Class _Ji6_liiiA Book _xJ^ Copyright Is^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Freckles and Tan 0<: ^^^^^^^ I m^m^ Wi 1 ^^t^ J^^h^bh^^C' ^I L ■-&k'-^m '"^^^^ywi ^^^^ lb. \ ^^^kfc. ^Wl ' ^'mv^ '''' ( Mmm r. From a photograph hy J. A. Brnsh, Minnenpolifi, Minn. FRECKLES AND TAN Freckles and Tan ^ ^ooli of |)timat0ttfl; Serete By ROWLAND C. BOWMAN With Illustrations by FANNY Y. CORY RAND, McNALLY & COMPANY Chicago New York London HBRfiRY f^i CONGRESS Two Oooie? Received JUL 2i 1904 Coo.vrlg'ht Entry 6la^ O^ XXc. No. ' COPY B 1 Copyright y igoo By Rowland C. Bowman Copyright y igo4 By Byrtha Louise Bowman 35 o3 To My Mother The Table of Contents PAGE Freckles and Tan 7 If I Were a Little Boy Again ....*. 8 The Peppermint Candy Heart ii An Ode to the Hairbrush 14 To the Stone Bruise 16 Going Visiting with Ma 18 Wash Your Feet 21 Waiting for the Second Table 25 Our Old Ma-Cat 28 A Domestic Strike 30 Asleep in Church 31 The Father of Waters 35 How to Make a Loaf of Bread 37 Boyhood's Happy Hours 4° An Essay on the June Bug 42 On Smoking 43 The Chip 45 Halloween 47 The Bat and the Owl 49 Little Billy Hood 5° Baby Sweetheart 53 Chub Kimberley 55 The Pup Dog's Opinion of the Quick- Tempered Man 62 Rootin' for the Peg 64 A Stormy Night 68 Freckles and Tan FRECKLES AND TAN Say, what are the wee Httle freckles, And what in the world is the tan, That color and sprinkle all over The face of our dear little man? The tan is a heavenly mixture Of happiness, sunshine, and joy. That darkens the shade of the roses That bloom in the cheeks of our boy. The freckles are scars from the kisses That angels, in loving embrace. Have pressed, in a careless confusion, All over our little boy's face. So, here's to the boy with the freckles, The boy with the freckles and tan ! These glorious imprints of heaven Have labeled him, God's Little Man. IF I WERE A LITTLE BOY AGAIN If I were a little boy again, I tell you what I 'd do ; I 'd harness up my dog some day And ride around for you. I 'd let your little sister drive, While I'd sit in behind; With you tucked in the middle, We'd himt around and find The Land of Chocolate Caramels, on The Sea of Lemonade, And there we 'd dig for custard with A little candy spade. 8 Freckles and Tan If I were a little boy again, I'd build a ship for you; I 'd build it out of sassafras And have a jolly crew, By making you the captain bold. With sister as your mate. The dog would be the cabin boy To keep our baggage straight. And I? I'd be the cook. (You see To sail without a cook. Is just about as foolish as To fish without a hook.) We'd launch the ship upon the sea And sail far, far away. To find the Isle of Butterscotch In Honeysuckle Bay. We'd land upon the island in Some quiet, shady spot, And build a summer cottage Near the Brook of Soda Pop. We'd build a summer cottage out Of ginger snaps and gums. And live on cracker jack and cake And cocoanuts and plums. lo Freckles and Tan And there we'd dwell forevermore, Forever and a day, On our little candy island, back In Honeysuckle Bay. THE PEPPERMINT CANDY HEART Dorothy Baby Love knew a boy, A little boy over the way, A cute little fellow, with curly head, Who smiled on Dorothy May. And Dorothy Baby Love smiled on him, It was really the thing to do; I guess you'd smile on a little boy, If a little boy smiled on you. 12 Freckles and Tan And so, by and by, my Baby Love, Whenever she went to play. Would look all round, until she found This little boy over the way. And, of course, in time he won her heart, This little boy over the way; He won the heart of my Baby Love, My sweet little Dorothy May. He won a peppermint candy heart. With a motto in pink and blue ; A motto in pink and blue that read, ''My Sweetheart, I Love You." A colored peppermint candy heart. That horrid boy over the way Stole with a crafty, deceitful art From poor little Dorothy May. But that isn 't all, — my goodness, no ! I '11 tell you the dreadfulest part. This bad, bad bo}^ hid up in the hay And swallowed the peppermint heart; Freckles and Tan 13 Yes, ate tip the heart that Dorothy May Gave to that little scamp over the way ! Poor little Baby Love, Dorothy May ! Fie, fie, on the villain across the way! AN ODE TO THE HAIRBRUSH As you lie there on the bureau, With your bleached and bristled hair, In that melancholy manner, With your cold and haughty air, Brush, I find I'm wont to wonder, Speculate, and figure out Why such fiendish tools of torture Are allowed to lie about. Causing heartaches, yea, and sadness, Causing tears to freely flow, — Why are you allowed to prosper, Generating grief and woe? 0, the pains and pangs you Ve caused me ! O, the sadness you have wrought! 14 Freckles and Tan 15 Brush ! your imprints on my person Hurt me at the very thought. Tell me, Brush, O, clear, good Brushie, Tell me just one little thing ; Tell me, great and noble Hairbrush, Tell me, please, where is thy sting? When the world is bright and happy, When my youthful soul is gay, When my heart is glad and cheerful, When I choose to run away With the boys and go in swimming ' In the mill pond down the lot, You bob up, you fiendish Hairbrush, With my parent waxing hot. Then a woe swoops down upon me With a wild and fearful rush, And the pain of pains steals o'er me,— Yea, I 'm up against the Brush. Deliver me, O, goodness! From this fierce domestic storm! Save, O, save me from the Hairbrush, And the parent waxing warm ! t6 Freckles and Tan TO THE STONE BRUISE O, you turbulent sensation, Triple extract of emotion And reiterated torture, Shooting through my metatarsus! What a fierce, incessant thumping. What a harsh and raspy bumping Freckles and Tan 17 Of a torment, never ceasing, Never ceasing, but increasing! Yea, increasing to a fearful Tantalizing, mocking fury! Potentate of irritation, King of pain and agitation. How in thunder can we cure you? How does mortal man endure you? All the remedies invented Couldn't even have prevented This detestable disaster! Why this sticky flaxseed plaster? Worthless, weak, insipid poultice, You're unto this fiendish stone bruise As the snowdrop, pale and placid, Is unto sulphuric acid. Leave me, fruitless flaxseed plaster; Leave me to my cruel master ; Leave me to my penal woe. Ouch! O, golly! O! O!! 01!! mm jp^ipl '< i^ GOING VISITING WITH MA Going visiting with ma : What a cheerful recollection Lies imbedded in the thought; What a vast amount of elevating Knowledge one is taught! O, the interesting learning One is able to detect; O, what weighty wads of wisdom Settle on the intellect; What a perfect understanding Doth inoculate the brain, When it ' s learned that yam will average i8 Freckles and Tan 19 Ten full knots to every skein; What an undisturbed attention One endeavors to employ, What an all-absorbing interest Takes possession of a boy, When he overhears that ruffles Should be quartered off and shirred ; And to cut them on the bias, And to gather in a third. And to mind and shrink the haircloth. And to iron out the waist, And to frill and flounce and fluff it, And to hem and stitch and baste, — O, how soothing to his feelings. When his cerebrum is graced With this awe-inspiring, rapid Evolution of his taste; What a sense of satisfaction Buds and blossoms from the news. That a certain Mrs. Hager Has a hat like Mrs. Hughes', And that Mrs. Norval Benson Doesn't speak to Mrs. Wright; What an overflowing fountain 20 Freckles and Tan Of perpetual delight, What an opalescent atmosphere Of intellectual light Illuminates his being With an overwhelming might, What a sense of bliss and freedom. What a sense of perfect joy. Comes and soothes the nervous system Of the young and restless boy, When he's visiting with ma. Freckles and Tan 21 WASH YOUR FEET When daisies blossom in the lane Somewhere about the middle of May, And birds sing out a glad refrain Of greeting to the coming day; When skies are hung in deepest blue; When breezes seem a heaven's breath, And everything is glad and new, When life and love have conquered death, Our boy unto his ma will say, " Can I leave off my boots to-day?" She says, "My little son, you may; But mind," the mother will repeat, As lovingly she pats .• ^ \. w \ iJ'^^^hw jj his head, "You'll not forget to • . v '■•.'W ^' " -^i wash your feet Before you go to bed. ' 2 2 Freckles and Tan Then, 0, the wild, ecstatic bliss, The magnified, exquisite joy! The princely, priceless happiness Of this iinerring, mindful boy, As in the road he'll imitate A "local freight" or "fast express" With such a giddy, gliding gait Of dizzy, romping recklessness. Ah, Woo-oo! Woo- woo! Ding-dong! Ding-dong ! Choo-choo! Choo-choo! Pling-plong! Pling-plong ! So runs the howling boy along. Then mother calls : * ' My angel sweet Must surely mind what mother said, And not forget to wash his feet Before he goes to bed." He madly rushes here and there, From barnyard to some quiet nook. From marsh to meadow, — everywhere, From orchard to the shaded brook. Freckles and Tan 23 He sails along in fierce delight, And runs and plays and tears about, Until the fast approaching night Will find our boy all tired out ; A blissful tired out that feels Like angels tugging at his heels. He stumbles to his room and kneels And clasps his hands and bows his head, And says his prayers and falls asleep, — Forgets, of course, to wash his feet Before he goes to bed. And, 0, that sweet angelic sleep Of peace and calm content and rest; That sleep so silent and so deep! A boy asleep is truly blessed. And dreams? He dreams of purple skies, And Pixies waltzing to and iro With humming-birds and butterflies; How silently they come and go! A voice that heralds dreadful woe Comes stealing in like winter's sleet. 24 Freckles and Tan 'Tis mother's voice from overhead: ** Get out of there and wash your feet! Come, now; you'll soil the bed." O, Morpheus! We pray unbend: Release our drowsy, indiscreet, And sleepy boy. He did intend. We know he did, to wash his feet. Why hold him fast in torment so ? Why make him stagger, reach, and grope, Why make him stub and bump his toe ; Why hide the washpan, towel, and soap ? O, great and mighty god of sleep. Take off your mystic, magic chain And leave him. Let him wash his feet. Why clog his clouded, sluggish brain ; He just forgot. He's not to blame. Call off your torment, grief, and pain ; Call off that dull, distressing dread: There's time enough to come again When he gets back to bed. Freckles and Tan 25 WAITING FOR THE SECOND TABLE Waiting for the second table ! How we gaze up at the ceiHng Like a lot of wooden dummies; What a gone and absent feeling. Comes and harbors in our "tummies"! How we wait and watch and worry, In a morbid speculation At the total lack of hurry In our visiting relation. Gracious! how debilitating 26 , Freckles and Tan To the juveniles in waiting, Waiting for the second table ! Waiting for the second table, When the atmosphere is murky With the molecules that migrate From the cranberries and turkey. How our nostrils spread and dilate. How the gastric nerve doth quiver, How our hopes are overpowered. When our grandpa eats the liver, And the wishbone is devoured ! Goodness me ! How nauseating To the juveniles in waiting, Waiting for the second table! Waiting for the second table, Waiting for the baked potatoes. Waiting for the cabbage salad, Hubbard squash and stewed tomatoes! Pumpkin pie and apple fritter! Mercy! ain't it simply awful. Ain't it gruesome, sad, and bitter, When the victuals all have vanished, Freckles and Tan 27 And we young ones, weak and weary, Sick at heart and fairly famished. Are invited to that dreary. Dreadful scene of devastation. To the commissary station, To that wrecked and rifled table. To that barren second table! OUR OLD MA-CAT Our old ma-cat has been with us For nearly seven years ; Her fur is short and frowsy, And there's nicks in both her ears. But she 's one of our family, And she'll stay here night and day, 'Till death comes in and claims her; Then she'll be laid away. Our old ma-cat has got a way Of jumping on the bed, 28 Freckles and Tan 29 When Bub and I are sleeping; And she takes and rubs her head Along our nose, down round our ear, Bump! up against our chin, And then she'll sneeze, and purr and purr. And then she'll sneeze ag'in. Our old ma-cat has got a way Of lying in your lap, Pretending like she's just about To take a quiet nap. She'll spread her paws and grip your clothes And pull like Sunday sin. And sometimes when she grips your clothes She also grips your skin. Our old ma-cat has got a way- Of keeping out of sight ; For days and days she can't be found, But she comes back all right, And brings along the blamedest bunch Of weenty-teenty brats. That by and by turn out to be A lot of little cats. 1^; isri\ A DOMESTIC STRIKE If ma ever becomes a new woman, Just then ma and I will play quit; I 'm willing to wear out my father 's, 'Cause they are some sort of a fit. But, by the gee-wolliker-gimminy-whew, If I 'm to wear out my mother 's too, I'll kick up a howling hull-a-baloo ; I won't wear ma's, I'll be blamed if I do. 30 ASLEEP IN CHURCH O, that melancholy morning, Sunday morning back in June, When the song-birds in the meadow Seem to warble out of tune, When our boy is bound and fettered In his go-to-meetin ' clothes, And the world is full of torment. Full of irritating woes, 3 32 Freckles and Tan As to church he slowly trudges, With his mother by his side, Tortured by a standing collar, Squeaky shoes and broken pride. Seated in the pew he listens. Listens as he yawns and sighs; Finds a rubber in his pocket. So he starts to snapping flies. Plays the flies are "Spanish privates," Plays the rubber is a gun, Plays that he 's a gallant hero, Killing "dagos" one by one Plays until a drowsy, quiet, Heavy feeling, dull and deep, Softly comes, and slowly, slowly. Nods our little boy to sleep. Then a mixed and troubled vision Flits across his sleepy brain, As the voices of the choir Die away in sad refrain. Then he dreams he's on the bleachers, Taking in a game of ball, Freckles and Tan 2)3) Sees the preacher in the diamond Coaching. Hear him, hear him call: "Go, it, Fatty! Hump, you tiger! Dig in, Fa-a-a-t ! You Ve got to sli-ide ! Thou art lost, ye mortal sinner! Who's to bat?" the preacher cried. Here he comes ; it 's Shorty Hitchcock — "Strike a-one! Oh, that's too bad! Foul-1-1 ball! Now take it easy! Bump her. Shorty! You're the lad!" Shorty Hitchcock makes a single. Slides to second on a muff. Now, then, little Spot Maloney Hands the ball a dinky cuff; Just enough to carry Shorty On to third. "A sacrifice," Cries the preacher, "is a virtue, Selfishness a horrid vice; Give and you'll receive a blessing. Take and — Shorty, that's enough! Watch 'em. Shorty! Keep 'em guessing! Look out ! Hold it! That 's the stuff !' ' Now the gentlemanly usher With a polka-dot cravat, 34 Freckles and Tan Takes a little wicker basket, Velvet lined, and goes to bat. "Steady now," the preacher whispers; "Easy ! Lift her ! That 's immense !" High the usher sends the "leather" Clear beyond the center fence ; Then he starts to running bases, Selling peanuts on the way; Makes about a hundred tallies, Wins the game and saves the day. Now the people in the grand stand Rise and sing in glad acclaim. Sing aloud to heaven's glory. Sing with all their might and main : ''When I tread the verge of Jordan, Bid my anxious fears subside, Death of death and hell's destruction, Land me safe on Canaan's side.'' Then our boy wakes up and stretches, Yawns and blinks and looks about. Listens to the benediction, — Thanks to goodness church is out! Freckles and Tan 35 THE FATHER OF WATERS Pa-of -Waters : How I love you, With your lapping sides that dip 'Round the bullrush and the lily. How I simply love to sit On your banks, O, Pa-of -Waters, While the sun is sitting down. How I love to muse the moment. While away the weary while ; Loll around and lie here dormant, While the sun is sitting down. Pa-of -Waters : Can't you fix it So that I can always stay On your banks and watch the fading Of the day and draw my pay; Half asleep, just flipping pebbles, Sun forever sitting down? 36 Freckles and Tan If you can't I'll muse the moment, While away the weary while ; Loll around and lie here dormant, 'Till the sun is clear set down — Then Fit go home. Freckles and Tan 37 HOW TO MAKE A LOAF OF BREAD Our ma has gone out in the country; We're left all alone (what a pity!), With nothing to do but to ponder And read aloud to the kitty. We run out of bread in the morning; But, knowing 'tis easy to make it, My father adjourns to the kitchen And silently starts in to bake it. The Recipe Take two coffee cups full of flour, With water sufficient to "dough" it, A thimble of salt for the ''season," Now roll it and poke it and blow it. And blow it and poke it and roll it, And pinch it and push it and flop it. And punch it and pound it and pull it. And monkey around till you drop it ; Then clean it off nice with a towel, And soak in a yeastcake to "raise" it; 38 Freckles and Tan Now drop in some soda to "short" it, And smear on some butter to "glaze" it; Place it 'way back in the oven (That is if you've molded and "set" it), Close up all the doors of the kitchen, Go in and sit down and forget it. Go sit yourself down in the parlor. And read from the "Science of Baking," Read on till you smell something burning, Then think of the bread you are making. Ereckles and Tan 39 Now hop, skip, and jump to the kitchen, And, as you hop nigher and nigher. You know by the smoke in the hallway The blooming old bread is on fire. Now hustle it out in the alley, Juggle it, fumble it, shy it, Then gently dig up a nickel And go to the baker's and buy it. 40 Freckles and Tan BOYHOOD'S HAPPY HOURS Down where the lily pads dip and slumber, Down where the weeping willows grow, Down by the brook my fancy wanders, Laden with thoughts of long ago. O, those happy boyhood hours. Fragrant flowers! Back to the woodshed, back to the shingle. Back to the seat of my Sunday wear, Back to that soul-stirring, soothing tingle, That loosened my teeth and curled my hair. O, those happy boyhood hours. Fragrant flowers! Back to the meadow all sprinkled with daisies, Back to the shade of the apple tree, Back to the grove with its tangles and mazes, Sacred and dear to my memory. O, those happy boyhood hours, Fragrant flowers! Freckles and Tan 41 Back to the barnyard, mildewed and mossy, Back to the stall in the milking shed, Back to that blear-eyed, brindle bossy, Back to the bumps on my aching head. O, those happy boyhood hours, Fragrant flowers ! 42 Freckles and Tan AN ESSAY ON THE JUNE BUG The Jtine bug is a restless, careless beast, That tends to magnify the woe Of mortal man. Would they were all deceased ! But still, it might be well to show Our universe is wrought with nothing base, Without it serves a purpose in its place. Now take the June bug know When Jtme is drawing ^ near, Without this bug to flutter in our ear And bump us hiff! up- on our forehead, so ! I tell you it is nature 's way to show That June is here. How are we to Freckles and Tan 43 ON SMOKING O, yes, I'll agree that a good cigar Just after a meal is great; Or even a pipe would do me at times, And I wouldn 't hesitate To light up a stogie when pipes are shy ; Or, if stogies are hard to get, Perhaps, for the sake of a smoke, I 'd up And tackle a cigarette. And yet, from the stogies to fine cigars. Clear back to the cheap cheroot, I can't for the life of me find a smoke That honestly seems to suit. So turn the world back to my youth again, And show me a place to hide ; Then give me a hunk of some good rattan And there is where I'll abide, And dream of dreams that glorify The soul in peaceful rest, 44 Freckles cmd Tan And fall asleep with forty-two Burnt matches on my chest. Let 's quaff the fumes so fragrant, Let's puff, and taste, and smell The sweet, inspiring virtues Of a cotton umberel. THE CHIP O, the chip ! The chip upon the shoulder Of the hero of the hour ! See him glower, See him glare, See him scowl with wicked joy On the other little boy! See the other little boy, What a sad and woeful picture, 45 46 Freckles and Tan What a picture of depression And despair! See him stare! See him bite his lower lip! See ! He hits the chip a clip. Then and there, See the air, How it 's filled with legs and language. Hats and hair ! I declare! Freckles and Tan 47 HALLOWEEN This is the night when buzzards buzz, And the cuckoo coos — if he ever does — And the hzzards He round and Hz, And the boboHnks bob, if they're on to their ''biz," And the night is HteraHy soused in ink. As you silently wait and watch and think. And blink and wink. Now take the cud Of a brindle cow, and wade in the mud 'Way out in the marsh, and dig a hole With the shoulder blade of some poor soul That died a leper in Lim-Po-Kink. You bury the cud at half -past two, Lie flat on your back and take a chew Of garlic and glycerin and cloves; And close your eyes and wiggle your toes. And wish and wish till you're nearly dead. Then you wade back home and you crawl into bed. 48 Freckles and Tan And you wink and blink and you think some more, Of the leper who died on the far-off shore. You taste the garlic and see the cud, And fall asleep a-wading in mud, — And — your — wishes — will — all— come — true! Freckles and Tan 49 THE BAT AND THE OWL "What is the moon?" Said the bat to the owl ; "Your judgment is usually right." "The moon?" said the owl, "the moon? Let me see ; — Why, the moon is a hole in the night." "You're so gay," said the bat, "And so smart, and all that, I wish you'd explain to me. Why a man'll chase after a stranger's hat, And chase it in fiendish glee, As the wind takes it kiting along the street, — Why is it, sir?" said he. The owl with a scowl, in a worried way. And a voice exceedingly low. Took a gulp at the lump in his throat and said, "I'm a son of a stork if I know." 50 Freckles and Tan LITTLE BILLY HOOD Now my memory turns boy ward, Back, way back to Billy Hood, Back where duty used to bind me, To the buck-saw and the wood; Back, where Billy used to call me, From his yard across the way : "Hoo-oo! Hoo-oo! Hi, there, Fat-tee-ee ! Come on over here and play; Come on over here to our house, Bring your sling-shot and a club. There's a bullfrog in the cellar Sittin' underneath the tub." Then I'd holler back to Billy: " I 'd come over if I could. But I can 't come just at present, I must stay and buck the wood." Nearly every day I 'd hear him, Hear that little Billy Hood Call for me to come on over; But I had to buck the wood. Freckles and Tan 51 Once I noticed that a carriage Stopped in front of Billy's door; From that day poor little Billy Never called me any more. Heard his mother say that maybe God could save him — God was good — God could save her little Billy, But the doctor never could. Then the sorrow fell upon us, And the mystery and gloom; And I fancied that an angel In the little darkened room, Whispered to me very softly, In a voice that seemed to say, '•Fatty, buck your wood to-morrow, Come on over here and play." Even now I hear him calling, Calling, calling, far away ; Calling from the porch of heaven: ''Come on over here and play." 52 Freckles and Tan What an aggravating angel Is that httle Billy Hood. He knows just as well as I do, I 'd go over if I could ; He knows just as well as I do, He must know; it's understood, That I can't go just at present, I must stay and buck the wood. Freckles and Tan 53 BABY SWEETHEART Baby sweetheart says the night Is the day turned inside out ; Says the day is chunks of Hght, That the Lord spreads all about Over everything in sight. Says the moon is just the sun With the shine rubbed off a bit ; 54 Freckles and Tan And the stars are, every one, (Mind you, I don't question it), Little baby moons for fun. Baby sweetheart says the sky Is the top o' nothing, where Angels live, and by and by. If we're good, we'll both be there, Sometime, maybe, she and I. Freckles and Tan 55 CHUB KIMBERLEY Chub? Chub was a baby, A baby boy — Poor little Chub, Goin' on three; Ez bright a cub Ez God ever gin a soul to below. Why, him and me — Thickest old cronies ye ever see. Orphant ? No, sir! No, sir-ee-e! Chub was my boy. Chub Kimberley. Friends ? Well, I should say, Wisht you'd drapped round some time ago, A year or so back, Say 'long in May, An' watched us onct, An' seen the way The kid and me managed to chum 'er so. 56 Freckles and Tan Chub was a mighty small lump, ye know, Too small to keep up in the field, Too slow. But I had a back. An ' Chub he had A pair o' legs 'at wa'n't so bad. So off we'd go, Hoein' the taters row by row, Feedin' the stock in the field below, Mendin' the fencin' round the pen, Chasin' a chipmunk now and then, Down to the barn and back again. Chub a yellin' like all git out, Me a skedaddlin' about, Try in' to ketch the pesky lout, Thro win' stones an' clods o' dirt, (Ripped a brand new gingham shirt), — Chipmunk ? Twan't even hurt. But Chub ; it tickled him to see, — Eh? Yes, you're right; it tickled me. Of course, you know, A lot o' times Chub couldn't go; Freckles and Tan 57 Such times ez when I had to break The medder strip across the lake. But Chub, he'd alius keep awake An' come to meet me. Then, ker-whack! He'd go, fust thing, up on my back. One night I come home rather late, Must be'n a trifle after eight. 58 Freckles and Tan 'Twas close to dusk, at any rate, An' Chub wa'n't there, Wa'n't anywhere 'Round our usual meetin' place. I whistled onct or twict and sed, "Dad's little late; Chub's gone to bed." An' then I headed for the shed. Put up the bosses, spread their hay, Lit for the kitchen, shortest way, Fur I was hungry. I should say! Saw mother put tin' out the tub, — It looked like rain. "Hello, ol' Fub!" "Hello," sez she. "Hello! Where's Chub?" "Where's Chub," sez I; "aint he to bed?" "Why, no," sez she. "Why, no; why, he — He kissed me long ago, and sed He guessed he'd go to meet his dad." Poor little Chub. 'T wa'n't much use to look at night, But look we did with all our might. She beat the left lane, I the right ; Clear down and back, four times we took Freckles and Tan 59 The path 'at trailed 'long Cedar Brook, A-prayin' every step, to look For Chub. Poor little Chub! An' dark! Lord, you couldn't see Your hand afore your face ; I gee ! 'Twas hell's own night for ma an' me. Next day the neighbors heard and came And j'ined the search with might and main; But all results was 'bout the same. Till old Chet Morton struck a spot Of busted grasses. "Like as not 'Ere's where," Chet sed, "our Chub had sot." So right from there we took the trail, An' hugged her close an' found a nail — No place for nails — Chub dropped it. — Pale? Pale's a sheet; I 'gins to sweat. An' clinched my teeth an' follows Chet. "You wait," sed Chet, "we'll find him yet." On through the cut this side the mill, Down by the marsh beyant the hill, Wat chin' fur signs and keepin' still. Poor little Chub ! 6o Freckles and Tan ''He's put fur the lake," sed Chet. "He's crawled thro' here, see, thro' the bresh.'' Chet showed the broken twigs was fresh. I looked at ma an' mother she Just cried a bit an' looked at me. ''Go on through, boys," I sed, "an' see." And so they crawled along the ground, And on the other side the mound. Close to the water's edge they found Chub's little footprints in the sand, P'intin' toward heaven, — You understand, P'intin' toward heaven, Six rods beyant. Six rods beyant. Cuddled all up in a bunch o' hay, Was my boy Chub, a-sleepin' away, As dirty as sin. But alive, and say! You should a' seen mother An' me An' Chet An' all o' the boys. 'I gosh! I bet Freckles and Tan 6i You'd sed it was heaven We found that day, If you'd a' been there An' seen the way I bent my knees on that bunch o' hay An' blubbered and prayed, An' hung to Chub. An' Chub? Soon's he got loose, — Fust thing was he said was "boost!" "Boost, daddy, boost!" I gin him just one more good smack, Then, whoop ! he went up on my back. God bless our Chub. 62 Freckles and Tan THE PUP DOG'S OPINION OF THE QUICK-TEMPERED MAN I'm a pup dog and I know it, And it's like as not I show it, For my nose is cold, and wrinkles Mar my beauty, sir, like fun ; And my hide is loose and wopsy, And my feet go flipsy-flopsy When I run. Yes, my bark is rather rusty And my tail is short and dusty. And a melancholy tincture Taints my spirit most the while ; But I'll work out my salvation Like the rest of all creation, — Work and smile. Yet I'd rather be a yeller Wopsy pup dog than the feller That, because he mashed his finger. Freckles and Tan 63 Up and kicked me black and blue. Count in' all things in together, I would ever so much rather, Wouldn't you? 64 Freckles and Tan ROOTIN' FOR THE PEG Mind the time when we were younger, When the world was free from care? Mind the game of knife, old fellow. Do you, pardner? — Put her there! Ah! the "nosins" and the "earins," And the "skip-the-ditch," and say, Mind the "rootin' "? Ah, the "rootin' Talk about the "deuce to pay"! When the game of knife was ended And we found that we were "it," And the grass was neatly parted, And the peg was cut and split, And the other tunks about us Took a whack apiece around. Till the peg was quickly driven In the solid, soddy ground. How they yelled and hollered at us In their efforts to perplex ; Ah, our "rootin' " was a credit, sir, A credit to the sex. And it goes without the saying. Freckles and Tan 65 We were never known to beg, We might lose a tooth in trying, But we'd always fetch the peg. Ah, the peg! Good old peg! We might lose a tooth in trying, But we'd always fetch the peg. And, I say, do you remember, Friend, the tired-out that came. As a sort of benediction At the closing of the game ? Mind how mother used to call us As the day ran out of light, And the shadow arms of evening Stretched across the coming night? Could her voice be any plainer Were she calling us to-day. Saying, "Children, better come now; Getting pretty dark to play" ? Ah, how really interesting Was the good old game of knife, 66 Freckles and Tan And how keenly it reminds us Of the sober game of Hfe. 'Bout the same as back in boyhood, — Always "rootin' " for the peg; Hasn't changed a mite, I'm thinking, We must pull the peg or beg. Ah, the peg, peg, peg! It's a case of "root in'," fellows. Just an everlasting "root in' " for the peg. Still it's very interesting, This delightful game of life. Just imagine you are younger. And we're only playing knife. Pull the peg! Pull the peg, — that's what you're here for. If the market goes "agin" you, Buck the tighter, root the harder. Don't you know they're out to skin you? Pull the peg! But the time is coming, mind you, At the eve of mortal day. L.ofC. Freckles and Tan 67 He will call instead of mother, In the same child-loving way, Saying, ** Children, better come now; Getting pretty dark to play." Ah, the game, old friend, is ended, Let's go, pardner, what d' you say? P'r'aps we'll find in turning homeward, That the pegs have paved the way. Yes, the pegs we've pulled will help us With the pull we have with Him; And I'm willing, friend, to bet you We 've a chance of getting in, If we 've pulled the peg. 68 Freckles and Tan A STORMY 'NIGHT A Little Boys Theory The lightning shouldn't scare you And make you fret and cry ; It's only God in heaven, Scratching matches on the sky. He wants to light the sun and so, He works and works away 'Till afterwhile he gets it done, And then it's day !