The little god, child verse for grown-ups . GROWING UP The wind was playing with my matches to a daffodil.—And mother kissed me sort of still,And said to Daddy, Fair—how fair!The little god. I didnt see him when I looked— he wasnt sun was shining and the day was didnt see him; I looked everywhere. To-morrow I am going to school,And mothers going to bob my be a grown-up.—I cant cry,But mother does.—I wonder why. THE SCALAWAG Ive been to school a week to-day,And every day Ive run away,—But its no use. Its no use trying to be free,—Theyve gone and stuck me to a t

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The little god, child verse for grown-ups . GROWING UP The wind was playing with my matches to a daffodil.—And mother kissed me sort of still,And said to Daddy, Fair—how fair!The little god. I didnt see him when I looked— he wasnt sun was shining and the day was didnt see him; I looked everywhere. To-morrow I am going to school,And mothers going to bob my be a grown-up.—I cant cry,But mother does.—I wonder why. THE SCALAWAG Ive been to school a week to-day,And every day Ive run away,—But its no use. Its no use trying to be free,—Theyve gone and stuck me to a tagIts

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublisherbosto, bookyear1916