Classic Poem

To-day I saw upon the street
A crowd of children, poor, yet neat,
Flocking to school with willing feet,
In the summer morning cool.
This day they all will look their best,
And do their tasks with willing zest,
For now has come vacation's rest,
'Tis the " Last day of school. "

It sets me thinking of the days
When I, too, loitered through learning's ways;
Less fond of books than schoolboy plays,
Always eager for fun!
The hill of knowledge was steep to me;
I much preferred to climb a tree ,
Or, winters, skate the ice so free,
And through the deep snow run!

'Twas full as hard in summer time
To watch that ledge of rocky lime
Where berries were just in their " prime, "
And birds were free to pick them!
To " go in swimming, " how we pined!
How late the sun at the western blind!
And those dull books, we had a mind,
Well, just to kick them!

" Old sow and pigs " was quite a game —
Unless some whack should make you lame; —
And " two-old-cat " is sure of fame
As any bard of Greece.
Our studies? Oh, let's pass them by!
Farewell old " Bullions, " too, but I
Remember when I " cut a pie "
At playing " Fox and Geese. "

Ink-bottles whizzing on their course
Would illustrate mysterious force —
We might be flogged till we were hoarse —
We never could explain.
Again, ere we could dine or sup,
Some infant " Little Buttercup "
Would mix our frugal luncheons up —
To our chagrin and pain.

A tribute to the dear old girls
Who lost our knives and stole our curls,
And set our cardiac tide in whirls
With some soft-whispered word!
Walking and singing down the aisles,
With arms entwined and rosy smiles,
Ah, happy queens! Ah, witching wiles!
(The lines are getting blurred.)

You notice I am country bred,
Of course our school was painted red;
Pine trees their needles near it shed —
For bare feet quite a boon.
High hills we coasted in December,
Just far enough off, I remember,
To tempt each mischief-minded member
To run away at noon!

I've ne'er seen wood that felt so hard
As those pine benches cut and scarred,
With many a rude initial marred —
The dunces had a stool.
With a big red stove to scorch my face,
And a sharp-edged shelf my back to brace,
Do you wonder I prayed with fervent grace
For the " Last Day of School " ?

Ah, well! The longest school terms cease;
At last it came — our glad release;
But first each lad must " speak his piece, "
In halting, sing-song rhymes.
The " trustee " came to watch the boys,
Sundry neighbors to hear the noise,
And criticise our bashful poise.
Ah, those were good old times!