Grandma's Young Days

Grandma's Young Days

Once Grandma was a young lady, she says.
It's hard to believe, but it's true.
She showed me a gown she used to wear then,
All soft, and all lace-y and blue.

She showed me the fan she carried, which she
Coquettishly swung to and fro.
I'd like to have seen her smiles and her frowns
At Grandpa, who then was her beau.

She showed me her slippers, spangly and white.
(So tiny and cute were her feet.)
I'd like to have seen her glide through a dance.
Her steps so precise and so neat.

She showed me the ring Grandpa gave to her
One evening of love and of bliss.
I'd like to have seen her young lover plant
On her brow his chaste, proper kiss.

She showed me the locket which she used to wear.
His picture and hers, both inside.
Were taken, she says, upon the glad day
She became my Grandpa's young bride.

Oh, Grandma! you then were so sweet and so fair
Of lip, and of cheek and of brow.
I'd like to have seen you, far different then,
But not a bit sweeter than now!

Counting the Baby's Toes

Counting the Baby's Toes

"Inkum, blinkum, winkum, niddle and nod,
Every one sweet as a rose."
Dear Grandmother croons this sleepy-time song,
Counting the little toes.

"Lively, frolic, kick-y, upum and go,
How much fun no-body knows!"
Dear Grandmother chants this waking-up lay,
Counting the little toes.

When Grandma Was a Little Girl

When Grandma Was a Little Girl 

When Grandma was a little girl
Her dresses came 'most to the floor
And over them she used to wear
A pretty ruffled pinafore.
Her bonnets, though, were very plain.
She carried a small reticule
And wore a little shoulder cape
Of mornings, when she went to school.

My Grandma always was most neat,
Obedient, and good, and true;
It was a pleasure, so she says,
To do as she was told to do.
And when she sewed she always set
Her stitches firm and neat and fine;
That sampler on the parlor wall
She worked: "Cordelia, aged nine."

She pieced a quilt 'fore she was eight,
'Twas made of white and gay maroon.
She'd sit most patiently each day
And stitch the whole long afternoon.
Her stockings, too, she always knit.
And turned with skill the heel and toe.
She darned and patched - such useful things
She says, each young girl ought to know. 

When Grandma was a little girl
She was, I think, so very dear.
Such eyes! Such smiles! Such lovely hair
This is her picture hanging here.
I'd like to look as she did then,
(Such praise, I know, her beauty got)
But as for doing as she did,
I really think I'd rather not!

The Old and the New

The Old and the New

My sister had her picture taken
To-day. It's cute as cute can be.
Her hair is bobbed, her dress correct.
It's not in inch below her knee.

She slipped the picture in the album.
It happened then that right beside.
There was a photo of our Grandma.
Taken the day she was a bride.

And Grandma's dress was in the fashion:
That is, 'twas stylish for her day.
Though, could she step now in our ball-room,
Sue says, she'd be thought "quite passe."

Her waist was small; she wore a bustle;
A tiny little fan she bore;
Her dress was widened out by hoop-skirts.
And barely it escaped the floor.

A cute and dainty little ringlet
So jauntily hung o'er her ear.
She looked so odd, and quaint and funny.
But 'spite of that so very dear.

They say that girls to-day are silly;
The way they dress is most unwise.
Sue's picture looks as well; is Grandma's:
At least it seems to in my eyes.

Sue says she feels so free, unhampered,

And has no bother with her clothes.
How in the world dear Grandma managed.
Why surely only goodness knows!

The Way Out

The Way Out

At home my Mamma says: "Oh, shame!
You are by far too big
To gobble: 'sides you'll get too fat.
Now, don't eat like a pig."

At Grandma's, Grandma always says;
"You are so small, I know
You'd ought to try out eating more,
I'd like to see you grow."

Now maybe both are half way wrong.
To Grandma I'll indite
A note: "Please keep me half the time,'
Then I will grow just right!

A Pertinent Question

A Pertinent Question

When I contradict my mamma,
She always says just so:
"I'm older far than yon, my dear,
Don't yon think I'd ought to know?"

But whenever mamma spanks me,
My Grandma shakes her head,
And says, "No, no, a gentler way;
Just you love her hard instead."

And mamma always says to that:
"Indeed! you'd spoil her, though."
Now Grandma's very, very old,
Don't you think she'd ought to know

When Grandma Tucks Me In...

When Grandma Tucks Me In

Mamma puts me to bed o' nights,
And after I have said my prayers.
She sits and talks awhile before
She leaves me and goes back down stairs.

And when I am about asleep,
I hear a whisper, "Little Min!"
And slipping softly to my bed,
My Grandma comes and tucks me in.

I'm glad for Mamma's thoughtful care,
Her talks of goodness and of sin -
Please don't tell her I could not sleep
'Thout Grandma came and tucked me in.

The Old Sampler

The Old Sampler

I found it in the attic,
All covered o'er with grime.
Scarce could I read it's letters,
So faded now by time.
A queer, old-fashioned sampler,
My tears bedew each line.
Grandmother set these stitches.
When she was "aged nine."

I seem to see her working
If I but close my eyes,
Dear wee one, bravely tackling
Her stent. So great it's size!
With patience rare she wove them,
These gaudy stitches fine.
How I love each straggling one!
"Cordelia, aged nine."

The sampler is an heir-loom
We'll always hold most dear.
It sets for us the lesson
That we should persevere.
Your patience made you saintly,
Your memory we'll enshrine,
Your virtues try to copy,
"Cordelia, aged nine."

Two Proverbs

Two Proverbs

My Mamma always says to us -
To me and Tom and Kate -
"Oh, hurry, hurry, hurry now!
To school you will he late!

You've heard it often. I am sure
The proverb you should know
About the tortoise, and the hare
Who lost, 'cause he was slow."

But Grandma always says to us.
"Now why this anxious haste?
Try to be calm and cool, my dears.
Remember, 'haste makes waste.' "

I am not wise enough to know
Which way I should prefer
For living by, but I am sure
Grandma's is pleasanter!

I'll Be Your Valentine

I'll Be Your Valentine

I took some paper, pen and ink,
And tried so hard to make
A pretty one and write on it
"For your own dear, sweet sake."
But soon I found that drawing things
Is clearly not my line,
But if you think I'll do for one
I'll be your valentine.

Perhaps I should have bought you one
But cents I had but few,
And really nothing they would get
Was good enough for yon.
I asked Mamma. "Why send such things
She said : "They are love's sign."
So, if I can mean that to you,
I'll be your valentine.

Of course you may get heaps of 'em:
I fear, tho', 'cause you're old,
That folks will think you know their love
Without a-being told.
So to make sure you will get one
That's extra nice and fine,
Why Grandma, if I'll fill the bill,
I'll be your valentine.

Contrast

Contrast

'Tis queer to think of our Grandmas,
That once they were but little girls,
And wore their hair in long pigtails,
Or else in funny, bobbing curls.

'Tis queer to think they ran and played,
And laughed and romped in childish glee.
I wonder if they ever tired,
And rested on their Mother's knee.

But sad to think they had to work,
And learn to sweep, and bake, and mend.
'Tis painful how they had to sit
And stitch those long seams without end.

There's much to envy 'bout those days,
And much looks most unpleasant, too.
I think I'd rather live to-day,
Because there is much less to do!

G-R-A-N-D-M-A

G-R-A-N-D-M-A

I'm four years old and can't know much.
I'm proud, though, that I write and spell
A great big word, and Mamma says
I really do it very well.

Course Mamma showed me how to print
This word - it's letters slow I'll say.
Can you pronounce it when I've done?
It's G-r-a-n-d-m-a.