“Don’t growl if you can’t have it all, boy,
Take what you can get—that’s the way!”
There were days in the spring during planting,
When I couldn’t go over the hill,
With my books and slate strapped on my shoulder,
To the little red school by the mill.
“Never mind,” father said, at my pouting,
“If you do have to stay home, my lad,
There are weeks of the term yet before you,
Take what you can get and be glad!”