An’ ’en he plays wild Indian an’ hides himself somewheres
W’ile we look in th’ corners an’ behind th’ parlor chairs,
An’ peek in th’ dark closets an’ p’tend we’re on a scout
Till after w’ile he makes a whoop an’ ’en comes rushin’ out
’Ist like he’s on th’ warpath; an’ us chinnern run upstairs
An’ hide in Mamma’s closet an’ he makes us think ’at bears
Are comin’ in to get us an’ he growls ’ist like he’s one,
An’ my! we’re turble scairt an’ yet it’s awful lots o’ fun.
An’ ’en he is a pirate an’ he makes us chinnern play
At we are in a shipwreck an’ th’ crew is cast away
Upon a desert island w’ere his treasure chest is hid,
An’ we are only sailors an’ his name is Captain Kidd.
An’ w’en we hear him comin’ he ’ist roars an’ ’en we run,
’Cuz he has broomsticks for a sword an’ pokers for a gun,
An’ after w’ile he kills us all but it don’t hurt, an’ w’en
He sails away in his big ship we come to life again.
’En after w’ile our Mother comes an’ taps him on th’ head,
An’ says it’s time for bears an’ scouts an’ things to be in bed,
An’ leads us chinnern all upstairs an’ maybe if we keep
Right still she’ll let th’ candle burn until we go to sleep.
’En after w’ile our Uncle Bill comes up to say good-night,
An’ see how snug an’ warm we are an’ all tucked in so tight,
An’ ’en he kisses us good-night an’ ’en his eyes ’ist blur:
I guess we make him sorry ’at he is a bachelur!
HOW HENRY BLAKE KNOWS
DON’T you dast kill a toad, Henry Blake says, for true
As your’re born it’ll rain right away if you do.
For Henry Blake says oncet some boys ’at he knowed
Were goin’ a-fishin’ an’ one killed a toad,
An’ it all clouded up an’ it got just as black,
An’ it thundered an’ lightninged before they got back
Till they were awful scairt. He says he dunno why,
But he thinks toads has somethin’ t’ do with the sky.
An’ Henry Blake showed
Us th’ place in th’ road
Where the boys went an’ kilt him an’ that’s how he knowed.
Henry Blake says if you just split a bean
An’ put half of it on a wart when it’s green,
An’ throw half of it between midnight an’ dawn
In a cistern somewhere, why, your wart’ll be gone
Just as soon as it rots. Henry Blake says it’s true
’Cuz a friend of his showed him a bean cut in two
That took off a big wart, an’ th’ half was all black
An’ Henry Blake says that it never came back.
An’ Henry’s friend showed
Him th’ cistern he throwed
The other half into an’ that’s how he knowed!
THE LAND OF BLOW BUBBLES
HIS curls are like rings of red gold on his head,
His lips are as red as a cherry,
His cheeks are as round as an apple, and red,
His eyes full of mischief and merry.
His heart is as pure as a snowflake in air,
A fig for the whole of his troubles!
For he’s my Boy Careless—you’ve seen him somewhere,
And he lives in the land of Blow Bubbles!
Now he’s riding a stick that is legless and dead,
Through the lanes and across the sere stubbles,
For a stick is a horse with four legs and a head
In that magic boy land of Blow Bubbles!
He bears at his side a sword cut from a lath,
With a big wooden gun on his shoulder,
And woe to the wild beast that crosses his path
For never a huntsman was bolder.
Now down from his steed leaps Boy Careless in haste,
He drops on one knee in the stubbles,
For stubbles are woods full of wild beasts, all chased
To their death by the boys in Blow Bubbles!
His musket he brings to his shoulder and shoots,
The sound of it echoes and doubles,
For a make-believe gun kills the make-believe brutes
In that magic boy land of Blow Bubbles.