No—they moved with stately grace,
Everything in proper place;
Gliding slowly forward, then
Slowly courtesying back again,
Long ago.
Modern ways are quite alarming,
Grandma says; but boys were charming—
Girls and boys, I mean, of course—
Long ago.
Bravely modest, grandly shy—
Now she sits there rocking, rocking,
Always knitting grandpa’s stocking,
Every girl was taught to knit,
Long ago.
Yet her figure is so neat,
And her smile so staid and sweet,
I can almost see her now
Bending to her partner’s bow,
Long ago.
Grandma says our modern jumping,
Hopping, rushing, whirling, bumping
Would have shocked the gentlefolk,
Long ago.
What if all of us should try
Just to feel like those who met
In the graceful minuet,
Long ago?
With the minuet in fashion,
Who could fly into a passion?
All would wear the calm they wore,
Long ago.
In time to come, if I perchance
Should tell my grandchild of our dance
I should really like to say:
“We did, dear, in some such way,
Long ago.”
AUNT JAN
BY NORMAN GALE
When Aunt Jan’s coming there’s such romping in the house,
She’s sweeter than a daffodil and softer than a mouse!
She sings about the passages, and never wants to rest,
And father says it’s all because a bird is in her breast.
When Aunt Jan’s kissing there’s such a crowding round her knees,
Such clambers to her bosom, and such battles for a squeeze!
We dirty both her snowy cuffs, we trample on her gown,
And sometimes all her yellow hair comes tumbling, tumbling down.