Sometimes Tim Brooks he sees the game And watches Bill at bat, He gets excited just the same And cheers and throws his hat; But when he has his sums in school And Bill is watching him, Bill quite forgets the Golden Rule And never cheers for Tim.
I guess I’d rather be like Tim Than Billy Gibbs, but when The boys outside are cheering him It sounds quite pleasant then; And it must sometimes seem quite hard To study all the year, And go out in the school house yard But never get a cheer!
Oho! Mr. Ghost, with your raiment of white, Come to frighten me out of my wits in the night! With your eyes flaming forth like two coals and your breath Bearing fire that would scare a poor mortal to death; With your rows of great teeth grinning widely at me And your loose-hanging gown flapping under the tree In the orchard out there--Oh! I know how you’re made, And the youngsters who made you, so I’m not afraid.
Oho! Mr. Ghost, I am waiting for you; You’re an old friend of mine, both trustworthy and true; For that big head of yours that near gave me a fright Was in somebody’s pumpkin patch only last night. And out of my window not two hours ago I saw your head scooped out by Bill, Jack, and Joe; And I saw you stuck up on the end of a lath Before you were stationed right here in my path.
Oho! Mr. Ghost, with your garments so fine! I know what became of that sheet on the line In the neighbor’s back yard, newly washed and alone, It is hiding that lath that you use for backbone. And the candle that burned in the kitchen last night Lights those cavernous eyes that near gave me a fright; Indeed, you are made from such odds and such ends That I feel we’re the warmest of very old friends.
And those sepulchral groans you are making at me, I know whence they come--from that big apple tree That is right behind you--I have heard them before; They were begging for cake at the side kitchen door. So you see, Mr. Ghost, with your pumpkin and lath, With your candle and sheet, when I came up the path I heard a boy chuckle up there in the tree, And that is the reason you can’t frighten me!
A fellow’s father he looks wise Of office work and such, But when it comes to things like what A boy wants, he ain’t much. For when it comes to cuts or warts Or stone bruise on your toes, A fellow’s father don’t know, but A fellow’s mother knows.