"That knife must not be used on string, or bread or boards or anything—
Hands off my carving blade," he'd cry, and yet I grieve to say,
In spite of all his warnings grim, the women paid no heed to him,
They used his sacred carving knife a dozen times a day.
They'd use that knife for cutting soap, old carpets, leather belts and rope,
They'd use it too, for pulling tacks and leave it dulled and nicked,
And every time a meal began, my father was an angry man,
But vain was every oath he swore and every kick he kicked.
Now like my good old dad I stand, and take the carving knife in hand
And run my thumb along its edge and find it dulled and nicked,
And like my good old dad I vow some day there'll be a healthy row,
But I'm as unsuccessful as my father when he kicked.
The maid, the youngsters and the wife still take that sacred carving knife
And use it as a handy tool on wood or lead or stone;
In spite of all I do or say, the blade is dulled from day to day,
I cannot get the women folks to leave that knife alone!
Take a Boy Along With You
Take a boy along with you
And you'll learn before you're through
That this world is full of wonders
You'd forgotten all about;
Song birds nesting in a tree
That you pass and never see,
Strange and curious mysteries
The lad keeps pointing out.
He will question how and why,
With his bright and eager eye
He'll discover curious sights
All along the way;
He'll show novelties to you
Which were hidden from your view,
And will fill with ecstasy
Just a common day.
What to you is dull and old,
He will wonderingly behold,
Marvelous your dreary world
Will appear to him;
And at every bend and turn
From that youngster you will learn
Just how much a man may miss
When his eyes grow dim.
Who should say the world is bare,
Commonplace and filled with care?
Tired age may utter this,
Blinded to its joy;
Sage and cynic, grown severe,
May have lost the magic here,
But the world is glorious
To a little boy.
If you fancy life is just
Bearing burdens, as you must,
City streets and buildings tall
And the moving throng,
If you've lost the power to see
Splendors as they used to be,
Some day when you're starting out
Take a boy along.