12 DECEMBER 1908, Page 20
POETRY.
I'll tell it you, dear toys :- The path was kept for motor-cars, The road was left for boys.
Of course, you had to cross the path To get back home for tea;
But motors seemed the size of ants, The one thing big was ME.
Instead of nurse's "Babe, look out!"
These words I heard with joy- " Chauffeur, we'll get run over. Oh!
Make haste, here comes a boy !"
But dreams are short, and all! 'twas eight Before this one was ended.
Nurse said, " Wake up ! " and then I knew My license was suspended.
M. C. ROWLAND.