THEY'VE GOT HIM


Grandma, Grandma, where's my Mother?
Gone to fetch your baby brother

Baby brother? I don't want one
Yes you do, they're coming, don't run

Is it something I can play with,
Pass another idle day with?

No, a child will come to stay, who
We will sing OH, HAPPY DAY to

RUGGED CROSS and maybe even
IN THE SWEET BYE AND BYE, when

Old enough to ride a wheel, he'll
Push his bike up to the north hill,

Stop to pet the striped kitty
Then to her to prove his wit he'll

Read the Capper's Weekly smartly
To Grandma while she rocks and partly

Understand the Kansas paper
That he's reading just for her

Will I have to share my toys with
Someone else, and all my joys? If

He should get a bigger share of
Something, would be so unfair, of

Course if we'd no dimes or nickels
We'd make toys of Daddy's pickles

I guess maybe it would be nice
In the winter to play on ice,

In summer on an old dirt bank, or
Waiting for a double tanker

Circus time and there's the poster,
Looking for old Dailey's ghost or

Playing Tarzan in the plum trees
Willow whistles, stupid sweat bees

Don't you swing around the fir tree,
Sing in bed or chomp your gum, see

Old Tool Tisher plow with horses,
Mean ol' Cox kids, cruel, of course, as

Time goes by we'll both remember
Times both good and bad, November

Grandma, Grandma, where'd he come from?
When I'm big, you s'pect I'll have some?

I don't know, but I hear tell some
Folks say cabbage patches hatch um

Mom and Daddy went to Whitman
County seat or was it Gritman

Hospital or Saint Ignatius?
I don't know, but goodness gracious!

Here they come, they've got a bundle
Am I scared or is this fun, till

They get in here I'm not certain,
Peeking out around the curtain

There he is, I like s'prises,
But he's not even half my size as

I expect a boy to be,
He doesn't look a thing like me,

Eyes like Daddy, that's so dumb,
At least I've got a Murray thumb.

by D. Edgar Murray