Classic Poem

Our Johnny has caused some trouble of late:
The neighbors are scolding an uncommon rate,
And threaten the boy some dreadful hard fate;
I therefore would like the truth to relate.

The fact is, our Johnny was always a pet,
With sweet glossy curls and bright eyes of jet;
All said to his mother, whose eyelids grew wet,
" Your babe is the prettiest we ever met. "

Of course he at first must have his own way;
As matter of course he took it each day,
As other babes do. But it grieves me to say
He 's kept on that course till I have grown gray.

His mother's own fault! She was always too mild
For a fellow like Johnny, who 's naturally wild;
And had it not been for his mother, the child —
How often I 've told her! — would not have been spoiled.

At evening, as soon as I came up town,
She used to complain, before I sat down,
That my boy had broken some other boy's crown,
And acted the tyrant, or else like a clown.

He 'd do as he pleased, and would not obey,
And she had to coax and to pet him all day;
And still the young one would have his own way,
Do what she would do, say what she might say.

He ruled the whole house, as if he were king!
His mother, you know, should have clipped off that wing;
But no! all she did was to brag of the thing:
I knew all the while what trouble 't would bring.

Time came when we ought to have sent him to school:
Our Johnny, I say it, is far from a fool;
But he would not go; but grew very cool
To his parents, who 're right in such things to rule.

He felt half-insulted, I saw by his cheek;
His feelings were hurt; so he would not speak
To his mother, or me, for more than a week:
It grieved me to see him in such a long pique.

So Johnny staid home: and his mother then said
She was not surprised that the child had a dread
Of going to school, because she had read
That study sometimes affected the head.

I had to submit, for I did not know
But that what she said was really so;
Besides, as I said, the boy would not go,
And I did not like to make him my foe.

Our Johnny was fast with both fists and tongue,
And very much slandered for a fellow so young;
Brother Tom went so far — whose nose he had wrung —
To predict that the boy would one day be hung.

I said to his mother, " Don't let him do so,
But whip him! — not leave it for me, Love, to do;
For I come home tired! " But that was no go;
She did not at all like to do it, you know.

She did whip him once with a piece of a string,
But then begged his pardon, and gave him a ring;
And promised that when I came home I 'd bring
Him candy, or toys, or some pretty thing,

And cried all that night to the very most brink
Of hysterics, and scolded herself, just to think
She 'd struck (as she called him) her darling sweet pink!
And none of us slept that long night a wink!

They say that I ought to have whipped him. I should,
But Johnny was smart like when he was rude;
And when I had ought to, I then never would;
And now he 's so big I don't believe I could.

And after all said, the heart of the lad
Is not, at the bottom, so dreadfully bad;
He cuts up sometimes, and makes us feel sad,
But then he 's the only dear boy we have had.

We do not know yet what may be his fate;
He don't like to work, — that 's his special hate;
His mother believes he 'll be something great, —
" Perhaps, " as she says, " the Chief Magistrate! "

I really do hope that her words may prove true!
I'll do what I can to put the boy through:
I'm sorry his mother has spoiled Johnny so,
But he is not so bad after all but he 'll do!