maybe some of them will mock, "How proud she feels," as I pass by— I'd hold you up, straight down the aisle, If only people wouldn't smile. I ever saw,—and all my own,— Dolls are for children—ladies grown That is too plain a word, for see! Here in your handle, there could be Above my head I'll hold you high. "How proud she feels," as I pass by— [37] [37] A MODERN GRANDMOTHER A MODERN GRANDMOTHER I want to see a grandmother like those there used to be, In a cosy little farm-house, where I could go to tea; A grandmother with spectacles and a funny, frilly cap, Who would make me sugar cookies, and take me on her lap, And tell me lots of stories of the days when she was small, When everything was perfect—not like today at all. My grandmother is "grandma," and she lives in a hotel, And when they ask "What is his age?" she smiles and will not tell. Says she doesn't care to realize that she is growing old; Then whispers—"But you're far too big a boy for me to hold." Her dresses shine and rustle, and her hair is wavy brown, And she has an automobile, that she steers, herself, down town. My grandmother is pretty. "Do I love her?" Rather—yes; Our Norah calls her stylish, and on the whole I guess She's better than the other kind, for once, when I was ill, She helped my mother nurse me, and read to me until I fell asleep; and stayed with me, and wasn't tired, and then She played nine holes of golf with me when I got out again. Yet, because I've never seen one, just once I want to see A real old-fashioned grandmother, like those there used to be. [38] [38] SIGNS FOR
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