  WHEN I was just a little boy and sent to cut the weeds, I played myself a hero bold and given to mighty deeds; I played myself an armored knight, my scythe a broadsword keen, The weeds an army of my foes come marching o’er the green; I laid my good broadsword about, they broke and ran pell-mell, At every stroke some stubborn lout and his retainers fell. And when I told them of my play, with lusty shouts and glee, The neighbor boys brought scythes and fell to cutting weeds for me. When I was just a little boy and sent to cut the wood, I played myself a frontier scout, six feet in buckskin stood; I played the red men swarmed about and all the timbers laid Must be quick hewed and fashioned for an old frontier stockade; Quick fell my axe with flashing blade, for all about I heard And when I told them of my play, with lusty strokes and cry, The neighbor boys fell to and wrought my woodpile brimming high. When I was just a little boy and sent to scrub the walk With hose and broom, I used to play it was the good ship Hawk Or Hornet, Spider or Whatnot, afire far out at sea, Nor help at hand where’er I looked, to windward or to lee; And how I fought the tongues of flame that swept by stern and bow! The clouds of smoke that rolled above—I almost see them now! And when I told them of my play, with many a lusty shout, The neighbor boys plied hose and broom to put the fire out. And when I had to shovel snow I led’ some hardy band Of undismayed discoverers, in far-off Arctic land; With stores and goods and blubber, too, all buried deep below The mark that I had left beneath some good six feet of snow; At last the goodly stores of stuff that we had left behind. And when I told them of my play, with many a lusty shout, The neighbor boys plied willing spades and helped me dig them out. |
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