Читать книгу Happy Days for Boys and Girls - Various - Страница 45

I HAVE sailed my boat and spun my top,

And handled my last new ball;

I trundled my hoop till I had to stop,

And I swung till got a fall;

I tumbled my books all out of the shelves,

And hunted the pictures through;

I’ve flung them where they may sort themselves,

And now – I have nothing to do.

The tower of Babel I built of blocks

Came down with a crash to the floor;

My train of cars ran over the rocks —

I’ll warrant they’ll run no more;

I have raced with Grip till I’m out of breath;

My slate is broken in two,

So I can’t draw monkeys. I’m tired to death

Because I have nothing to do.

I can see where the boys have gone to fish;

They bothered me, too, to go,

But for fun like that I hadn’t a wish,

For I think it’s mighty “slow”

To sit all day at the end of a rod

For the sake of a minnow or two,

Or to land, at the farthest, an eel on the sod:

I’d rather have nothing to do.

Maria has gone to the woods for flowers,

And Lucy and Rose are away

After berries. I’m sure they’ve been out for hours;

I wonder what makes them stay?

Ned wanted to saddle Brunette for me,

But riding is nothing new;

“I was thinking you’d relish a canter,” said he,

“Because you have nothing to do.”

I wish I was poor Jim Foster’s son,

For he seems so happy and gay,

When his wood is chopped and his work all done,

With his little half hour of play;

He neither has books nor top nor ball,

Yet he’s singing the whole day through;

But then he is never tired at all

Because he has nothing to do.