Tick the clock with a wooden sound, And fill the hearing with childish glee Of rhyming riddle, or story found In the Robinson Crusoe, leather-bound Old book of the Used-to-be! John McKeen of the Past! Ah, John, To have grown ambitious in worldly ways!-- To have rolled your shirt-sleeves down, to don A broadcloth suit, and, forgetful, gone Out on election days! John, ah, John! did it prove your worth To yield you the office you still maintain? To fill your pockets, but leave the dearth Of all the happier things on earth To the hunger of heart and brain? [Illustration] Under the dusk of your villa trees, Edging the drives where your blooded span Paw the pebbles and wait your ease,-- Where are the children about your knees, And the mirth, and the happy man? The blinds of your mansion are battened to; Your faded wife is a close recluse; And your "finished" daughters will doubtless do Dutifully all that is willed of you, And marry as you shall choose!-- But O for the old-home voices, blent With the watery jingle of pans and spoons, And the motherly chirrup of glad content, And neighborly gossip and merriment, And the old-time fiddle-tunes! [Illustration] [Illustration] THROUGH SLEEPY-LAND Where do you go when you go to sleep, Little Boy! Little Boy! where? 'Way--'way in where's Little Bo-Peep, And Little Boy Blue, and the Cows and Sheep A-wandering 'way in there;--in there-- A-wandering 'way in there! And what do you see when lost in dreams, Little Boy, 'way in there? Firefly-glimmers and glowworm-gleams, And silvery, low, slow-sliding streams, And mermaids, smiling out--'way in where They're a-hiding--'way in there! Where do you go when the Fairies call, Little Boy! Little Boy! where? Wade through the clews of the grasses tall, Hearing the weir and the waterfall And the Wee Folk--'way in there--in there-- And the Kelpies--'way in there! And what do you do when you wake at dawn, Little Boy! Little Boy! what? Hug my Mommy and kiss her on Her smiling eyelids, sweet and wan, And tell her everything I've forgot About, a-wandering 'way in there-- Through the blind-world 'way in there! [Illustration] "THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS" Pap he allus ust to say, "Chris'mus comes but onc't a year!" Liked to hear him that-a-way, In his old split-bottomed cheer By the fireplace here at night-- Wood all in,--and room all bright, Warm and snug, and folks all here: "Chris'mus comes but onc't a year!" Me and 'Lize, and Warr'n and Jess And Eldory home fer two Weeks' vacation; and, I guess, Old folks tickled through and through, Same as _we_ was,--"Home onc't more Fer another Chris'mus--shore!" Pap 'u'd say, and tilt his cheer,-- "Chris'mus comes but onc't a year!"