"H'it was just a bit unpleasant, when the shells were droppin' thick,"
And he tapped his leather leggins with his little bamboo stick.
"What did H'I do? Nothing, really! Nothing more than just my share;
Some one h'else would gladly do it, but H'I 'appened to be there."
When this sturdy British Tommy quits the battlefields of earth
And St. Peter asks his spirit to recount his deeds of worth,
I fancy I can hear him, with his curious English drawl,
Saying: "Nothing, nothing really, that's worth mentioning at h'all."
The Right Family
With time our notions allus change,
An' years make old idees seem strange—
Take Mary there—time was when she
Thought one child made a family,
An' when our eldest, Jim, was born
She used to say, both night an' morn':
"One little one to love an' keep,
To guard awake, an' watch asleep;
To bring up right an' lead him through
Life's path is all we ought to do."
Two years from then our Jennie came,
But Mary didn't talk the same;
"Now that's just right," she said to me,
"We've got the proper family—
A boy an' girl, God sure is good;
It seems as though He understood
That I've been hopin' every way
To have a little girl some day;
Sometimes I've prayed the whole night through—
One ain't enough; we needed two."
Then as the months went rollin' on,
One day the stork brought little John,
An' Mary smiled an' said to me;
"The proper family is three;
Two boys, a girl to romp an' play—
Jus' work enough to fill the day.
I never had enough to do,
The months that we had only two;
Three's jus' right, pa, we don't want more."
Still time went on an' we had four.
An' that was years ago, I vow,
An' we have six fine children now;
An' Mary's plumb forgot the day
She used to sit an' sweetly say
That one child was enough for her
To love an' give the proper care;
One, two or three or four or five—
Why, goodness gracious, sakes alive,
If God should send her ten to-night,
She'd vow her fam'ly was jus' right!