Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

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Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 873

by L. Frank Baum

“Despise! and why?” then asked the Old.

  Such tasks are womanly, I’m told,

  And always by our sex controlled.”

  “Our sex controlled by them!” said she

  Who so advanced seemed to be;

  “But such low tasks won’t do for me.”

  “Then tell me, pray, what can you do,

  Of household drudgery in lieu,

  That more becomes a woman true?”

  “Do? I enter in man’s domain;

  I type-write, lecture, deal in grain

  And stocks, and exercise my brain

  With politics and civic laws,

  And I in these excel because

  My energy can never pause,

  My honor cannot be assailed,

  And bribery has ever failed,

  To tempt me. Ev’rywhere I’m hailed

  As mistress of the universe!

  My advent has removed the curse

  From politics. I’m not averse

  To taking in life’s game a deal,

  To eating at the club my meal

  Or riding straddle on my wheel.”

  “Stop!” said the Old, with blushing face,

  “Women like you would soon disgrace

  Our age, our country and our race!

  You speak of buffeting with life

  As if you loved the horrid strife

  More than the tender name of ‘wife’.

  Where is your time for motherhood,

  And housekeeping, and other good

  And noble works that women should

  Her privilege consider? Can

  You for a moment think a man

  Would love a woman who outran

  Propriety in talk and dress;

  Who never cared for a caress,

  But urged her ‘new’ ideas with stress?”

  “Love!” said with scorn of the other, I

  The very name of love deny.

  ‘T is a delusion. Tell me why

  Woman should ever prize a love

  Which brands her ‘pet’ and ‘turtle-dove”,

  Bestowed by man, who stands above

  Her, as ‘lord of all creation’,

  ‘Lifts’ her to his ‘higher station’,

  And thus seals her degradation?”

  “Love,” said the Old one, thoughtfully,

  “Is sweeter, dearer far to me

  Than worldly strife could ever be.”

  “Poor thing!” the woman New now sighed,

  “To rouse your interest I’ve tried

  In occupations dignified

  And fit for woman’s higher sphere;

  But you’re old fashioned, weak and queer,

  And past redemption now, I fear.

  And so, I’ll leave you to your fate,

  Although I wish you’d emulate

  My acts, and be regenerate.”

  “Poor thing!” the other answered, low,

  “It seems a shame that you must go

  Through life and sweet Love never know!

  I wish that I could make you feel

  The difference ‘twixt false and real,

  And our true sphere to you reveal.”

  Each pitying he other’s plight

  They passed from one another’s sight.

  Now tell me--can you?--which was right?

  Homo Sum

  When the bum has siezed the whiskey

  And the whiskey ‘s siezed the bum

  There ‘s a glaze upon his eyeballs

  And his legs are rather numb.

  Quite uncertainly he lurches

  As he reels the sidewalk down,

  All unconscious of reproaches,

  Muttered oaths, disgusted frown.

  Void his mind, his vision blurred,

  Only brutal intuition

  Doth enable him to keep

  Perpendicular position.

  You congratulate yourself

  By saying proudly “homo sum!”--

  When the bum has siezed the whiskey

  And the whiskey ‘s siezed the bum.

  That New Leaf

  LOOKING back with much contrition

  On my former evil ways,

  With the New Year came ambition

  Virtuously to end my days.

  So my habits quick reforming,

  Flask and pipe were thrown aside,

  And to nobler instincts warming,

  Cards and dice were scattered wide.

  On my lips each oath I stifled

  As my collar-button strayed,

  And when Nell my pockets rifled

  I knelt down and calmly prayed.

  And I bought a brand new diary

  And upon its pages white

  Aspirations grand and fiery

  Neatly I inscribed each night.

  Ah, how proud I walked the city,

  Conscious of my purity,

  And I felt how great the pity

  Every man was not like me!

  But, although the spirit’s willing

  Human flesh is mighty weak,

  And instead of quite fulfilling

  The ambitions did I seek,

  Scarce a week has now departed

  And--I shame the truth to tell--

  Yesterday I grew faint-hearted;

  My resolves are paving hades!

  Children’s Verse

  Dan’l

  WHEN Dan’l takes his fiddle down

  And deftly tunes the strings

  And rubs the rosin on his bow,

  The sound around him brings

  A score of village children,

  Who know the fun begins

  When Dan’l takes his fiddle down

  And deftly tunes the strings.

  When Dan’l takes the fiddle tuned

  He plays a lively air,

  Whereat his many listeners

  Most solemnly declare

  There ain’t a fiddler in the land

  That with him can compare--

  When Dan’l gets his fiddle tuned

  And plays a lively air.

  When Dan’l hangs his fiddle up

  His list’ners feel aggrieved;

  Regretful sighs betray how much

  Of pleasure they ‘re bereaved.

  Indeed, unless you’ve heard him play

  You ‘d never have believed

  When Dan’l hangs his fiddle up

  How much the crowd is grieved!

  The Tramp

  THE tramp is coming up the road;

  Tramp, tramp, tramp!

  His coat is torn, his step is free,

  He whistles very merrily,

  His face is soiled--a sight to see!--

  Tramp, tramp tramp!

  Up the hill and down again;

  Tramp, tramp, tramp!

  By the meadow, through the lane;

  Tramp, tramp, tramp!

  Begs his food from door to door,

  Eats between meals--eats before;

  Sleep at night upon the floor--

  Poor old tramp!

  The Big Black Bear

  NOW, once there came to our town a big black bear;

  You could n’t find his equal if you hunted everywhere.

  His eyes were very big and fierce, and shaggy was his hair,

  And his teeth shone white and sharp between his jaws.

  He stood upon his big rear legs, and people all did stare;

  To keep a proper distance they took the greatest care,

  For you had but to see him to make you well beware

  Of getting near those dreadful, pointed claws.

  He stood upon the sidewalk, did this big black bear,

  Before Andrew McFarlan’s store, as if it were his lair;

  And at the people passing by he wickedly did glare--

  A fact which all the children did deplore.

  But never once he left his post, in weather foul or fair,

  And though this might surprise you, it won’t when
I declare

  This awful brute was stuffed, and McFarlan put him there

  To serve as a sign before his clothing store!

  A Romance of a Broken Window

  I

  A LITTLE kit

  On end did sit

  To watch for mouse or sparrow;

  A little boy

  Played with a toy

  Known as a bow and arrow.

  II

  Intent on game

  Near puss he came

  And slyly raised his weapon,

  And drew the bow

  And then let go,

  And wondered what would happen.

  III

  The little cat

  No longer sat

  In dreamy contemplation--

  The arrow sped

  Straight for her head,

  To her intense frustration.

  IV

  Roused from her dream

  Puss gave a scream

  And out of danger fled,

  While through the glass

  The stick did pass

  And wounded that instead!

  My Little Maid

  I’M afraid

  There’s a maid

  Who’s set my heart a fluttering;

  Her praise I ‘m alwaysuttering,

  I can ‘t resist her charm.

  She’s so pretty

  It’s a pity

  For I fear I can ‘t resist her,

  And, indeed, last night I kissed her--

  Never thinking any harm.

  She ‘s a love

  Far above

  Other girls so ordinary,

  And her dimpled hand is very

  Nice to hold, as well I know;

  And it best

  Be confessed

  In my arms I ‘ve often caught her,

  For she ‘s Ward’s and Clara’s daughter

  And was born three years ago.

  Where Do They Go?

  WHERE do the chickens go at night--

  Heigh-ho! where do they go?

  Under the breast of their mother they rest,

  Finding her feathers a soft fluffy nest;

  And there ‘s where the chicks go at night,

  Heigh-ho!

  Yes, there ‘s where the chicks go at night.

  Where does the kitten go at night--

  Heigh-ho! where does it go?

  Under the stove in the kitchen it goes

  And cuddles up warm for a sweet repose,

  And there ‘s where our puss goes at night,

  Heigh-ho!

  Yes, there ‘s where our puss goes at night.

  Where does our little dog go at night--

  Heigh-ho! where does he go?

  Why, papa has made him a nice little bed

  In a snug little corner outside the shed,

  And that ‘s where our dog goes at night,

  Heigh-ho!

  Yes, there ‘s where our dog goes at night.

  Where does our baby boy go at night--

  Heigh-ho! where does he go?

  Into his little white cradle he goes

  Bundled up warm from his chin to his toes;

  And that’s where our boy goes at night,

  Heigh-ho!

  Yes, there ‘s where our boy goes at night.

  The Greedy Gold-fish

  WITHIN the sparkling water

  Of a pretty crystal dish

  There lived and swam together

  Three tiny golden fish,

  Whose lives were quite as happy

  As any fish could wish.

  No cat could ever harm them,

  So high their mansion stood,

  And mamma kept the water fresh

  And gave them for their food

  All of those little dainties

  That fishes think so good.

  Yet two were thin and delicate

  While one was big and strong

  Because he ate the fish that to

  The others did belong

  Before they could get at it--

  ‘T was surely very wrong!

  The little fishes grumbled

  At such a naughty trick,

  And when the food was thrown them

  They tried their share to pick,

  But scarcely got a nibble,

  The big one was so quick.

  And so, one rainy morning,

  When mamma was away

  And Johnny wondered how he

  Could pass away the day,

  He stood beside the gold-fish

  And watched them at their play.

  He ‘d just been playing “doctor”

  With mamma’s box of pills;

  He ‘d saved the cook from fever,

  He ‘d cured the nurse of pills;

  And now he thought the fishes

  Should be dosed for their ills.

  “Dose tunnin’ ‘ittle fisses,”

  He said, “seems awful bad!

  An’ dis de bestest med’cin’

  ‘At mamma ever had.

  I dess I’ll div’ ‘em one dose--

  Dey look so very sad!”

  So down in the water

  He softly dropped a pill,

  And that big, greedy gold-fish

  With open mouth and gill,

  Swallowed it, as if, indeed,

  He were really ill.

  But very soon this fish felt

  An awful pain inside;

  “This serves me right for eating

  So greedily!” he cried.

  Then he turned upon his back

  And flopped his tail, and died!

  The other little fishes

  Since he has gone away

  Now are growing big and fat

  As in the dish they play,

  For Johnny has n’t “doctored”

  Since that one rainy day.

  Who’s Afraid?

  Who’s afraid?

  EV’RY Giant now is dead--

  Jack has cut off ev’ry head.

  Ev’ry Goblin, known of old,

  Perished years ago, I’m told.

  Ev’ry Witch, on broomstick riding,

  Has been burned or is in hiding.

  Every Dragon, seeking gore,

  Died an age ago--or more.

  Ev’ry horrid Bogie Man

  Lives in far-off Yucatan.

  Burglars dare not venture near

  When they know that papa’s here.

  Lions now you only see

  Caged in the menagerie.

  And the Grizzly Bear can’t hug

  When he’s made into a rug--

  Who’s Afraid?

  Young America

  PAPA, tan I do to war

  ‘N’ have a lot of fun,

  ‘N’ wear a sodjer’s uniform

  ‘N’ make de Spanyids run?

  My Uncle Hal says Spanyid mans

  Is naughty mans, an’ so

  I deas I’ll tut off all der heads--

  Please, papa, tan I do?

  I’s dot a sword--it’s awful bent

  But you tan make it dood,

  An’ den I’ll ride my rocking-horse,

  Like any sodjer would.

  I’s dot a drum, I’s dot a horn--

  De drum has dot one head.

  An’--papa, I is s’eepy now;

  I dess I’ll do to bed!

  FATHER GOOSE: HIS BOOK

  Father Goose: His Book was L. Frank Baum’s first great success as an author. George M. Hill Company published it in 1899. The illustrator was W. W. Denslow, best known at that time as a poster artist. Baum and Denslow would go on to spectacular success with The Wonderful Wizard of Oz the following year. Baum’s first book of verse, By the Candelabra’s Glare, published in 1898, included a section of poetry for children and helped inspire the nonsense poetry of Father Goose: His Book. Released in plenty of time for the Christmas season, buyers snapped up the book and marveled over its lavish illustrations, unlike anything
in children’s literature up to that time. Authors Mark Twain and William Dean Howells praised Baum’s verse. After many lean years, Baum used his newly acquired wealth to build a lakeside cottage in Macatawa, Michigan, which he dubbed, “the Sign of the Goose.”

  A first edition copy of Father Goose: His Book

  CONTENTS

  Father Goose

  Why?

  Did You Ever See a Rabbit?

  To Walk Jim Jones

  Clockwork Man

  Tick Tock

  This Bold Boy

  There Was a Goose

  Mister Jinks

  Little Barelegs Runs

  Who’s Afraid?

  The Cats They Sit

  A Sailor from China

  If Johnny Had No Eye

  Sally Dance

  Old Mister Micklejohn

  Baby Found a Feather

  Jack Lantern

  A Bumble Bee

  Grandpa’s Head

  Uncle Dick Gave Me a Dolly

  Captain Bing

  I Had a Dog

  Little Tommy Toddlekin

  Organ Grinder

  Master Bunny

  Mr. Green

  Elephant

  Kitty Klymer

  Lee-Hi-Lung-Whan

  Little Nigger Boy

  John Harrison Hoy

  Polly Wants a Cracker

  Baby Pulled the Pussy’s Tail

  Patsy Bedad

  Caterpillar

  Ding a Ling

  Quite a Trick

  Come Into Our Store

  The Bandit

  Miss Nancy Puts on Airs

  The Bossie-Cow

  Standing on the Sidewalk

  A Man Last Tuesday

  Goodness Me!

  Civilized Boy

  Babies’ Serenade

  Dolly’s Run Away

  Annie Waters

  A Bee Flew Down

  There Was a Whale

  A Little Man

  Buy a Goose

  Miss Nancy Brown

  Cootchie Cooloo

  Here Is Paddy Geegan

  Tim Jenkins Tried

  Rough Riders

  The Coogie Bird

  The Ship Will Go

  Donnegan

  Chickens at Night

  Cats Babies Have

  Sun Bear Dances

  The Soldier

  Betsy Baker

  One Old Cat!

  Boy from Kalamazoo

  Boy, A Tiny Mite

  George Washington

  Sammy Simpson

  Seymour Credit

  An early edition of Father Goose: His Book, with music added

  Introduction.

  THERE is a fascination in the combination of jingling verse and bright pictures that always appeals strongly to children. The ancient “Mother Goose Book” had these qualities, and for nearly two centuries the cadences of its rhymes have lingered in the memories of men and women who learned them in childhood.

 

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