A Freckle-Faced Boy.

A poem by George W. Doneghy

I.

I'm just in my glory when the cat I can tease,
Or I'm hunting for bird nests up in the trees,
And I wear out my pants in the seat and the knees;
I'm the pride of my daddy, my mammy's own joy--
A frolicsome, rollicksome, freckle-faced boy!


II.

I can make a top hum, and at marbles, you bet,
I'm the cock of the walk and the king of the "set;"
I'm hearty and healthy--and don't you forget
The dead loads of "goodies" that I can destroy--
I'm a frolicsome, rollicksome, freckle-faced boy!


III.

They send me to school with my satchel and books,
And my pockets bulged out with nails and fish-hooks;
And sometimes while there my teacher she looks
And captures the things that provoke and annoy
From a frolicsome, rollicksome, freckle-faced boy!


IV.

My mammy she says that it's quite evident
Of the country some day I'll be President;
But auntie, she says from the way I am bent
The gold of her dream will be full of alloy
From a frolicsome, rollicksome, freckle-faced boy!


V.

I'm huntin' for fun, and I don't have a care,
And there's dirt on my hands, and I don't comb my hair,
And off-colored patches quite often I wear;
But there's no kind of sport the young heart can cloy
Of a frolicsome, rollicksome, freckle-faced boy!

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