Eugene Field, a Study in Heredity and Contradictions — Volume 2

LITTLE BOY BLUE
The little toy dog is covered with dust But sturdy and stanch he stands, And the little toy soldier is red with rust And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new And the soldier was passing fair, And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there.
Now, don't you go till I come, he said, And don't you make any noise! So, toddling off to his trundle-bed, He dreamt of the pretty toys. And, as he was dreaming, an angel song Awakened our Little Boy Blue— Oh! the years are many—the years are long— But the little toy friends are true!
Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand— Each in the same old place, Awaiting the touch of a little hand, The smile of a little face. And they wonder—as waiting the long years through In the dust of that little chair— What has become of our Little Boy Blue Since he kissed them and put them there.

CHAPTER I
OUR PERSONAL RELATIONS
In the loving Memory which his brother Roswell contributed to the Sabine Edition of Eugene Field's Little Book of Western Verse, he says: Comradeship was the indispensable factor in my brother's life. It was strong in his youth: it grew to be an imperative necessity in later life. In the theory that it is sometimes good to be alone he had little or no faith. From the time of Eugene's coming to Chicago until my marriage, in 1887, I was his closest comrade and almost constant companion. At the Daily News office, for a time, we shared the same room and then the adjoining rooms of which I have spoken. Field was known about the office as my habit, a relationship which gave point to the touching appeal which served as introduction to the dearly cherished manuscript copy, in two volumes, of nearly one hundred of his poems, which was his wedding gift to Mrs. Thompson. It was entitled, in red ink, Ye Piteous Complaynt of a Forsooken Habbit; a Proper Sonet, and reads:
Ye boone y aske is smalle indeede