The Path to Home

by Edgar A. Guest

She calls Pa at the office an' he laughs I guess, for then
She always mumbles something 'bout the heartlessness of men.
She calls to mind a peddler who came to the kitchen door,
An' she's certain from his whiskers an' the shabby clothes he wore
An' his dirty shirt an' collar that he must have been a crook,
An' she's positive that feller came and got her pocketbook.

But at last she allus finds it in some queer an' funny spot,
Where she'd put it in a hurry, an' had somehow clean forgot;
An' she heaves a sigh of gladness, an' she says, "Well, I declare,
I would take an oath this minute that I never put it there."
An' we're peaceable an' quiet till next time Ma goes to look
An' finds she can't remember where she put her pocketbook.

The Doctor

I don't see why Pa likes him so,
And seems so glad to have him come;
He jabs my ribs and wants to know
If here and there it's hurting some.
He holds my wrist, coz there are things
In there, which always jump and jerk,
Then, with a telephone he brings,
He listens to my breather work.

He taps my back and pinches me,
Then hangs a mirror on his head
And looks into my throat to see
What makes it hurt and if it's red.
Then on his knee he starts to write
And says to mother, with a smile:
"This ought to fix him up all right,
We'll cure him in a little while."

I don't see why Pa likes him so.
Whenever I don't want to play
He says: "The boy is sick, I know!
Let's get the doctor right away."
And when he comes, he shakes his hand,
And hustles him upstairs to me,
And seems contented just to stand
Inside the room where he can see.

Then Pa says every time he goes:
"That's money I am glad to pay;
It's worth it, when a fellow knows
His pal will soon be up to play."
But maybe if my Pa were me,
And had to take his pills and all,
He wouldn't be so glad to see
The doctor come to make a call.

Lines For a Flag Raising Ceremony

Full many a flag the breeze has kissed;
Through ages long the morning sun
Has risen o'er the early mist
The flags of men to look upon.
And some were red against the sky,
And some with colors true were gay,
And some in shame were born to die,
For Flags of hate must pass away.
Such symbols fall as men depart,
Brief is the reign of arrant might;
The vicious and the vile at heart
Give way in time before the right.