ALL sifted with sugar and out of the pan,
The good-natured face of the Gingercake man.
But alas and alas! ’Tis a short life and sweet
Is the Gingercake man’s—for they ate off his feet,
They broke off his arms with the hungriest zest,
And picked all the buttons from out of his vest;
They nibbled his legs off and ate up his hat,
And everything edible went just like that,
Till the cloves and the kernels of rice you may scan
As all that is left of the Gingercake man!
LONESOME
SAY, little boy, be friends with me and I’ll be friends with you;
And I won’t never tell on you, no matter what you do.
It’s awful lonesome over here and, goodness, but it’s hard
To have your mother say that you must play in your back yard.
There’s lots of daisies where I am, and butterflies as bright
As anything you ever saw, and I just saw one light;
Perhaps you’d catch it in your cap if I would help you to—
Come over and be friends with me and I’ll be friends with you.
I’m all the children we have got—I’m lonesome as can be,
I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to come and play with me.
I don’t care if your face ain’t clean or if your clothes are torn,
I didn’t have no clothes at all the time that I was born.
We got ripe apples on our trees and I will boost you so
That you can get some if you come, and when it’s time to go
We’ll fill your cap and pockets full to take home. Don’t you see
I’m willing to be friends with you if you’ll be friends with me?
I’ve got a lot of wooden toys, as fine as they can be,
But I want something that’s alive to run around with me,
And play wild Indians and bears, and if you’ll come and play
Perhaps my Mamma ’ll let me come and play with you some day.
We’ve got some dandy hollow trees, the finest anywheres,
And one of us can hide in them when we are playing bears,
And growl just like he’s awful cross, and all the time you know
It’s only make-believe, of course, but then it scares you so.
I wish you’d come and play with me. I’ve got a jumping-jack
I’ll give you for your very own to keep when you go back,
And you can ride my v’locipede most all the afternoon
And blow some bubbles with my pipe and play with my balloon.
I’ve got an awful lot of toys and I will let you play
That they are yours as much as mine for all the time you stay,
I’m all the boys my folks have got. I’m lonesome as can be,
Come on, and I’ll be friends with you if you’ll be friends with me.
THE GARDEN OF PLAY
OUT in the Garden of Childhood gay
Romp three glad youngsters with merry cries,
Startling the birds with their boisterous play,
Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes.
Ever you see them and hear them there,
Morning or evening or blossomy noon,
And oh, but the Garden of Youth is fair,
And oh, but the years of it pass too soon!
Over the Garden arch cloudless skies,
(Ah, but the skies of all Youth are blue!)
Lightheart and Laughter and big Brighteyes
Find in each nook something rare and new.
Cool is the shade of the coaxing trees,
Bidding them hide from the sun at noon,
And oh, but what glorious days are these,
And oh, but the hours of them pass too soon!