Produced by Charlene Taylor, Sharon Joiner, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
COPYRIGHT, 1905, 1907, 1909, 1910, 1911 BY JAMES W. FOLEY
COPYRIGHT, 1913 BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, As he clattered him down the stair, And found him a hat for his curly head And called to a dog somewhere. Then off like a flash down the shady lane With a whistle and cry and song; And back to us ever it came again: “I won’t be gone very long.”
“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, As we saw him among the trees, His eyes all bright and his cheeks all red, A friend of the birds and bees; Then through the hedges and out of the gate, For naught in the world goes wrong With a boy of six or seven or eight-- “I won’t be gone very long.”
“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, “I’m just going out to play.” And the curly dog barked and the two of them sped Over the clover away. He waved us a kiss with a little brown hand And cries rose from here and there, For oh, but a boy does understand A dog and the open air!
“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said, “Don’t wait any supper--you see, I’ll just have a bowl of milk and bread And my dog he will eat with me.” Then he swung his hat on its tangled string Till the curly dog wagged his tail And romped and played like a boy in spring And barked him a comrade’s hail.
“I won’t be long,” the Little Boy said-- Oh, Mother of him, don’t cry! The leaves come green again, yellow and red, And the years and the years go by. But sometime he’ll come, as we’ve seen him do, With the bark of a dog and a song, For it must be true--oh, it must be true That he’ll not be gone very long!
Sometimes I wonder why they smile so pleasantly at me, And pat my head when they pass by as friendly as can be; Sometimes I wonder why they stop to tell me How-d’-do, And ask me then how old I am and where I’m going to; And ask me can I spare a curl and say they used to know A little girl that looked like me, oh, years and years ago; And I told Mamma how they smiled and asked her why they do, So she said if you smile at folks they always smile at you.