 sj |
||
|
||
| ||||||
|
Share
GRANDPA AND HIS 'DEAR' (Mary Dow Brine) Can anyone say what fun there is in the thoughtless use of a gun, Which takes its aim at an innocent life, and, lo! that life is done? The merry, happy warbling birds, though roguish they may be, The song they sing is pleasanter far than the bang of a gun -- to me. "When I was a boy, " said Grandpa Grey, "I thought, 'Now, like a man, I'll take my gun to the field, and bag as many birds as I can.' "So off I went, and I banged away, with no thought of the pain I gave, Till I presently met a sweet young miss trying one bird to save. "It had fallen near with a wounded wing, and the look in her face so sad Went straight to my heart, and I felt ashamed of myself for a heartless lad. "Well, after that, I never could aim at an innocent bird again, But I took to hunting after the 'dear,' and I did not hunt in vain. "For I've captured one, and I've never ceased to love and cherish my 'dear.' And if you want to see her boys, why, look at your grandmother here!" Poem, Mary Dow Brine, 1886 @hunting filename[ GRAMPDR GG Feb07 |
|
