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.