LEARNING TO SWIM.
BY EDGAR FAWCETT.
HERE I am, papa,
In my new tights dressed,
Crazy for a bath,
It must be confessed.
Shall we go straight in?
Oo! the water’s cold!
Let me take your hand,
Nice and large to hold.
I’m a big boy, now,
Tall and strong of limb.
Eight years old to-day,
Yet I cannot swim!
Teach me, please, papa;
Keep my chin up ... so!
Not a bit of use—
Down I’m sure to go!
Don’t I kick out right
While my arms are spread?
O, I really think
That I’m made of lead!
Floundering here, I feel
Like so sad a dunce!
It’s as though you tried
Twenty things at once!
While you make your strokes
Regular and neat,
You must also tend
To your legs and feet!
I don’t even float
As well as some old log!
O, how can you swim
Unless you’re born a frog!