I Would Not Be A Boy AgainI would not be a boy again, Upon my mother's knee, When her old slipper fell like rain On parts I could not see Nor was it any easy thing To face a father's wrath, And hear a switch in high C sing Out by the garden path. I would not be a boy again, And eating apples green And groan all night with might and main, With aches about the spleen; The bitter potions, nauseous pills I was compelled to take With sickening taste my mouth still fills, When from youth's dreams I wake. I would not be a boy again, And told to stop my noise To listen, not be heard, 'twas plain, Was just the thing for boys. A big drum major I would be, With flashy uniform, In the front rank where all could see While ladies round me swarm. I would not be a boy again, And pulled for little steals, Which gave my conscience much less pain Than bruises on my heels. I much prefer to be a man And make my hoard of wealth Upon the Rockefeller plan By legal ways of stealth. I would not be a boy again, No, no, my friend, not I. I dreamed of castles once In Spain The dream turned out a lie. I've had my surfeit long ago, Of all such things as these Now I am in the bald-head row And want to take my ease. __J. M. Cavaness. |
Jayhawker Juleps
J. M. Cavaness
(Chanute: Tribune Pub. Co. 1913)
Page 33
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