A BOY'S BELIEF.
By Eva Best in "Harper's Young People."
It isn't much fun a-living if grandpa says what's true,
That this is the jolliest time o' life that I'm a-passing through.
I'm 'fraid he can't remember, it's been so awful long.
I'm sure if he could recollect he'd know that be was wrong.
Did he ever have. I wonder, a sister just like mine.
Who'd take his skates, or break his kite, or tangle up his twine?
Did he ever chop the kindling, or fetch in coal and wood.
Or offer to turn the wringer? If he did, he was awful good.
In summer, it's "weed the garden; "in winter, it's "shovel the snow;"
For there isn't a single season but has its work, you know.
And then, when a fellow's tired, And hopes he may just sit still,
It's "bring me a pail of water, son, from the spring at the foot of the hill"
How can grandpa remember a fellow's grief or joy?
'Tween you and me I don't believe he ever was a boy.
Is this the jolliest time O' life? Believe it I never can;
Nor that it's as nice to be a boy as a really grown-up man.