CHUMS
We're chums, and we love it—-dear father and I!
He's tall and grown-up, of course—ever so high!
But you don't mind that, though you're little as me;
He always stoops down, or you sit on his knee
When you're chums.
We go for long walks—he says, "Now for a hike!"—
With beautiful talks about things that I like;
Some folks do not care about beetles and toads
And little green snakes that you find in the roads,
But we're chums.
Sometimes mother gets into trouble with me;
She tells him about it, and he says, "I see!"
His arm gets around me, and pretty soon, then,
I'm telling him I'll never do it again,
'Cause we're chums.
We tell all our secrets, and when things go bad
And worry-lines come in his face, I look glad
And get him a-laughing, and smooth them away.
He says, "Little Partner, it's your turn today!"
So we're chums.