Henry Blake’s father is just like his chum, And when he goes fishing he lets Henry come; He fixes two seats on the bank of the brook And shows Henry how to put frogs on his hook; And sometimes he laughs in the jolliest way At some little thing that he hears Henry say, And dips up a drink in his hat like you do When only just boys go a-fishing with you.
Henry Blake’s father will take him and stay Somewhere in the woods for a half holiday And wear his old clothes and bring home a big sack Of hick’ries and walnuts to help Henry crack; And sit on a dead log somewhere in the shade To eat big sandwiches his mother has made; And Henry Blake’s father, he don’t seem as though He’s more than his uncle, he likes Henry so!
Don’t you remember when the ship, the pirate ship, that flew The black flag with the gleaming skull, in the fierce gale that blew, Went on the rocks? I think it was upon the Spanish Main; The sails were torn to tatters and there fell a driving rain, The air was pierced with cries of fear, shocks followed upon shocks, “Come, man the lifeboats,” called the mate, “the ship is on the rocks!” And just when lightnings rent the air and all the sky was red, Your mother said, “You’ve read enough, my boy! It’s time for bed!”
Don’t you remember when the score stood six to six, until The very ending of the game and every heart stood still? The Red Sox pitcher took his place, while not a watcher stirred, A hit, a pass, an error and a runner got to third. Don’t you remember, as you read, you almost heard the crack As bat met ball and you could feel cold chills go down your back? And just as you had but a page to find which players led, Your mother said, “You’ve read enough, my boy! It’s time for bed!”
Don’t you remember when Wild Bill and Deadshot Dick, the scout, Were prisoned in the rocky cave with redskins all about, With all their ammunition gone, nor food to eat, as they Had been a thousand times before, but always got away? The war-whoops rang out fierce and shrill. Said Dick, “I have a plan; We will escape or sell our lives as dearly as we can.” And just as you turned o’er the page to see what plans they’d lay, The clock struck nine--your mother came and took the book away.