THE STORY OF TWO FORGOTTEN KISSES.
BY KITTY CLOVER.
WHEN little Dimple Dumpling, one chill fall evening,
Was tucked up, all in white, within his downy bed,
His mamma quite forgot to come and kiss him,
And in the morning, too, forgot to come, ’tis said:—
Of course ’tis strange that two forgotten kisses
Should make such mischief in the house in just one night;
But when Boy Dumpling woke up in the morning,
His lips, they say, had lost their sweet, his eyes their bright,
And he, who’d always been a darling,
He fell at once with nurse to quarreling.
He would not wear his scarlet frock,
Although the morn was chill and frosty;
And off he kicked his sky-blue sock,
Till nurse called him “Mister Crosstie,”
And, all at once, giving a dreadful groan,
She left cross Dimple Dumpling all alone.
But when the sounds of silver spoons and bowls
Came up and jingled round in Dimple’s chamber,
And in stole savory sniffs of steaks and rolls,
Quick from his chair did Dimple clamber;
And as he knew that little leggies bare
Were not received at mamma’s breakfast table,
He thought he’d better oil and ’fume his hair
And button on his frock himself if able,—
The scarlet frock,—
The sky-blue sock,—
He was in it
In a minute!
But down stairs Dimple hourly grew more cross,
And o’er the house with awful noise went rushing,
Till all his folks stood up, quite at a loss
To hit upon some brand-new means of hushing.
But on his friends the ogre frowned,
And in the desks and drawers went prowling,
Until a fierce jack-knife was found
That just exactly matched his scowling.—
Then Dimple opened every blade,
And went right at his dearest treasures,
And hacked, till every toy was made
The victim of his savage measures.
Next Dimple growled aloud he’d “keep a school;”
So up hopped Minnie, merry as a linnet,
And offered picture-book and painted rule—
But “no,” he shrieked, “he wouldn’t have her in it!”
He seized her wooden dolls that couldn’t smile.—for O,
O, how he hated smiles, grim Dimple Dumpling!
And all the time they sat there in that wooden row
His yellow head against the wall was crumpling,—
It must have been so sore,—but there he sat, like stone,
And kicked the floor till mamma cried, “O, this is
Very bad!”—but, ah, if mamma’d only known
Her little boy was bad for lack of kisses!
Well, all at once, the silver sun shone out,
And Minnie played she’d never heard those speeches,
But led cross Dimple out, with skip and shout,
Down where the wind had blown the rareripe peaches.
Just one single Red-Cheek lay on the grass,
And O, how Dimple pushed and rushed to get it,
Though Minnie stepped aside to let him pass;
And, then, away he ran to stand and eat it.—
O, Dimple Dumpling! O, such a bad little man,
All for two kisses! I wonder if this can
The reason be that so many a little brother
Goes wrong his life long,—for lack of kisses and mother!
How do I know but a terrible hunger
Gnaws at the hearts of motherless boys?
How do I know but ’tis that that destroys
All that is good, until boys that are younger
Than you, Boy Dumpling, make the streets sorrowful places,
And the angels weep at the look on the wee, wee faces?
But off ran selfish Dimple through the pink peach trees,—
“I’s goin’ by myse’f into the meadow,”
He screamed,—instead, he fell upon his chubby knees
And tumbled over in the brambly shadow.
Then loud did Dimple shriek, “Minnie! hornets and bees!”
He rolled, he struck before, and struck behind him,
While little Minnie flew along the pink peach trees,—
“O, dear Dimple! Dimple darling!”—to find him.
Ah, well, perhaps the hornets like a naughty fellow!
For there they rested on his round and rosy cheeks,
And there they clung upon his hair so soft and yellow,—
No wonder that the tender little sister shrieks!
And when they heard her not a hornet missed her;
They stung her blind just ’cause she was his sister!—
Poor little sister, poor little brother,
One ran one way, and one the other!
All day long was dear little Dimple lost,
And all the house was out and calling, “Dimple! Dimple!”
Till just at dark a dingle dim was crossed,
And there, asleep, down in the grass, all sweet and simple,
And like a lily, Dimple was; and mamma, in her joy,
Kissed and kissed him, and he woke up Her Own Good Boy.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.
Perceived typographical errors have been changed.