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- Love-Songs of Childhood - 5/10 -

An Injun chief of monstrous size Got Kendall Evans down, And Robbie James was soon o'erthrown By one of great renown.

And Dady Field was sorely done, And Willie Clow was hurt, And all that gallant cow-boy band Lay wallowing in the dirt.

But still they strove with might and main Till all the Waller Lot Was strewn with hair and gouts of gore - All, all for Sissy Knott!

Then cried the maiden in despair: "Alas, I sadly fear The battle and my hopes are lost, Unless some help appear!"

Lo, as she spoke, she saw afar The rescuer looming up - The pride of all Buena Park, Clow's famous yellow pup!

"Now, sick'em, Don," the maiden cried, "Now, sick'em, Don!" cried she; Obedient Don at once complied - As ordered, so did he.

He sicked'em all so passing well That, overcome by fright, The Indian horde gave up the fray And safety sought in flight.

They ran and ran and ran and ran O'er valley, plain, and hill; And if they are not walking now, Why, then, they're running still.

The cow-boys rose up from the dust With faces black and blue; "Remember, beauteous maid," said they, "We've bled and died for you!"

"And though we suffer grievously, We gladly hail the lot That brings us toils and pains and wounds For charming Sissy Knott!"

But Sissy Knott still wailed and wept, And still her fate reviled; For who could patch her dolly up - Who, who could mend her child?

Then out her doting mother came, And soothed her daughter then; "Grieve not, my darling, I will sew Your dolly up again!"

Joy soon succeeded unto grief, And tears were soon dried up, And dignities were heaped upon Clow's noble yellow pup.

Him all that goodly company Did as deliverer hail - They tied a ribbon round his neck, Another round his tail.

And every anniversary day Upon the Waller Lot They celebrate the victory won For charming Sissy Knott.

And I, the poet of these folk, Am ordered to compile This truly famous history In good old ballad style.

Which having done as to have earned The sweet rewards of fame, In what same style I did begin I now shall end the same.

So let us sing: Long live the King, Long live the Queen and Jack, Long live the ten-spot and the ace, And also all the pack.


Last night the Stork came stalking, And, Stork, beneath your wing Lay, lapped in dreamless slumber, The tiniest little thing! From Babyland, out yonder Beside a silver sea, You brought a priceless treasure As gift to mine and me!

Last night my dear one listened - And, wife, you knew the cry - The dear old Stork has sought our home A many times gone by! And in your gentle bosom I found the pretty thing That from the realm out yonder Our friend the Stork did bring.

Last night a babe awakened, And, babe, how strange and new Must seem the home and people The Stork has brought you to; And yet methinks you like them - You neither stare nor weep, But closer to my dear one You cuddle, and you sleep!

Last night my heart grew fonder - 0 happy heart of mine, Sing of the inspirations That round my pathway shine! And sing your sweetest love-song To this dear nestling wee The Stork from 'Way-Out-Yonder Hath brought to mine and me!


A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land - Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say! A snug little berth in that ship I demand That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand; You take of that fruit as much as you list, For colic's a nuisance that doesn't exist! So cuddle me and cuddle me fast, And cuddle me snug in my cradle away, For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast - Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!

The Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day! Heigh-ho for Winkyway land! And Bottle-Tree fruit (as I've heard people say) Makes bellies of Bottle-Tree babies expand - And that is a trick I would fain understand! Heigh-ho for a bottle to-day! And heigh-ho for a bottle to-night - A bottle of milk that is creamy and white! So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast, And cuddle me snug in my cradle away, For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast - Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!


Of mornings, bright and early, When the lark is on the wing And the robin in the maple Hops from her nest to sing, From yonder cheery chamber Cometh a mellow coo - 'T is the sweet, persuasive treble Of my little Googly-Goo!

The sunbeams hear his music, And they seek his little bed, And they dance their prettiest dances Round his golden curly head: Schottisches, galops, minuets, Gavottes and waltzes, too, Dance they unto the music Of my googling Googly-Goo.

My heart - my heart it leapeth To hear that treble tone; What music like thy music, My darling and mine own! And patiently - yes, cheerfully I toil the long day through - My labor seemeth lightened By the song of Googly-Goo!

I may not see his antics, Nor kiss his dimpled cheek: I may not smooth the tresses The sunbeams love to seek; It mattereth not - the echo Of his sweet, persuasive coo Recurreth to remind me Of my little Googly-Goo.

Love-Songs of Childhood - 5/10

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