Page 64 - Poetry-Romance

A Song of Degrees

10.
HE.
It isn’t polite to call them fools,
But I do wish girls wouldn’t meddle with tools!
I had to lend them, she begged me so,
And just see here what a state they’re in.
She reamed a hole with the scoop, you know,
And took the reamer to cut a pin.
And she’s went and knocked the head off the hammer—
(I don’t care a cent if that isn’t grammar!)

SHE.
Of all the troublesome creatures, boys
Are the troublesomest, and fullest of noise!
I lent them my work-box to make a sail;
I had to, or else there’d have been a fuss,
And I’d sooner have lent it to a—whale!
Everything’s tangled, and all in a muss.
And now they say, if a girl wasn’t “dumb,”
She’d wear her thimble upon her thumb!

20.
HE.
Ah, not with those dear little hands—so white,
So sweetly helpless; it isn’t right!
Give me the hammer, and let me, please!
Oh, yes! you were doing it bravely, love,
But I can’t sit here in selfish ease,
And see you driving a nail, my dove.
If you think that I could, you do me wrong;
Your hands are so weak, and mine so strong.

SHE.
Give me your gauntlet, Sir Knight—your glove,
I’d call it, if I were not in love!
You’re graceful, whatever you do, you know,
But what sort fiancée should I be,
If I even let you try to sew?
I will mend it neatly—you shall see.

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