Behold my baby's garden, Close by a rubbish pile! Look at the sprinkling can and hoe And flowers; then tell me if you know Whether to sigh or smile. The flowers in baby's garden, Flat on the ground they lie, Two hyacinths, a withered pair, Plucked from the pile of rubbish, where They had been left to die. The flowers in baby's garden, "Planted" four days ago, Grow every hour a sadder sight, Weaker and sicklier, in spite Of sprinkling can and hoe. [Illustration] [Illustration] DECISION REVERSED When I mixed with the shoppers and fought in vain To get what I sought, in the Christmas rush; When they stood on my toes in the crowded train, Or dented my ribs in the sidewalk crush, I dropped my manners and snarled and swore, And thought: "It's a bothersome, beastly bore!" But when, at the Christmas dawn, they brought My kid to the room where his things were piled, And when, from my vantage point, I caught The look on his face, I murmured: "Child, Your dad was a fool when he snarled and swore, And called it a bothersome, beastly bore." [Illustration] [Illustration] THE GROCERY MAN AND THE BEAR He was weary of all of his usual joys; His books and his blocks made him tired, And so did his games and mechanical toys, And the songs he had always admired; So I told him a story, a story so new It had never been heard anywhere; A tale disconnected, unlikely, untrue, Called The Grocery Man and the Bear. I didn't think much of the story despite The fact 'twas a child of my brain. And I never dreamt, when I told it that night, That I'd have to tell it again; I never imagined 'twould make such a hit With the audience of one that was there That for hours at a time he would quietly sit Through The Grocery Man and the Bear. To all other stories, this one is preferred; It's the season's best seller by far, And out at our house it's as frequently heard As cuss-words in Mexico are. When choo-choos and horses and picture books fail, He'll remain, quite content, in his chair, While I tell o'er and o'er the incredible tale Of The Grocery Man and the Bear. [Illustration] [Illustration] COMING HOME Prepare for noise, you quiet walls! You floors, get set for heavy falls! Frail dishes, hide away! Get ready for some scratches, stairs! Clean table linen, say your prayers! The kid comes home today! For three long weeks you've been, O House, As noiseless as the well-known mouse, As silent as the tomb. And you've stayed neat, with none on hand To track your floors with mud and sand, To muss your ev'ry room. The ideal place for work you've been, But soon a Bedlam once again, A mess, a wreck. But say, I wonder will it make us mad. No, House, I'll bet we both are glad The kid comes home today.