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 The nurse took a sticking thing one day 
 
 And pinned a jacket to me. 
 I am not a talker, but I do say 
 That I made them take it away, away, 
 
 For I cried, and I cried, you see. 
 There is nobody knows what I say, no doubt. 
 But I notice they got that sticker out. 
 
 Goo, goo, goo, goo 
 
 I guess that my head I '11 bump 
 Goo, goo, goo, goo 
 
 When I do, watch the big nurse jump. 
 
 30
 
 A Hard, Hard Citizen 
 
 A HARD, 
 HARD CITIZEN 
 
 YOU 'RE a hard, hard citizen." So I 
 said, 
 And he freely admitted that it was so. 
 " You turned my mucilage into the bed, 
 
 But rubbed some part in your hair, you know. 
 You hid my slippers and then forgot, 
 
 And the place where you put them still 
 
 pu/zles me. 
 
 You 're a hard, hard citizen, are you not ? " 
 And he smiled as he answered, " Yeth, I be." 
 
 " The faucet you turned of the coal-oil can, 
 
 Till the floor was drenched by the oily flow; 
 And you chuckled in glee as the liquid ran. 
 
 Now answer me straightly : Is n't it so ? " 
 But the criminal neither did shudder nor shrink, 
 
 As he murmured, " A 'tory p'ease tell to me." 
 "You 're a hard, hard citizen, don't you think ? " 
 
 I said, and he smiled as he said, " I be." 
 31
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 " Your grammar is faulty I M fain suggest," 
 
 I said to the criminal on my knees ; 
 " It would not endure the least critical test ; " 
 And he answered, "Now tell me a 'tory, 
 
 p'ease." 
 
 Now what could I do ? I leave it to you 
 For he 's callous in guilt as the worst of the 
 
 lot, 
 And that he seems hardened is dreadfully 
 
 true 
 So I told him the story. Now, would you not ? 
 
 I told him the story, and then I said : 
 
 " You 're a hard, hard citizen, one can see," 
 And he answered, " I be," and then he pled : 
 
 " Now p'ease, won't oo tell 'nuzzer 'tory to 
 
 me?" 
 Oh, I guess that my discipline 's sadly at fault, 
 
 For I told him a story, the peace to keep, 
 And he murmured low, when I seemed to halt : 
 
 "Now tell me anuzzer," then went to sleep. 
 
 32
 
 The Land of the Hushaby King 
 
 THE LAND OF THE HUSHABY 
 KING 
 
 OTT, safely afloat in a wonderful boat, 
 From over the Sundown Sea, 
 When the tide swings slow and the 
 
 breeze chants low 
 In marvellous minstrelsy, 
 There cometh, there cometh the Hushaby King, 
 
 And dreams are the elves that creep 
 Close, close by his side on the Sundown tide, 
 As he singeth my babe to sleep : 
 
 " By, oh ! by, by, we shall go sailing, 
 
 sailing ; 
 Swing low, swing high, over the Dream Sea 
 
 trailing, 
 3 33
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 With elves of the Dreamland about us a-wing." 
 This is the song of the Hushaby King. 
 
 Oh, little blue eyes, the stars in the skies 
 Of the Dreamland are strangely aglow, 
 And the inoon is the queen of a fairyland 
 
 scene, 
 
 To watch o'er the children below ; 
 And your boat 'mid the islands swings lazily 
 
 o'er 
 
 Where the mermaids in happiness throng, 
 And, down where they dwell, 'neath the surge 
 
 and the swell, 
 They are singing a lullaby song : 
 
 " Sleep, dear ; sleep, sleep, rocked on the rest- 
 tide billow ; 
 
 While near creep, creep, elves to thy downy 
 pillow ; 
 
 You shall be soothed by the flutter of wings." 
 
 This is the song that the mermaiden sings. 
 
 Oh, the far-away strand of the Hushaby Land 
 
 Your little white feet shall press, 
 And the birds of the air shall welcome you 
 
 there 
 
 To blisses no mortal may guess. 
 34
 
 The Land of the Hushaby King 
 
 On wonderful trees sliall the candy-fruit grow ; 
 
 Plum cake to the bushes shall cling ; 
 And no one shall cry, " Don't touch them ! 
 My, my!" 
 
 For the dream-fairies ever will sing : 
 
 " Yours all, yours, dear ; all to be had for the 
 
 taking ; 
 Babes small, babes queer, just give the trees a 
 
 good shaking ; 
 
 For candy in Dreamland 's a very good thing." 
 This is the song that the white fairies sing. 
 
 Oh, far-away strand of the Hushaby Land, 
 
 If I could but go, could go 
 Where my baby doth float in the Lullaby-boat ; 
 
 If I could her rapture know 
 As she laughs in a dream that comes through 
 the night, 
 
 A dream of the elfins at play ! 
 But she drifteth from me o'er the Hushaby Sea, 
 
 And aye to myself I say : 
 
 "By, oh! by, by, bonnie one, drifting, 
 
 drifting ; 
 Swing low, swing high, safe on the sleep-tide 
 
 shifting." 
 
 35
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And my heart doth reply, though closer I 
 
 cling : 
 " She is safe in the arms of the Hushaby 
 
 King." 
 
 36
 
 ' "1 
 
 A VERY QUEER UMBRELLA 
 
 THIS very morn, upon the street, 
 A big umbrella I did meet. 
 At first I thought it walked alone, 
 Though such a thing I 'd never known ; 
 And then my pencil pardon begs 
 I saw it walked on two plump legs. 
 So strange a sight filled me with awe, 
 And so I peeped beneath and saw 
 37
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Saw two bright eyes that laughed to mine 
 Saw two cheeks, red as sun-born wine ; 
 A tiny mouth, just fit to kiss ; 
 Two dimples, Cupid's home of bliss ; 
 A forehead white, with locks of gold 
 Ah, I am sad and gray and old, 
 And much I wished my heart 's so lone 
 That queer umbrella were my own. 
 
 38
 
 Fellow Came to our House 
 
 FELLOW CAME TO OUR HOUSE 
 
 FELLOW came to our house and said he 
 guessed he 'd stay ; 
 Dreadful inconvenient to let him have 
 
 his way 
 
 Had no room for boarders, did n't have a bed 
 Tried to argue with him, and this is what I 
 said: 
 
 " Hey, there, little chap, 
 Come and visit me ! 
 Humpty-bumpty, jumpty-dumpty 
 On your father's knee ! 
 39
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Have you made arrangements 
 To pay for board and cheer ? 
 
 You '11 find them unavailing, 
 
 For we don't take boarders here." 
 
 But though my argument was sound, as I sub 
 mit to you, 
 
 I think he meant that he would stay when he 
 replied, " Goo-oo ! " 
 
 Fellow came to our house, and some one 
 
 talked this way : 
 "'' He 's such a itty-witty that I guess we '11 let 
 
 him stay." 
 I could n't see the logic, but she pressed the 
 
 tiny head 
 
 Still closer to her bosom, and this is what she 
 said : 
 
 "Itty-bitty felly! 
 
 B'essed baby boy ! 
 Come to b'ess his mamma, 
 Come to b'ing her joy ! " 
 And then a tear down-starting 
 Her loving glances blurred ; 
 But her lips kept moving, moving, 
 Though she did n't say a word. 
 40
 
 Fellow Came to our House 
 
 And I knew a prayer she offered and an 
 
 angel heard it, too ; 
 But the baby nestled closer and only said, 
 
 "Goo-oo!" 
 
 41
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 HOW THE BABIES RIDE 
 
 HERE 'S the way the babies ride : 
 High-low, high-low, 
 Sitting their papa's foot astride 
 High-low, high-low. 
 
 First they go up, and then they go down, 
 Shrieking with laughter, their fears to drown. 
 Oh, but the horse deserves renown ! 
 High-low, high-low. 
 
 42
 
 How the Babies Ride 
 
 Here 'a the way the babies ride : 
 
 By-low, by-low, 
 Floating away on the Dream Sea tide 
 
 By-low, by-low. 
 
 Safe where the Sleep-boat lazily swings, 
 Dreaming of beautiful, wonderful things, 
 Lulled by the song that Somebody sings : 
 By-low, by-low. 
 
 43
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 O'ER the Sea of Dreams to the sweet 
 Dreamland 
 Oh, little my love, come hither, T pray, 
 And place in my own your wee white hand, 
 
 And we will go sailing away, away, 
 Down a path of gold by the Isles of Rest, 
 O'er the slumbrous depths of the Sundown 
 
 Sea, 
 
 To the land of lands that we love the best, 
 Where dream angels whisper to you and to 
 me. 
 
 44
 
 O'er the Sea of Dreams 
 
 O'er the Sea of Dreams Oh, little my love, 
 
 Closer yet creep to this heart of mine, 
 While lowly the dream angels hover above 
 
 And there in God's meadows the star-blos 
 soms shine. 
 Under your eyelids the visions shall creep 
 
 Little one, little one, what shall they be ? 
 Something to cause you to smile in your sleep, 
 
 Nestling yet closer and closer to me. 
 
 O'er the Sea of Dreams to the sweet Dream 
 land 
 
 Oh, little my love, what dreams they must be ! 
 Such dreams as a baby may understand ; 
 
 Queer little fancies, as all must agree ; 
 Little half notions, or foolish or wise ; 
 
 Wee floating fragments of babyhood lore. 
 These are your dreams, as I sagely surmise 
 
 Heigh-ho, my little one, what are mine more ? 
 
 O'er the Sea of Dreams; and who's at the 
 
 helm, 
 
 Oh, little my love, nor you nor I 
 May wisely tell, for the Sleep King's realm 
 Is hidden by mists from the passers-by. 
 45
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 It is hidden by mists, yet myself I tell, 
 
 While your eyelids flutter like petals of 
 white, 
 
 The One who is guiding will guide her well 
 So, lit-tle my love, good-night, good-night. 
 
 46
 
 The Schoolgirl that I Hated 
 
 THE SCHOOLGIRL THAT I HATED 
 
 SOMETIMES when memory draws the 
 veil, and I look back a way 
 To where the sun was shining in my 
 
 happy, youthful day, 
 I catch the scent of lilacs as they blossomed by 
 
 our door, 
 And I hear the robins chirping as they used to 
 
 chirp of yore, 
 
 And the oriole is flitting like a ball of living fire, 
 And the river 's sort o' whispering just as though 
 
 't would never tire ; 
 And then, amid the faces that on memory's 
 
 screen I see, 
 
 Comes the schoolgirl that I hated when she sat 
 in front of me. 
 
 47
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Someway I see her plainly now in scanty dress 
 
 of blue, 
 With eyes in part coquettish and in part serene 
 
 and true ; 
 With curls that liked to catch the light and 
 
 twist it in and out, 
 
 And lips just right for kissing, if they were in 
 clined to pout. 
 I knew that she was pretty, but I said she was 
 
 no good 
 Though I could n't help admiring her ; no boy 
 
 that 's human could 
 But she made up faces at me, and she could a 
 
 vixen be, 
 The schoolgirl that I hated when she sat in front 
 
 of me. 
 
 She would n't play at marbles, and she could n't 
 
 play at ball, 
 And I often intimated that she was no good at 
 
 all. 
 I dropped a cricket down her back in cheerful, 
 
 boyish way, 
 And she yelled first ; then I yelled next, when 
 
 teacher was to pay. 
 She would n't " coon " a melon, though I asked 
 
 her oftentimes, 
 
 48
 
 The Schoolgirl that I Hated 
 
 And she ridiculed my first attempts at poor and 
 
 broken rhymes. 
 Oh, she was a thorough failure, as any boy can 
 
 see, 
 The schoolgirl that I hated when she sat in front 
 
 of me. 
 
 She beat me at the lessons that we found within 
 
 our books, 
 And when she went above me all scornful were 
 
 her looks ; 
 But when the teacher whipped me I saw her 
 
 cry one day, 
 And I said that " girls is better 
 
 than what some fellers 
 
 say ; " 
 And I sort of half forgave her for '. 1 ' 
 
 her lack of hardihood, 
 Though I even then insisted that 
 
 she really was no good ; 
 But times have changed since 
 
 then, for I I 'm mar 
 ried, don't you see, 
 To the schoolgirl that I hated 
 
 when she sat in front of 
 
 me. 
 
 49
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 MY ORFUL CROSS-EYED TEACHER 
 
 ONE time I had a teacher I 've had 
 them every kind, 
 But this partic'lar teacher was dis- 
 tractin' to my mind. 
 Of course all sorts of teachers is disturbin' to a 
 
 boy, 
 For they 're always interferin' when he wants to 
 
 have some joy ; 
 But this partic'lar teacher he was worser than 
 
 the rest, 
 
 For there wan't no way of figgerin' on the im 
 pulse in his breast, 
 An' when he looked mos' pensive, then he'd 
 
 light upon me hot, 
 
 My orful cross-eyed teacher what I never have 
 forgot. 
 
 50
 
 My Orful Cross-eyed Teacher 
 
 There wa'n't no way accountin' for the vag'ries 
 
 of that man ; 
 There wa'n't no cunnin' little boy could quite 
 
 foresee his plan. 
 With his eyes both turned on heaven, he 'd seem 
 
 about to pray, 
 An' then you 'd best go mighty slow ; he 'd 
 
 prob'ly come your way ; 
 
 An' when his eyes seemed sot an' fixed some 
 where about his toe, 
 Then, if you pinched another boy, you gen'ly 
 
 stood no show, 
 For he 'd prob'ly land upon you, or he would as 
 
 like as not, 
 This orful cross-eyed teacher what I never have 
 
 forgot. 
 
 One time that I remember, I remember very 
 
 well, 
 I wrote a note to Ethel Moore, my longin' love 
 
 to tell ; 
 An' the teacher he was gazin' on the far-off, 
 
 promised land, 
 So I fired that note at Ethel well, it landed 
 
 in his hand ; 
 An' from the subsekent events I smarted fore 
 
 an' aft, 
 
 51
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 An' my heart it also smarted when I noticed 
 
 Ethel laffed. 
 Oh, he wrenched my young affections an' he 
 
 jarred my spine a lot, 
 That orful cross-eyed teacher what I never have 
 
 forgot. 
 
 I throwed a wad at Charlie Jones when 
 
 teacher's eyes was cast 
 
 Upon a hoss an wagon that jus' then the win 
 der passed. 
 Of the epersode that follered I am still ashamed 
 
 to tell, 
 For the teacher used his ruler, an' I I used 
 
 a yell. 
 He was a diserpointin' chap, that pedergog, I 
 
 swear, 
 An' when he looked straight at a thing he 
 
 was n't lookin' there. 
 Because of him my youthful days was triberla- 
 
 tion-shot, 
 This orful cross-eyed teacher what I never have 
 
 forgot. 
 
 Oh, good an' noble little boys what still by 
 school are vexed, 
 52
 
 My Orful Cross-eyed Teacher 
 
 If you will listen to my words I '11 surely put 
 
 you " next," 
 For one day a glad discovery sung a siren song 
 
 to me : 
 When the teacher looked right at me, what I 
 
 did he did n't see. 
 Oh, good an' noble little boys who watch the 
 
 master's nod, 
 When the cross-eyed teacher 's lookin', then 's 
 
 the time to fire the wad. 
 This grain of wisdom garnered served to cheer 
 
 my weary lot 
 With the orful cross-eyed teacher what I never 
 
 have forgot. 
 
 53
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 "I LOVE YOU EACH YEAR 
 BETTER " 
 
 I'M twelve years old to-day," she said, 
 I kissed and held her nearer, 
 For every year that onward fled 
 Had made her but the dearer. 
 " I 'in growing quite a girl, you see," 
 
 My hand reached out to pet her 
 " But then, you know, it seems to me 
 I love you each year better." 
 54
 
 "/ Love You Each Year Better" 
 
 Now tell me, you who sup with care 
 
 As time grows old and older, 
 Could lips a sweeter message bear 
 
 When hearts with age turn colder? 
 So, little love, my soul shall pray, 
 
 As years our life-links fetter, 
 That I may always hear you say : 
 
 " I love you each year better." 
 
 55
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 HOW THE FLOWERS GROW 
 
 DO you know, darling, how pansies 
 grow? 
 God takes the tints of the sunset 
 glow, 
 
 The purple that floats in the mountain mist, 
 The blush of a maid by her love first kissed, 
 The blue that 's asleep in the midday skies, 
 The brown that I love in my baby's eyes, 
 And He mingles them all in a flower ; and so, 
 That is the way that the pansies grow. 
 
 Do you know, darling, how lilies grow? 
 God takes the soul of the beautiful snow 
 And moulds it into a chalice sweet, 
 Pure and wonderful, fair, complete ; 
 56
 
 How the Flowers Grow 
 
 Then He takes the gold of my baby's hair 
 And sets it amid the whiteness there, 
 As in night's white skies the bright stars glow; 
 And that is the way that the lilies grow. 
 
 Do you know, darling, how roses grow ? 
 Ah, that is the strangest of all, I know ; 
 For they are the fairest of all things fair, 
 The one perfect blossom, beyond compare ; 
 Symbol of sweetness and all loveliness 
 God wished His children to comfort and bless, 
 And He wrote the thought in a flower ; and so, 
 That is the way that the roses grow. 
 
 57
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 MY YOUTHFUL PANTS 
 
 COME back, come back, my youthful 
 pants ; 
 Come back, come back to me, 
 For nevermore by any chance 
 
 Your equal I shall see. 
 My mother made them ; I recall 
 
 How wondrous was their fit, 
 For I was some six sizes small 
 Into the things to " git." 
 
 She made them out of father's pants ; 
 The bosom was his size. 
 58
 
 My Youthful Pants 
 
 The sight of me in them by chance 
 
 Would fill you with surprise. 
 They hung straight from my shoulder-blade 
 
 In folds beyond belief, 
 And when the eastern zephyrs played 
 
 I had to take a reef. 
 
 And, oh, my youthful heart would swell 
 
 Beneath the fearful brunt 
 Of feeling that no one could tell 
 
 Which side I wore in front. 
 I still remember T would use 
 
 The slack in carrying chips, 
 And when to raise it I did choose 
 
 My face was in eclipse. 
 
 And all the little boys I met 
 
 Would, joyous, 'round me dance 
 And cry in tones I can't forget : 
 "Where did you git them\~ 
 
 pants ? " 
 Oh, trousers dear of long ago ; 
 
 Oh, panties wild and free, 
 Where you have gone I long 
 
 to know ! 
 
 Come back, come back to 
 me! 
 
 59
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 HAVE you ever heard tell of Wonder 
 Land, 
 Of the dear little, queer little, comical 
 band 
 
 That stumble and fumble and want to know 
 Where they are going and why they go ? 
 They sit in our laps as the eve grows dark, 
 And they take the shape of a question mark, 
 For all that is written in face or eye 
 Is wholly expressed by the one word, " Why ? " 
 
 " Why don't the sun burn up some day ? " 
 " Why don't we fly, as the birdies do ? " 
 " Why don't the chickens and hens eat hay ? ' 
 60
 
 " Why do the scissors cut things in two ? " 
 Such are the questions of Wonder Land, 
 Of its dear little, queer little, comical band. 
 
 These are the people of Wonder Land : 
 
 Queer little duffers as tall as your stand. 
 
 Wee little fellows who want to know 
 
 More than the wisest can tell, I trow ; 
 
 For the world is so big, and the world is so 
 
 strange ; 
 
 Its paths are so hidden as onward they range, 
 That who dares to wonder 't is surely not I 
 They look in amazement while questioning, 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Why are the stars put out in the day ? " 
 " Who is it lights them when night comes 
 
 down ? " 
 
 " Why don't my ma have whiskers, I say ? " 
 " Why are the houses all built in town ? " 
 These are the things they cannot understand, 
 The odd little people of Wonder Land. 
 
 Oh, little wee people of Wonder Land, 
 There 's one thing I wish you could understand : 
 We folk who are older are not so wise 
 We can answer the questions in your dear eyes ; 
 61
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 For really, you know it is certainly true 
 In the Country of Wonder we live with you ; 
 And if any can answer, 't is surely not I, 
 For T, too, am lost in the maze of " Why ? " 
 
 Why have I come from the mists of There ? 
 
 Why am I lost in the mists of Here ? 
 What is the gain in the burden we bear? 
 
 What is the end that is glimmering near ? 
 And if these be not questions of Wonder Land, 
 The difference, my bairnies, I don't understand. 
 
 62
 
 But Two Children 
 
 BUT TWO CHILDREN 
 
 THEY grow so weary, the little feet, 
 With their day-long, ceaseless 
 hurry ; 
 
 So when there coineth the even' sweet 
 When we bury the haunting worry, 
 She patters to me, and, wistful eyed, 
 
 She says : " I am finkin' maybe 
 You '11 hold me to s'eep, an' my dolly beside, 
 Betause I am just oor baby." 
 
 Then I hold her a time, till her head droops low 
 
 And her soul creepeth out to the shadows ; 
 
 63
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And she and her dolly together do go 
 
 To the Dreamland's star-flecked meadows ; 
 
 And, holding her so, I am glad to know 
 She is safe from the outside weather ; 
 
 And sometimes I say in a dreamy way : 
 " We are but two children together." 
 
 We are but two children. At even' we 
 
 Are wearied alike by the hurry, 
 And we long for the rest that shall set us free 
 
 From the daytime's care and worry. 
 And as she creeps to her father's arms, 
 
 Still holding her dolly near her, 
 And as I guard her from all alarms 
 
 And tenderly soothe and cheer her, 
 
 So do I turn, though I hold life's toys 
 
 Closer and closer unto me, 
 To the One who heedeth our woes and joys 
 
 For rest and for strength to renew me ; 
 And as my darling ne'er pleads in vain, 
 
 With soft baby prattle, " Pease hold me," 
 So do I whisper, through toil and through pain 
 
 " The arms of His love do enfold me."
 
 MY PA AN' MA 
 
 MY pa he is the wises' man, I s'pose, 
 you ever seen ; 
 He knows jus' why mos' all things 
 is, an' knows jus' what they mean. 
 He knows a heap more than my ma, 'cause he 's 
 
 a man, you see ; 
 He ain't a woman like she is, though tol'ble 
 
 good to me ; 
 6 65
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 But when I ask him questions 'bout the things 
 
 I 'd like to know, 
 He sort o' scowls at me at firs', an then he 
 
 answers so : 
 
 " Do go away ! 
 
 Don't bother me ! 
 I 'in busy now ! 
 
 Say, can't you see ? " 
 
 But when I ask my ma, why, then she allers 
 
 ans'ers me. 
 
 I 'd learn a sight if she knew things almos' as 
 well as he. 
 
 When pa an' Mr. Jones sits down an' talk an 
 
 hour or less, 
 I wish the Presiden' could hear: he'd learn 
 
 some things, I guess, 
 'Bout why the country ain't worth shucks, an' 
 
 why it orto be. 
 My pa he makes them things so clear that even 
 
 I can see. 
 He proves how ever'thing should be, an' how 
 
 it 's all amiss, 
 But when I ask him questions, then he answers 
 
 me like this : 
 
 66
 
 " Oh, run away, 
 
 You foolish lad ! 
 Questions like yours 
 
 Will drive me mad ! " 
 
 But ma, she tells me all she knows, an' that 
 
 much has to go. 
 I wish she knew as much as pa, fer then I judge 
 
 I 'd know. 
 
 An' yet my questions all is 'bout the things boys 
 
 like to know. 
 I asked him once, I recollec', why things I drop 
 
 don't go 
 Up in the air instead of down, the way they 
 
 alters do ; 
 An' once I asked if God gits tired of holdin' 
 
 office, too, 
 The way men never does, pa says. I ask such 
 
 things as these, 
 But pa, he scowls an' says, although I ask him 
 
 with a " please : " 
 
 " Oh, run away ! " 
 An' then I 'in fired 
 
 " Questions like yours 
 Do make me tired ! " 
 67
 
 Laysfor Little Chaps 
 
 But ma, she ans'ers all she can, an' holds me to 
 
 her breast. 
 I guess my pa does know the mos', but ma, she 
 
 loves me best. 
 
 68
 
 The Mournful Tale of the Snee Zee Familee 
 
 THE MOURNFUL TALE OF THE 
 SNEE ZEE FAMILEE 
 
 THERE was a little yellow man whose 
 name it was Ah Cheu, 
 And every time that Mongol sneezed 
 he told his name to you. 
 This funny little yellow man had wedded Tish 
 
 Ah Chee, 
 
 And they, when certain time had passed, had 
 children one, two, three. 
 There was little Ah Cheu 
 And Tish Ah Tsu, 
 
 And the baby was named Ker Chee, 
 And their Uncle Ker Chawl 
 And his wife were all 
 69
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Of the Snee Zee fam-i-lee, 
 And when the mama stood and called her cliil- 
 
 dren from the door, 
 You would laugh and laugh for an hour and a 
 
 half if never you laughed before. 
 " Ah Cheu," she 'd say in her feminine way, 
 
 " bring in the little Ker Chee, 
 And Tish Ah Tsu, bring him in, too, to the 
 
 Snee Zee fam-i-lee." 
 
 Alas and alack ! but my voice will crack as the 
 
 mournful tale I tell. 
 To that sweet little band in the Mongol land a 
 
 terrible fate befell. 
 On a summer day in a sportive way they called 
 
 one another all, 
 
 And over and o'er the names they bore they 
 would call and call and call. 
 They called Ah Cheu 
 And Tish Ah Tsu 
 
 And the baby Ker Chee, Ker Chee, 
 And their Uncle Ker Chawl, 
 They called them all, 
 Till they 're dead as the dead can be. 
 Ah Cheu was tough, and was used to snuff, so 
 he lived at his fate to scoff, 
 70
 
 The Mournful Tale of the Snee Zee Familee 
 
 But the rest are dead, as I 've heretofore said, 
 for their heads they were all sneezed oft'. 
 
 And this is the tale I have tried to wail of Ah 
 Cheu and his little Ker Chee 
 
 And Tish Ah Tsu and Ah Chee, too, of the Snee 
 Zee fam-i-lee. 
 
 71
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 c 
 
 "I'M PRAYING FOR YOU" 
 
 THERE 'S a quaint little letter that lies 
 on my stand, 
 A quaint little letter in old-fashioned 
 hand. 
 
 It is lacking somewhat in rhetorical grace, 
 And its capital letters at times lose their place. 
 It scarcely would bear the most critical test ; 
 Yet of all correspondence I hold it the best, 
 For it ends ah, in love it was written all 
 
 through : 
 
 " Remember, my boy, that I 'm praying for you." 
 72
 
 "7'w Praying for You" 
 
 " Remember, my boy " Oli, an old boy am I, 
 With a head that shines back to the laugh of 
 
 the sky, 
 
 But to her I 'm " my boy," and I always will be 
 Till the white angel steps 'twixt my mother and 
 
 me, 
 
 And longer ; the love that has guarded my way 
 I know will not cease at the close of the day, 
 But will whisper me still from the infinite 
 
 blue : 
 " Remember, my boy, that I 'm praying for 
 
 you." 
 
 "I'm praying for you " God knows we all 
 
 need 
 That some heart of love to the Father shall 
 
 plead, 
 For our feet will but stumble on life's weary 
 
 way, 
 
 And we frequently find that we 're sadly astray. 
 We say to our spirits, " Be brave and press on," 
 But the spirit will faint, and the soul will grow 
 
 wan ; 
 And then comes the message, our strength to 
 
 renew : 
 
 " Remember, my boy, that I 'm praying for you." 
 73
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Remember ! Oh, mother, I could not forget ; 
 Still the dear, loving message my lashes will 
 
 wet, 
 
 As I read it here written in old-fashioned hand 
 In the quaint little letter that lies on my stand ; 
 And in fancy I see you, as often of old, 
 When love kissed your face into beauty untold, 
 As you knelt by rny cot With eyes strangely 
 
 dim, 
 Your boy does remember you're praying for 
 
 him. 
 
 74
 
 The Loving Mother 
 
 THE LOVING MOTHER 
 
 SHE had been a loving mother and a very 
 faithful wife ; 
 She had reared their seven children and 
 
 had fitted them for life, 
 And through all their days of childhood she had 
 
 taken little ease, 
 
 For whene'er she thought of resting, it was, 
 " Mother, won't you please 
 75
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 " Won't you please to fix my bonnet ? " 
 " I say, mother, where 's my hat ? " 
 
 " Put this piece of ribbon on it." 
 
 " Won't you fix my doll like that ? " 
 
 So, from six o'clock of mornings until ten 
 
 o'clock at night, 
 She hurried, as though resting were a thing that 
 
 was n't right ; 
 And they said, the while she wearied in the 
 
 ceaseless toil and strife : 
 " She is such a loving mother, and she 's such a 
 
 faithful wife ! " 
 
 Of course they loved her greatly, as bairns and 
 husband should ; 
 
 As she grew thin with slaving they would mur 
 mur, " She 's so good ! " 
 
 But when, at times, a moment just for rest she 
 fain would seize, 
 
 (Of course they were but thoughtless) it was, 
 " Mother, won't you please 
 
 " Won't you mend this hole? It 's shocking." 
 " T say, Sarah, where 's that pail ? " 
 
 " Won't you please to fix this stocking ? " 
 " Can't you make my boat a sail ? " 
 76
 
 The Loving Mother 
 
 And so, by mending, cooking, and a thousand 
 
 labors pressed, 
 She never quite could find the time to take the 
 
 needed rest. 
 But e'er, as she grew thinner in the constant toil 
 
 of life, 
 They said : " She 's such a mother, and she 's 
 
 such a faithful wife ! " 
 
 One day this little woman felt sadly worn and 
 
 tired ; 
 She could n't labor for the rest, although she 
 
 still desired. 
 They bore her tenderly to bed ; she weakened 
 
 by degrees, 
 And the house seemed half deserted with no 
 
 " Mother, won't you please 
 
 " Won't you please ? " The words unspoken 
 
 Yet she heard in fitful dreams, 
 As they knew by many a token, 
 
 By the fever's prattled themes, 
 
 Till one morn the great white angel took her 
 
 gently to his breast, 
 Whispering softly, " You have labored. Lo, I 
 
 give to you my rest." 
 
 77
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Once she sighed, "How will they manage?" 
 
 Then she faded out of life. 
 She was such a loving mother and was such a 
 
 faithful wife. 
 
 Sometimes I close my eyes and try to dream of 
 
 her at rest, 
 And finding life is easy in the country of the 
 
 blest ; 
 But it 's difficult to fancy, for in those white 
 
 courts of ease 
 Ofttimes, I judge, in dreams she hears, " Now, 
 
 mother, won't you please 
 78
 
 The Loving Mother 
 
 " Won't you step down here a minute; 
 
 They can spare you up that way ? 
 Here 's this work ; I can't begin it 
 
 I am needing you to-day." 
 
 Then, perhaps, she starts, and whispers to some 
 
 angel fair and white : 
 " Oh, this resting 's pleasant, pleasant ; it is 
 
 sweet, but is it right ? " 
 For how can she in a moment break the habit 
 
 of a life ? 
 She was such a loving mother and was such a 
 
 faithful wife. 
 
 79
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 THE DESPOT KINGS 
 
 DO you know of the Despot Kings that 
 stray 
 Out of the Land of the Far- Away 
 Into the Country of Now and Here, 
 Despots and tyrants all, but dear? 
 Do you know the blink that means, " Obey ! " 
 And the midnight clamor that brings dismay 
 To the subjects forlorn, who natheless spring 
 To do the will of the Despot King ? 
 
 Bundle of wriggles and wails and twists ; 
 
 Vacant of face and eye ; 
 Helplessly beating with Lilliput fists 
 
 Who doth the Kings defy ? 
 80
 
 The Despot Kings 
 
 Once I was fief to a Despot King, 
 
 And my heart bowed down like a broken 
 
 thing, 
 For he ordered me out when the night was 
 
 chill, 
 And I said, " I will not ; " and he said, " You 
 
 will!" 
 
 Oh, spare me the tale that is old, so old, 
 For ever and aye till the stars grow cold 
 The children of men must tribute bring 
 To the midnight throne of a Despot King. 
 
 Scanty in wisdom and strong of lung ; 
 
 Living to sleep and cry ; 
 Standing the pygmies and elves among 
 
 Who doth the Kings defy ? 
 
 Once I was fief to a Despot King, 
 
 But the hours and the Seasons onward swing ; 
 
 And out of my life he passed one day, 
 
 And the world was dark, and its skies were 
 
 gray; 
 
 And now at the last I know full well 
 That all of peace for my soul did dwell 
 In the baby voice that made me spring 
 To do his bidding, my Despot King. 
 6 81
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Fair as a lily ; white and wee ; 
 
 Holding my heart in thrall ; 
 Oh, ghosts of the long dead years, to me 
 
 My Despot King recall. 
 
 82
 
 / Wish I Was an Engineer 
 
 I WISH I was an engineer. I guess I 'd 
 like to stand 
 In the cabin of an engine, with a thing 
 umbob in hand, 
 And when I 'd pull that thingumbob the engine 
 
 then would go 
 Out, out into the night-time when the stars is 
 
 hangin' low ; 
 
 I 'd see the lights of houses goin' gleamin' gleam- 
 in' past, 
 
 83
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Like a last-campaign percession when it 's 
 
 walkin' middliu' fast; 
 And then I 'd pull the whistle-string an' hear 
 
 the engine say : 
 "Hey, there! you little mites of men, you'd 
 
 better clear the way ! " 
 I would n't mind just loads of black upon my 
 
 face and clothes 
 If I could be an engineer, the land o' goodness 
 
 knows ! 
 
 I wish I was an engineer. Then boys would 
 
 look at me, 
 An' say : " Hey, Jimmy, here 's de chap wot 
 
 runs de engine. See ! " 
 An' then I 'd pull the whistle-string an' never 
 
 smile a bit 
 When that big noise would scare the boys 
 
 almost into a fit, 
 Because I 'd know, as engineers, I guess, 'most 
 
 always do, 
 That if a noise scares little boys, they 're apt to 
 
 like it, too. 
 Just whiskin' through a hundred towns, straight 
 
 onward hour by hour, 
 While all the time the ceaseless " chug " beats 
 
 out the Song of Power ; 
 84
 
 I Wish I Was an Engineer 
 
 Oh, you will talk admirin' of your Kings and 
 
 Czars, maybe 
 To be an engineer, you bet ! were good enough 
 
 for me. 
 
 I wish I was an engineer, to sit there like a 
 
 Turk 
 An' smile to see the fireman sweat while doin' 
 
 of the work. 
 I s'pose that Emp'rers has a snap, to which, of 
 
 course, they 're born, 
 But if I was an engineer I 'd look on them 
 
 with scorn. 
 Just sittin' in my cab up there and listenin' all 
 
 the time 
 
 85
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Unto the constant " chug-chug-chug," that 
 
 ceaseless, mighty rhyme, 
 And knowin' that a hundred lives was trusted 
 
 unto me, 
 I guess I 'd feel a sense of power ; I 'd catch the 
 
 music's key 
 And hear it singin' in my soul as down the 
 
 world I 'd go, 
 If I were but an engineer But, then, I 
 
 ain't, you know. 
 
 86
 
 It 's Hard to Say 
 
 IT'S HARD 
 TO SAY 
 
 I MISS the patter-patter 
 Of the tiny little feet ; 
 I miss the prattled chatter ; 
 I miss the kisses sweet. 
 But I guess that Heaven 's lighter 
 
 For the babe I laid to rest, 
 And some angel's face is brighter 
 As she holds her to her breast. 
 
 I knew not how to spare her ; 
 
 E'en yet my heart is numb, 
 For life held nothing fairer 
 
 Oh, wayward tears that come, 
 Perhaps the Father sought her 
 
 For His own home of light 
 Because He felt without her 
 
 No Heaven were perfect, quite. 
 87
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Sometimes from life's long battle 
 
 I turn, and sit a while, 
 And seem to hear her prattle 
 
 And see my darling's smile. 
 And then I say, " It 's better. 
 
 She missed the weary fray 
 And Worry's chain and fetter ; " 
 
 But, oh, it 's hard to say. 
 
 It 's hard to say, for ever 
 
 My heart will listen still 
 For prattle sounding never, 
 
 For baby laughter's trill : 
 And where the shadows gather 
 
 I look to see her stand 
 My darling with the Father 
 
 And reaeh to take her hand. 
 
 I guess that Heaven 's fairer 
 Because my babe is there, 
 
 But, oh, this life is barer, 
 With naught to lighten care. 
 88
 
 It 's Hard to Say 
 
 I try to say, " It 's better," 
 But, though my lips obey, 
 
 They speak but form and letter, 
 For, oh, it 's hard to say. 
 
 89
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 A LITTLE, 
 LITTLE FELLOW 
 
 THERE 'S a little, little fellow, and he 's 
 really very small, 
 For he measures by my table and he 
 is n't quite so tall ; 
 And this little, little fellow in the evening 
 
 seeks my knees, 
 And he says: " Now won't oo tell me jus' the 
 
 nicest 'tories, p'ease ? " 
 And then I tell him stories that I wouldn't 
 
 dare to say 
 Are of the usual run of things we meet on 
 
 every day; 
 And the last thing that he asks me is, with 
 
 story-telling through, 
 
 " Now does oo 'pose when I 'in growed up 
 I '11 know as much as oo ? " 
 90
 
 A Little, Little Fellow 
 
 Oh, little, little fellow, who sit upon ray knee, 
 
 I know how all misplaced is this, the faith you 
 rest in me. 
 
 My wisdom is a fiction, and my stock of knowl 
 edge small ; 
 
 Like you, I guess the Father knows, and He is 
 over all. 
 
 I stumble on the journey, and I falter as I go, 
 
 And where the days shall lead me, I never, 
 never know. 
 
 But, though I'm all unworthy of your faith, it 
 cheers me, too, 
 
 With <l Does oo 'pose, when I 'm growed up, 
 I '11 know as much as oo ? " 
 
 Oh, little, little fellow, I really hope you will. 
 
 I want to feel when I leave off you '11 be ad 
 vancing still ; 
 
 And if sometimes I half have seen a light be 
 yond the mist, 
 
 I trust that by its purest rays your pathway 
 may be kissed. 
 
 But, whatsoe'er the years may bring, and what 
 soe'er their lore, 
 
 Someway I 'm hoping here to-night, as I have 
 hoped before, 
 
 91
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 That you may keep some part, at least, of faith 
 
 in me you knew 
 When oft you asked if" When I 'm growed I Ml 
 
 know as much as oo." 
 
 92
 
 The Baby's Faith 
 
 THE BABY'S FAITH 
 
 WE stood the other night before 
 The little cottage that is home. 
 I listened to her baby lore 
 About the stars in yonder dome. 
 'T was baby prattle, yet I guess 
 
 Perhaps she knows as much as I - 
 This side she knows a little less, 
 But more of things beyond the sky. 
 
 Then, while she prattled on, a star 
 
 A-sudden gleamed adown the world, 
 As if some angel from afar 
 
 A lance of flame had earthward hurled ; 
 And baby looked, with sagest nod, 
 
 As if to say : " I see I see ; " 
 Then smiling said : " I dess 'at Dod 
 
 Is frowin' stars down here to me." 
 93
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And then she paused. A mighty thought 
 
 Was struggling in her baby mind: 
 Suppose such fusillade were fraught 
 
 With danger, as she half opined, 
 What then ? what then ? At this " suppose " 
 
 The blue eyes wide and wider grew ; 
 Then faith spoke out : " I dess Dod knows 
 
 He won't hurt baby now don't 'oo ? " 
 
 Oh, little one, my little one, 
 
 Give me the faith so wholly thine. 
 When life's skies darken and the sun 
 Is hidden from this soul of mine, 
 And when God's missiles from His 
 
 sky 
 
 Rain on my life-path, blazing, all, 
 Let faith to doubting then reply : 
 " No harm from Him shall e'er befall." 
 
 And little one, my little one, 
 
 If this sweet faith may ne'er be mine ; 
 If still through fog of doubt I run 
 
 And fear to trust the love divine, 
 Yet none the less for you I pray 
 
 The heart speaks, though the lips be dumb 
 That Faith through all life's strife may say : 
 
 " From Him, from Him no harm shall come." 
 
 94
 
 When Brother Stiggins Come to Tea 
 
 WHEN BROTHER STIGGINS COME 
 TO TEA 
 
 WHEN Brother Stiggins come to cull, 
 he gen'ly stayed to tea ; 
 An' ma would wash our faces all, an' 
 frequen'ly spank me, 
 An' then she 'd say, " You mus' be good, an' set 
 
 still in your cheer, 
 An' not ask twice fer things to eat when Brother 
 
 Stiggins 's here." 
 An' then we 'd go to table, an' the parson, he 'd 
 
 ask grace, 
 
 An' 'bout that time my brother, he would make 
 an orful face ; 
 
 95
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Then I M jus' snicker, an' my ma you ort her 
 
 look to see, 
 When Brother Stiggins come to call, an' when 
 
 he stayed to tea. 
 
 I s'pose the grace he allers said wus full ten 
 
 minutes long, 
 An' all the time his voice would sound a good 
 
 deal like a song. 
 He 'd ask the Lord to kindly heed the heathen 
 
 in distress 
 Who can't git chicken-pie like ours, an' other 
 
 things that bless. 
 An' then he'd say: " Eft ain't too much, jus' 
 
 bless our Congress, too ; 
 We know, dear Lord, there ain't a thing that 
 
 You hain't power to do ; 
 An' bless us common folks " An' then my 
 
 brother, he 'd hunch me, 
 An' 'neath the table we would fight, when he 
 
 had come to tea. 
 
 An' then he 'd say : " Dear Lord, forgive these 
 
 wicked little boys 
 Who seem possessed, by Satan's power, to make 
 
 a dretful noise. 
 
 96
 
 When Brother Stiggins Come to Tea 
 
 Oh, let them not go down in wrath to wicked 
 ness an' sin, 
 
 An' 'specially, dear Lord, forgive the one that 
 kicked my shin." 
 
 An' when that grace wus ended, then my ma 
 would leave her place, 
 
 An' say, " Excuse me w'ile I 'tend to these here 
 younguns' case." 
 
 An' then she 'd take us to the shed, my brother 
 Joe an' me, 
 
 An' argue with us with a strap, when he had 
 come to tea. 
 
 I don't blame ma ; I never did. We 'd act like 
 
 all possessed ; 
 An' course it 's wrong to make a row when 
 
 things is bein' blessed ; 
 An,' too, it 's right to ask a grace, fer grace is 
 
 what we need 
 To git along with folks we meet an' not run all 
 
 to seed. 
 But, still, consid'rin' that us boys wus pretty 
 
 middlin' young, 
 An* seein' that the parson's prayer wus mighty 
 
 nearly sung, 
 
 ? 97
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 I now contend, an' allers shall, although per 
 haps I 'm wrong, 
 
 When Brother Stiggins come to tea his grace 
 wus too blamed long.
 
 Her Faith Never Falters 
 
 MY little daughter comes to me, 
 And whispers, " I am sorry ; " 
 And I I take her on my knee 
 And tell her not to worry ; 
 And then I kiss her, and she knows 
 
 How tenderly I love her. 
 We 're just two children, I suppose ; 
 I not a whit above her. 
 
 And then she lays her cheek to mine, 
 
 And says, " I love you dearly ; " 
 And in my eyes the teardrops shine 
 
 My heart will act so queerly. 
 She says, " My papa is so good," 
 
 Though I 'in unworthy of her. 
 Dear little type of maidenhood, 
 
 I love her, oh, I love her. 
 99
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 I think sometimes I VI like to go 
 
 And tell her, " I am sorry," 
 For, oh, my feet do falter so 
 
 'Mid life's unending worry. 
 Dear, loyal heart ! Suppose I should, 
 
 (I have done so or nearly) 
 She 'd only say : " My papa 's good. 
 
 I love him, oh, so dearly." 
 
 So, 'mid the storm of life and years, 
 
 My little daughter's kisses 
 And loyal faith have dried my tears, 
 
 And cares exchanged for blisses. 
 And, as I write, if tears will start, 
 
 They 're tears of gladness merely, 
 For these words bless my weary heart 
 " I love my papa dearly.' 
 
 100
 
 MOTHER used to come ami say : 
 " Come little boy ; it 's time to rise. 
 Wake right up without delay ; 
 Shake yourself, and rub your eyes." 
 An' I'd say: "Huh! Wha Ye-e-es," and 
 
 then 
 Go right off to sleep again. 
 
 Soon she'd come again and say, 
 
 Just as gently as before : 
 " Wake, and see this lovely day. 
 
 Don't go to sleep, dear, any more." 
 An' I 'd say : "Yes I 'm coming; " then 
 
 Go right off to sleep again. 
 101
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Did n't matter though ; no less 
 
 Patient, gentle, kind was she 
 When she came and said : " I guess 
 
 My little boy asleep must be." 
 An' I said : " I '11 get up," and then 
 
 Went right off to sleep again. 
 
 Then my father came to call. 
 
 'T was but little that he said ; 
 Just one word, and that was all, 
 
 Just one word, and that, " A\-fred !" 
 Just one word, you see, but then 
 
 I did n't go to sleep again. 
 
 Just that difference ! 
 
 But, you see, 
 I Ve been thinking, 
 
 here alone, 
 Could my mother now 
 
 call me 
 In the gentle, loving 
 
 tone 
 Of the past, I 'd wake, 
 
 and then 
 
 I would n't go to 
 
 sleep again. 
 
 102
 
 THE SONG OF SONGS 
 
 WRITE me a song," said the Master, 
 " that shall ring through the halls 
 of time ; 
 A song that shall thrill my children and urge 
 
 them to deeds sublime." 
 So the poet touched his wonderful harp and 
 
 sung in a minor key 
 How out of Earth's care, and its travail, the 
 
 soul rises pure and free ; 
 How under the face of laughter there throbbeth 
 
 the heart of pain, 
 Yet he who doth battle and conquer, the 
 
 heights of the blest shall gain. 
 He sang of the lesson of sorrow, the meaning 
 of trouble and tears, 
 103
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And the guerdon that conies to the faithful 
 
 after the strife of years. 
 But the Master stood unmoved. 
 
 Then the poet struck his harp again, a wild, 
 
 triumphant lay 
 That told of the nations' battles, their ceaseless 
 
 strife and fray ; 
 And through it one saw the armies as they 
 
 marched and countermarched, 
 And heard the groans of the dying, the gurgle 
 
 from lips pain-parched. 
 Then he told in a sweeter, gentler strain that 
 
 ravished the listening ear 
 How the dear God loves His children, and cares 
 
 for their struggles here, 
 And how He will guide and lead them, after 
 
 the toil and strife, 
 
 Gently, oh, gently upward to the wonderful 
 ' Hills of Life. 
 But the Master stood unmoved. 
 
 Then the poet's soul was weary, and he sung 
 
 of the brood of care 
 Who dwell in the haunts and purlieus, with 
 
 Want as a spectre there ; 
 104
 
 The Song of Songs 
 
 And the song that he sang was tragie ; it 
 sobbed with a chord of pain 
 
 For the haunted, the starved, the weary, whose 
 tears fall down like rain ; 
 
 And under the throbbing music was a male 
 diction heard 
 
 For those who have wronged His children, and 
 eyes with tear-drops blurred. 
 
 There was loathing and stern abhorrence for 
 these, the favored few, 
 
 Who heed not the old, old message : Do as 
 
 ye 'd have them do. 
 But the Master stood unmoved. 
 
 And then through the open doorway stole the 
 
 sound of a childish voice, 
 Ringing in happy laughter, making the soul 
 
 rejoice, 
 And the poet caught its music, for the laughter 
 
 was dear to him, 
 And his heart breathed out its story, though 
 
 his eyes with tears were dim ; 
 And, oh, the wonderful music ! It reached to 
 
 the blue sky's dome, 
 Telling of peace and gladness in the beautiful 
 
 Land of Home, 
 
 105
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Of the dear little feet that patter, of the lips 
 
 that our own caress 
 For the poet forgot his heartache when his 
 
 little one came to bless. 
 And the Master's eyes were dim. 
 
 106
 
 A Song for the Babies 
 
 A SONG FOR THE BABIES 
 
 NOW here is a song for the babies, who 
 Are dreadfully puzzled just what to 
 do 
 
 With their ten little fingers and ten little toes, 
 Their two little ears, and their one little nose, 
 And their queer little mouth, down under their 
 
 eyes, 
 Which they open to laugh, and straightway it 
 
 cries, 
 To the total surprise, and the wonder and 
 
 doubt 
 
 Of the wee little babies I 'm singing about. 
 107
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 A song for the babies who lie and blink, 
 And really imagine they 're trying to think, 
 Thinking of things they can't understand, 
 Of why they can't eat each chubby, fat hand ; 
 For they eat it, and eat it it cuts such a 
 
 "figger"- 
 And the more that they eat it, the more it 
 
 grows bigger ; 
 
 And this is enough, past a question or doubt, 
 To puzzle the babies I 'm singing about. 
 
 A song for the babies who laugh and coo 
 As only a baby knows how to do, 
 And they talk in a language none understand 
 Save those who have travelled in Babyland ; 
 And the ones who have travelled, the babies 
 
 know, 
 
 Are only the mammas who love them so ; 
 Though sometimes a papa can half make out 
 The coo of the babies I 'm singing about. 
 
 A song for the babies God bless them all, 
 So pitiful helpless, so daintily small ; 
 Who only can wonder what all is about, 
 The hurry and bustle, the worry and doubt ; 
 108
 
 A Song for the Babies 
 
 Who only can wonder, and never can know 
 Till dawnlight has faded and morning dews go. 
 The babies, whose laughter sets trouble to 
 
 rout 
 God bless the wee babies I 'm singing about. 
 
 109
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 t 
 
 THE LITTLE BOY WHO SAW SANTA 
 OLAUS 
 
 THE chimney was so narrow, and the 
 chimney was so small, 
 And Santa Glaus had grown so fat 
 through summer and the fall, 
 That when he brought his Christmas pack to 
 
 give the youngsters cheer 
 He just looked at that chimney, and he said : 
 " Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! " 
 110
 
 The Little Boy who saw Santa Glaus 
 
 And little Willie Wiggins, who was listening 
 
 in his bed, 
 Was very sorely troubled for he heard what 
 
 Santa said, 
 Till a pleasant thought came to him, and a 
 
 happy smile he wore 
 As he said : " I guess I '11 'vite him if he won't 
 
 come in the door." 
 
 So little Willie Wiggins, in his little nightdress, 
 
 crept 
 From out the cosy nest in bed where mamma 
 
 thought he slept ; 
 And the little bare feet pattered across the 
 
 frozen floor ; 
 And the little fingers fumbled at the cold lock 
 
 of the door ; 
 And the bolt squeaked out in anger : " I will 
 
 never ope, because 
 Just then the door flew open wide, and there 
 
 stood Santa Claus ! 
 Such a funny, funny fellow, and with such a 
 
 cheery grin, 
 And Willie's heart went pit-a-pat as he said : 
 
 " P'ease come in." 
 Ill
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Then Santa Glaus stepped back and tied his 
 
 reindeer to a post, 
 While Willie stood beside the door and froze 
 
 and froze, almost. 
 
 His face just beamed with laughter as straight 
 way he came back ; 
 And you should have seen the presents in his 
 
 lovely, lovely pack ! 
 And he picked up Willie Wiggins and hid him 
 
 in his coat, 
 And Willie merely said, " My-ee ! " his pleasure 
 
 to denote. 
 He really was so happy that he could n't well 
 
 say more 
 At sight of all the presents Santa spread upon 
 
 the floor. 
 
 Then Santa kissed him gently, and said : " W T hy, 
 bless your heart ! 
 
 It 's getting very, very late ; I fear that I must 
 start, 
 
 For I Ve many, many presents for a million 
 children more, 
 
 Where the chimneys are not narrow, as I ascer 
 tained before." 
 
 Then he hurried through the doorway, and he 
 scampered to his sled ; 
 112
 
 The Little Boy who Saiv Santa Claus 
 
 And Willie beard the sleigh-bells as he pattered 
 
 off to bed, 
 And in his dreams throughout the night he 
 
 wore a smile, because 
 He was the only little boy who e'er saw Santa 
 
 Claus. 
 
 113
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 SHE'S GONE 
 AWAY 
 
 LIKE to take her in my arms ; 
 Like to soothe her as I did, 
 Shielding her from wee alarms, 
 On my loving bosom hid ; 
 Wish that 1 could hear her voice 
 
 Ringing out in baby play, 
 Calling on me to rejoice ; 
 
 But I can't she 's gone away. 
 
 Sorry that sometimes I said, 
 
 " Do go 'way ! You bother me." 
 
 Now there 's quietness instead. 
 And I long to bothered be. 
 114
 
 She 's Gone Away 
 
 Why, I 'd give the best I know 
 Just to hear her romp and play, 
 
 And I 'd let my writing go, 
 
 But I can't she 's gone away. 
 
 There were roses, great an' small, 
 In her hand that day that day ; 
 
 She the sweetest bud of all 
 And she bothered me ! I say ; 
 
 Used to bother me ! when I, 
 
 . ' 
 
 I would give the daylight's grace 
 Just to hear her romping nigh, 
 Making riotous the place. 
 
 House is very quiet now, 
 Very orderly and neat, 
 Toys not lying anyhow, 
 
 Pitfalls for my careless feet ; 
 No one comes to worry me 
 In my work, though 
 
 oft forbid, 
 
 Clam'rous for a thron 
 ing knee, 
 
 But I wish I wish 
 she did. 
 
 115
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 OH, little wee maiden, who sit and sing, 
 Rocking yourself in a rockaby chair, 
 What do the elfins who lazily swing 
 On beams of the sunlight whisper you 
 
 there? 
 What do they whisper, that straight from your 
 
 heart, 
 A smile, creeping upward, illumines your 
 
 eyes? 
 
 What do they weave in their magical art 
 From gossamer strands that they steal from 
 the skies ? 
 
 Dreams of the future, castles that stand 
 In the beautiful world of a far-away land ; 
 Castles of crimson and purple and gold ; 
 Dreams that the wonderful morrows enfold. 
 116
 
 Oh, Little Wee Maiden 
 
 Oh, little wee maiden, the elfins take 
 
 The gold of the sunset, the crimson of skies 
 That blush into sleep ere the morning shall 
 
 wake 
 The world, oh, the world that is weary and 
 
 wise; 
 And the gold and the crimson they build into 
 
 dreams, 
 
 Into castles of splendor your eyes to delight ; 
 And the moonlight or starlight still sparkles 
 
 and gleams 
 
 On jewels God strikes from the bosom of 
 night. 
 
 Sheen of the moonlight on diamonds of dew, 
 All shining bright, little maiden, for you. 
 All of the morrows still reaching away 
 Nothing can bring like the dreams of to-day. 
 
 Oh, little wee maiden, your song sinketh low, 
 
 For the fairies of dreamland are calling, 
 And soon shall my little one drowsily go 
 
 Where the sleeptide is rising and falling ; 
 And the elfins that swing on a tremulous 
 
 beam, 
 
 The last of the day that is dying, 
 117
 
 Lays fo r Little Ch ap s 
 
 Kiss hands to you still in the vanishing gleam. 
 " Good night " and " Good night " they are 
 sighing. 
 
 Elfins will go and the dream fairies stay ; 
 This it is comes at the close of the day. 
 So come to me, little one, e'en as I write ; 
 One sweet kiss, my darling ; one more and 
 good night. 
 
 118
 
 The Poor Little Birdies 
 
 THE POOR LITTLE BIRDIES 
 
 THE poor little birdies that sleep in 
 the trees, 
 Going rockaby, rockaby, lulled by 
 the breeze ; 
 The poor little birdies, they make me feel 
 
 bad, 
 
 Oh, terribly, dreadfully, dismally sad, 
 For think of it, little one; ponder and 
 
 weep 
 
 The birdies must stand when they sleep, when 
 they sleep ; 
 
 And their poor little legs 
 
 I am sure it is so 
 They ache, and they ache, 
 
 For they 're weary, you know. 
 119
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And that is the reason that far in the night 
 You may hear them say, " Dear-r-r ! " if you 
 
 listen just right, 
 For the poor little birdies that sleep on the 
 
 bough 
 Would like to lie down, but they do not know 
 
 how. 
 
 Just think of it, darling ; suppose you must 
 
 stand 
 On your wee brown legs, all so prettily 
 
 planned ; 
 Suppose you must stand when you wanted to 
 
 sleep, 
 I am sure you would call for your mamma and 
 
 weep; 
 And your poor little legs, they would cramp, I 
 
 have guessed, 
 And your poor little knees, they would call for 
 
 a rest ; 
 
 And you 'd cry, I am sure, 
 For so weary you 'd be, 
 
 And you 'd want to lie down, 
 But you could n't, you see ; 
 120
 
 The Poor Little Birdies 
 
 And that is the reason why we should feel 
 
 bad 
 For the poor little birdies, who ought to be 
 
 glad, 
 For they want to lie down as they sleep on the 
 
 bough ; 
 They want to lie down, but they don't know 
 
 how. 
 
 121
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 (JIVE ME 
 
 THE FABLES 
 
 GIVE me the fables, the old folk-lore 
 Of the beautiful, mythical time, 
 When I dreamed that the world was 
 bright before 
 
 And its hills were easy to climb ; 
 When Santa Glaus came I knew that he 
 
 did 
 
 My quota of presents to leave, 
 And his sleigh-bells jingled my dreams amid, 
 On the wonderful Christmas Eve. 
 
 Give me the fables Oh, never a doubt 
 
 Puzzled my sister and me ; 
 We were certain that Santa was roaming with 
 out, 
 
 And we laughed in our infantile glee 
 122
 
 Give Me the Fables 
 
 Till mother came softly, and said : " You must 
 
 sleep, 
 
 For Santa won't come till you do." 
 Oh, that was a statement to make the flesh 
 
 creep, 
 So we tried hard to sleep would n't you ? 
 
 Give me the fables. Don't tell me our bliss 
 
 Was wholly a fanciful thrill, 
 For the morning brought proof of his visit, I 
 wis, 
 
 Though you may dispute if you will. 
 The engine that tooted, the ball that we threw, 
 
 Till it landed the china amid 
 Tf Santa Glaus brought not these gifts to us 
 two, 
 
 Will you please just to mention who did ? 
 
 Give me the fables. Gray phantoms, at best, 
 Are the things that we label as real ; 
 
 Our gold endures not in the ultimate test, 
 And fame is a mocker, we feel. 
 123
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 But the cheer and the joy of the girl and the 
 boy 
 
 Oh, Life, you have taught me this : 
 While others may grasp at your shining alloy, 
 
 I will hold to the fable of bliss. 
 
 124
 
 A Song for the Little Chapss 
 
 A SONG FOR THE LITTLE CHAPS 
 
 HERE is a song for the little chaps, 
 The little wee fellows who don't 
 know why 
 The round world turns ; and I guess, perhaps, 
 
 That neither do you and neither do I. 
 Here is a song for the comical mites, 
 Round and rosy and fat and sleek, 
 Who gaze in amaze on the world's queer sights ; 
 And here is the blessing I cannot speak. 
 
 Here is a song for the ones that gaze 
 
 In queer consternation on finger and toe, 
 And note they are moving in speechless amaze, 
 And wonder who wound them and made the 
 things go. 
 
 125
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 The dear little fellows who deem mother's 
 breast 
 
 Is all of the world, and a good world, too, 
 I am singing to them, while they lie at rest ; 
 
 And really what better is there to do? 
 
 Here is a song for the babes that stand 
 
 Nearer to God than the grown folk do ; 
 Fresh little buds from the Heaven-land 
 
 Who deem that the world is fair and new. 
 Bundles of helplessness, dearer than all 
 
 Yet born of the morning and kissed by its 
 
 dew ; 
 Feeble and wondering, blinking 
 
 and small, 
 
 Babes whom I love, I am sing 
 ing to you. 
 
 126
 
 When EC en Comes 
 
 WHEN EVEN COMES 
 
 WHEN the even comes and the angels 
 light 
 Their lamps in the fields of heaven ; 
 When the wee birds twitter: "Good night, 
 
 good night ; 
 
 It is rest time and nest time 't is even," 
 Oh, then to their mothers the children creep, 
 
 For the poor little bodies are weary ; 
 And they sing them and croon them all soundly 
 
 asleep : 
 " Oh, sleep thee, my dearie, my dearie. 
 
 " Sleep thee, darling, sleep thee well ; 
 Rock upon the Sleep Sea swell, 
 
 Lost each baby sorrow. 
 Rest and peace press down thine eyes ; 
 Angels guard thee from the skies 
 Thou shalt wake to-morrow." 
 127
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 When the even comes and our labor 's done, 
 
 And we 're worn with our life's endeavor ; 
 When faint is the light of our setting sun, 
 
 And our hands are enfolded forever, 
 Oh, then to our Father we children creep, 
 
 For our hearts are so weary, so weary, 
 And we hear His low voice through the life- 
 giving sleep : 
 
 " Oh, rest thee, my dearie, my dearie. 
 
 " Rest thee, darling, rest thee well ; 
 Here do love and blessing dwell, 
 Lost each childish sorrow. 
 
 Lo, I hold thee to 
 
 my breast ; 
 Rest thee, dear 
 one, sweetly 
 rest 
 
 Here is Life's 
 to-morrow." 
 
 128
 
 At the Bottom of the Sea 
 
 AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA 
 
 DO you think you 'd like to be at the 
 bottom of the sea, 
 With the pollyhinkus swinging all 
 around, 
 And the gogglers, with their eyes big as 
 
 mamma's custard pies, 
 And the winkus that goes crawling on the 
 ground, 
 
 And the spry, 
 (Oh, my eye !) 
 The spry, spry, spry, 
 
 The very, very, very, very, spry springaree 
 That slides through the glare of the water 
 
 everywhere 
 On the shifting, lifting bottom of the deep 
 
 blue sea? 
 9 129
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 At the bottom of the sea there is strangest 
 
 mystery, 
 For the queen of all the sprites is living 
 
 there, 
 With amber beads for eyes, and she lives on 
 
 oyster fries, 
 
 And she hates to hear the wicked sailors 
 swear ; 
 
 And her hair, 
 It is fair ; 
 
 It is fair, fair, fair ; 
 It is very, very, very, very, very bright and 
 
 fair ; 
 And the fishes swim about through her 
 
 palace in and out, 
 
 Through the shifting, lifting water that is 
 everywhere. 
 
 But I want to tell you, dear, and I hope that 
 
 you will hear, 
 That really it is better to be living on the 
 
 ground, 
 Where the sights are not so queer, but the 
 
 atmosphere is clear, 
 
 And in order to enjoy it 't is n't needful to 
 be drowned ; 
 
 130
 
 For you know 
 (It is so, 
 
 And you should know, know) 
 It is really, really chilly where the dim depths 
 
 be ; 
 And it 's surely very tough, yes, it certainly 
 
 is rough, 
 
 For you can't breathe a little in the deep blue 
 sea. 
 
 131
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 DOROTHY'S the baby; she's but a 
 tiny tot, 
 But, oh, she knows so many things 
 that I have long forgot. 
 She knows the thrill of laughter ; she knows 
 
 its music, too, 
 
 And when her cheery voice rings out I listen 
 would n't you? 
 
 I listen, half-way smiling, and then it seems to 
 
 me 
 She knows just what the heaven is, and I 've 
 
 forgot, you see. 
 But one thing she knows better, e'en better 
 
 than the rest ; 
 She knows ah, well she knows it that her 
 
 mother loves her best. 
 132
 
 Dorothy's Wisdom 
 
 I write it half in envy, for she is dear to me, 
 And so I show her pictures as she sits upon my 
 
 knee ; 
 And I try to tell their stories in the words at 
 
 my command. 
 While she offers sage suggestions that I cannot 
 
 understand. 
 I listen to her chatter just to learn what she 
 
 may tell ; 
 I lay my siege unto her heart and think I 'in 
 
 doing well, 
 And, even as I think it, she leaves her throne 
 
 of rest 
 And toddles to her mother, the one that loves 
 
 her best. 
 
 Oh, Dorothy, my baby, I think perhaps you're 
 
 right : 
 There is no love like mother-love this side the 
 
 land of light. 
 Though scanty be your knowledge of the path 
 
 that you must tread 
 And though it be but baby lore that fills your 
 
 little head, 
 Your wisdom is the highest when you seek your 
 
 mother still 
 
 133
 
 Lay s for Little Ch ap s 
 
 And deem her safest refuge from your every 
 
 baby ill. 
 I know that you are sagely right, yet grant my 
 
 one request : 
 If mother-love be best of love, please count 
 
 mine second best. 
 
 134
 
 The Teacher Knows 
 
 THE TEACHER KNOWS 
 
 ONE time my teacher said, says she : 
 " It 's no use talkin' ; seems to me 
 That you 're the worse boy that I 've 
 got; 
 
 You 're worser than the rest, a lot. 
 I 've whipped you, an' I Ve scolded, too ; 
 Don't make no difference what I do, 
 You keep right on jus' zif I 'd not. 
 Ain't you the worst boy that I've got? " 
 135
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 An' then my teacher said, says she : 
 " Your case is always puzzlin' me. 
 Now don't you know it hurts me, too, 
 When scoldin' or a-whippin' you ? 
 
 I always want you to be good 
 An' actin' like a nice boy should, 
 Because I love you." - Then she sighed, 
 An' I I well, T up an' cried. 
 
 Since then my teacher 's gone away, 
 An' I don't go to school an' play, 
 An' study some, 's I used to do 
 Before my schoolin' days was through. 
 13G
 
 But still my Teacher says, says He : 
 " I 'in teacliin' you as seems to me 
 Is best ; with sorrow's sting an' blow 
 I 'in teachin' you the way to go." 
 
 An' then my Teacher says, says He : 
 " If only you '11 look up to me 
 Through eyes bedimmed with trouble's rain, 
 You '11 learn the lesson hid in pain, 
 An' know, though cruel seems the blow, 
 'T was dealt because I love you so." 
 An,' though I'm weary an' oppressed, 
 I guess mv Teacher knows the best. 
 
 137
 
 Lay s for Little Ch ap s 
 
 J 
 
 OH, swimming is n't what it was ; 
 The times have changed since when 
 I used to swim six times a day, 
 And then go in again. 
 I did n't need a bathing suit 
 In those old days of glee ; 
 The bathing suit that nature gave 
 Was good enough for me. 
 138
 
 Swimming Isn't What It Was 
 
 And if one didn't like the buff, 
 
 Why, this thing can be said : 
 The sun was always good enough 
 
 To partly paint it red. 
 The boys don't duck me as they did 
 
 When I was three feet high, 
 Nor dive beneath and pinch my legs 
 
 Will some one tell me why ? 
 
 No more when I a swim have had 
 
 My mother says to me, 
 " You 've been in swimming, you bad boy ; 
 
 Your hair is wet, I see." 
 And I don't tell her as I did, 
 
 With heart inclined to thump, 
 " No, ma'am, I have n't swimmed at all ; 
 
 I wet it at the pump." 
 
 Ah, times have changed ; the stingful switch 
 
 No more is on my hide, 
 As when my mother ascertained 
 
 Her youthful son had lied. 
 She used to say : " You 've been exposed 
 
 To sickness all untold, 
 And this, I think, my little boy, 
 
 Will drive away a cold." 
 139
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And then she warmed me ! I recall 
 
 That scene through vistas dim. 
 She made it lively for a time ; 
 
 But, then : I had my swim ! 
 Oh, golden days of long ago, 
 
 Come back, come back again, 
 For swimming is n't what it was ; 
 
 The times have changed since then. 
 
 140
 
 My First Autograpli 
 
 
 MY FIRST AUTOGRAPH 
 
 OH, don't I remember I guess that I 
 do!- 
 When you asked me to write in your 
 book? 
 The moon of December was piercing the blue, 
 
 And the eyes of the stars seemed to look, 
 As you stood in the shadow. Heigho ! but the 
 
 world 
 
 Has gone whirling and whirling since then ; 
 But that was the night when the grass was 
 
 impearled 
 By the dewdrops asleep in the glen. 
 
 Oh, don't I remember I certainly do ! 
 How I puzzled one-third of a night, 
 
 Till the last dying ember had fallen in two, 
 To make up my mind what to write ? 
 141
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 Then I wrote ('t was n't new) : " The ro&e it is 
 
 red, 
 
 And the meek little violet 's blue, 
 And the pink, it is sweet, " it was thus that I 
 
 said 
 " But not half so sweet as are you." 
 
 Oh, don't I remember be sure that I do ! 
 
 The staggering couplet I wrote ? 
 I could n't have claimed for a moment 't was 
 
 new 
 
 'T was my mother who told me to quote. 
 But one thing I '11 say, as I look through the 
 
 glow 
 
 Of the dawn, little maiden, to you : 
 Though I well might have written more sagely, 
 
 I know, 
 I could n't have written more true. 
 
 142
 
 My Little Valentine 
 
 MY LITTLE VALENTINE 
 
 IF 1 could write a valentine 
 To please a little love of mine ; 
 If I could catch some knack of metre 
 To make her deem the music sweeter 
 Than song of birds, 
 
 The drone of bees, 
 The loo of herds, 
 
 The whisp'ring breeze. 
 Why, I would write this valentine 
 To please a little love of mine. 
 
 If I could write a valentine 
 All worthy of this love of mine, 
 Its tinkling words must sweetly beat 
 To rhythm of her tripping feet ; 
 143
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 And it must reach 
 The perfect key 
 Of baby speech 
 
 That gladdens me ; 
 But, as such art were never mine, 
 I kiss, instead, my valentine. 
 
 144
 
 Hushaby, Lullaby 
 
 HUSHABY, LULLABY 
 
 HUSHABY, lullaby, my little men ; 
 The Sandman conies, but he goes 
 again. 
 
 Hushaby, lullaby, wee little maids ; 
 The round world turns and it seeks the shades, 
 And Sleep comes stealing adown, adovvn, 
 And closes the eyes of blue or brown, 
 And he weaves his net and it holds you 
 
 thrall - 
 Hushaby, lullaby, little ones all. 
 
 Hushaby, lullaby. One little star 
 
 Is peeping adown from afar, so far 
 
 That its great white light is a slender beam 
 
 When it reaches the world where the babies 
 
 dream ; 
 10 145
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 A slender beam that can only kiss 
 The wee little heads for it came for this 
 Ere it dies away in a glimmer small 
 Hushaby, lullaby, little ones all. 
 
 Hushaby, lullaby. Life is a maze 
 
 Where blindly we wander through wearisome 
 
 days, 
 Through wearisome days when the spirit is 
 
 numb, 
 
 Till out of the shadows the little ones come ; 
 Then mothers stoop to them to kiss and caress, 
 And the souls of the fathers they gladden and 
 
 bless ; 
 For straight from the heavens God's angels 
 
 they call 
 Hushaby, lullaby, little ones all. 
 
 146
 
 When Baby Bloweth Kisses 
 
 WHEN BABY BLOWETH KISSES 
 
 WHEN baby bloweth kisses 
 From fingers pink and wee, 
 Like some sweet rain of blisses 
 To cheer my heart and me, 
 I care not then how utter 
 
 Or stern the day's demands, 
 While I watch the flutter, flutter 
 Of the waving little hands. 
 147
 
 Lays for Little Chaps 
 
 When baby bloweth kisses 
 
 To me, upon the street, 
 She sometimes says : " Now zis is 
 
 A kiss 'at 's vewy sweet : " 
 And I tell her ere I leave her 
 
 'T was better than the rest, 
 And, faith ! I don't deceive her, 
 
 For each of them is best. 
 
 When baby bloweth kisses, 
 
 The bees that seek their store 
 In blossoms' pink abysses, 
 
 Might turn to her for more ; 
 And, oh, her laughter ringeth 
 
 Like some sweet fairy bell ; 
 And, oh, my old heart singeth 
 
 A song no words may tell. 
 
 When baby bloweth kisses 
 Ye men whose years increase, 
 
 While life the pathway 
 
 misses 
 To summer lands of 
 
 peace, 
 
 Now tell me if there lingers 
 Elsewhere a single bliss 
 To match the little fingers 
 That waft to you a kiss. 
 148
 
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