To bid me good-bye and be kissed.
Oh, the little, white arms that encircle
My neck in a tender embrace!
Oh, the smiles that are halos of Heaven
Shedding light in a desolate place!
Has it ever occurred to you, my friend, that the baby is the same unchanged, unimproved article since the world began? Men are making smokeless powder, constructing pneumatic bicycle tires, inventing long-distance guns, training horses down to two minutes, getting sprinters to cover 100 yards close to nine seconds—revolutionizing everything, but leaving the baby the old-time brand!
People seem satisfied with the original make, and far from any movement to abolish it as out of date. The sentiment would appear to be pretty universal:
Drear were the world without a child,
Where happy infant never smiled.
We sooner could the flowerets spare,