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Title: The Lonely Child
Author: Everard Jack Appleton [
More Titles by Appleton]
It takes so long to grow up big and get to be a man,
I wisht sometimes that I'd been born as old as Mary Ann;
(She is the cook, and she's so old her teeth come out at night),
'Cause then I wouldn't want a boy to play with or to fight.
But now I go upstairs and down
And get in people's way,
Because there ain't no children here
To play with every day.
The house next door is big and fine, but nobody lives there;
And all the winders, like big eyes, just stare at me, and stare,
Until I run back in our house and 'tend like I can't see,
And feel my way around the rooms till ma, she says to me:
"My goodness, Rob, what is this game?
Pretending you are blind?
Dear me! The child has surely got
A most peculiar mind."
I've ast my pa to go and buy a brother for me, too;
But he jest shakes his head and says that it would never do;
And then he takes a book up quick and reads to me and tries
To make me laugh and talk to him; but sometimes ma, she cries.
But even then I seem to see
The empty house next door
And all those big, dark window-eyes
That stared at me before.
Some time I'm going to run away and find a father-man
Who has whole lots of boys and girls--for I am sure I can--
And when I do, I'm going to ast him please to come and take
The house next door and live in it--and--do it for my sake!
And if he does, oh, won't it be
A happy day for me?
I'll get a lot of brothers, then,
Without no bother--see?
[The end]
Everard Jack Appleton's poem: Lonely Child
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