The Truant Boy
Dublin Core
Title
The Truant Boy
Subject
Truancy, Boyhood
Creator
E. Belle Smith
Source
http://addison.vt.edu/record=b1775388~S1
Publisher
Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University
Date
1876
Contributor
Katie Garahan, Alexis Priestley
Rights
Permission to publish images from The Gray Jacket must be obtained from Special Collections, Virginia Tech.
Format
Text
Language
English
Type
Poem
Identifier
LD5655.V8 L4, ser.1, v.1, no.6 (Mar. 1876), p.1
Coverage
Blacksburg, VA
Text Item Type Metadata
Text
"Oh dear," a little boy once said,
One morning as he rose from bed;
"I do not see the reason why
Each day to school I have to hie;
I'm tired, too, of such plain fare,
While others have more than their share;
Old bread and butter every day,
I'm tired of it all I say."
I wish there were no grown up men,
Or women either, 'tis a sin;
l'll run away. I will not stay
Another single blessed day.
He took his books, and off he ran,
Says he "Now I will be a man;
They'll think that I am at the school,
But, I will not be such a fool."
It was a bright, warm day in June,
Which made our truant tired soon;
So on the grass he laid him down,
And fell asleep. Now in a town
He walks along the marble streets,
And all the people whom he meets,
Are little boys and girls. "Dear me,"
Says he, "I knew how nice 'twould be.
Now, in that town each house was built
Of solid candy, trimmed with gilt;
The stores were made of licorice,
Our truant thought it all so nice.
The furniture of chocolate,
The people ate from golden plate;
They'd fountains there of lemonade,
And ice-cream lakes in which they play'd.
The ground was made of choicest cake,
And if you wished a slice to take,
You'd have no trouble but to dig
And get it, either small or big.
Oranges grew as thick as bees,
With lemon, date, and coconut trees.
Oh, it was fine! but then you see,
It could not thus forever be.
One morning as he rose from bed;
"I do not see the reason why
Each day to school I have to hie;
I'm tired, too, of such plain fare,
While others have more than their share;
Old bread and butter every day,
I'm tired of it all I say."
I wish there were no grown up men,
Or women either, 'tis a sin;
l'll run away. I will not stay
Another single blessed day.
He took his books, and off he ran,
Says he "Now I will be a man;
They'll think that I am at the school,
But, I will not be such a fool."
It was a bright, warm day in June,
Which made our truant tired soon;
So on the grass he laid him down,
And fell asleep. Now in a town
He walks along the marble streets,
And all the people whom he meets,
Are little boys and girls. "Dear me,"
Says he, "I knew how nice 'twould be.
Now, in that town each house was built
Of solid candy, trimmed with gilt;
The stores were made of licorice,
Our truant thought it all so nice.
The furniture of chocolate,
The people ate from golden plate;
They'd fountains there of lemonade,
And ice-cream lakes in which they play'd.
The ground was made of choicest cake,
And if you wished a slice to take,
You'd have no trouble but to dig
And get it, either small or big.
Oranges grew as thick as bees,
With lemon, date, and coconut trees.
Oh, it was fine! but then you see,
It could not thus forever be.