Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Tomboy by Madison Julius Cawein
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Tomboy

    By Madison Julius Cawein



    There's a little girl I know
    And we call her So-and-So.
    She is neither good nor bad
    Good enough for me although!
    Never saw a girl that had
    More real life in her, or more
    Of what people christen go;
    Pretty too as she is poor.

    So-and-So is not her name
    But her nickname. She's to blame
    For it being named that way:
    For she often starts some game,
    And, when asked what 't is we play,
    She just answers, "I don't know.
    It's a good game just the same;
    And I call it So-and-So."

    Other girls don't like her, no;
    Just because she's So-and-So;
    Call her names like Tomboy, or
    Wildcat, just as girls will do
    When a girl is popular
    With the boys and does n't care
    Much for girls, and 's pretty, too,
    With blue eyes and golden hair.

    I would give most anything
    Just to hear her laugh and sing,
    Dance, too. She is funnier
    Than a circus and its ring;
    And no boy can out-run her,
    Or out-dare her. And, oh my!
    You should see her in a swing,
    Streaking it into the sky!

    She's the girl that suits me; yes,
    And suits all the boys, I guess:
    Never backward; always in
    For some picnic, more or less.
    Take your top and wind and spin;
    Or play marbles; fly a kite;
    Or, if needs be, in a mess
    She can just pitch in and fight.

    Let some big boy dare to touch,
    Bully some small boy or such,
    She's right at him saying, "You
    Great big coward! need a crutch
    By the time that I get through!"
    And she's bright at school, although
    She don't have to study much
    As some other girls I know.

    Once two weeks went by and she
    Had just disappeared; you see
    Had n't come to play or call:
    She was sick apparently;
    And we made it up that all
    All the boys, or some, should go
    And find out what it could be,
    And report on So-and-So.

    Well, what do you think! Declare,
    When we rang the door-bell, there
    At the door she stood as bright,
    Brighter ev'n, with nice combed hair,
    In an apron spotless white:
    And she smiled and seemed so glad:
    But about her was an air
    Of importance she'd not had.

    Was the same yet not the same.
    And when I began to blame,
    She just stopped me with a bow,
    Saying, "Boys, I've changed my name.
    I've a little brother now
    Baby-brother. Don't you know?
    Takes the place of every game,
    And I call him So-and-So."



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