Page 46 - Poetry-Family

Goo-Wah!

‘Twas on a Sunday morning
The twenty-fifth of May,
A quarter past eleven—
A fine and sunny day—
That baby in his cradle
Threw out a dimpled hand
And said “Goo wah” so plainly
That all could understand.

Cried sister: “Dear old precious!
He called to me, I think.”
Said Ned, “No, it was ‘Brother.’”
Said cook, “He wants a drink!”
Spoke father, “He said, ‘Mamma.”
Said mother, “He wants you.”
Said grandpa, “Pins are in him,”
So what were we to do?

And everybody hugged him,
And kissed him o’er and o’er,
And breathlessly we waited
For him to talk some more.
But, sad to say, so stupid
Are grown ups, I suppose,
That what he really wanted
The baby only knows!

—(from a Victorian Scrap Album)

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