It's the lonesomest house you ever saw,
This big
gray house where I stay;
I don't call it livin' at all, at all,
Since my
mother went away,
Four long weeks ago, an' it seems a year,
"Gone
home," so the preacher said,
An' I ache in my breast with wantin' her,
An' my eyes
are always red.
I stay out of doors till I'm almost froze,
'Cause
every comer and room
Seems empty enough to frighten a boy
And tilled
to the doors with gloom.
I hate them to call me in to my meals,
Sometimes I
think I can't bear
To swallow a mouthful of anything,
And see her
not sittin' up there,
A-pourin' the tea an' passin' the things,
An'
laughin' to see me take
Two big lumps of sugar instead of one,
An' more
than my share of cake.
'I'm too big to be kissed," I used to say,
But somehow
I don't feel right
Crawlin' into bed as still as a mouse,
Nobody
saying "good-night,"
An' tuckin' the clothes up under my chin,
An' pushin' my hair
back so-
Things a boy makes fun of before his chums,
But things
that he likes, you know.
There's no one to go to when things go wrong,
She waz
always so safe and sure.
Why, not a trouble could tackle a boy
That she
couldn't up and cure!
There are lots of women, it seems to me,
That
wouldn't be missed so much
Women whose boys are about all grown up,
An' old
maid aunties, and such.
I can't make out for the life of me
Why she
should have to go,
An' her boy left here m. this old gray house,
A-need in'
and want in' her so.
I tell you, the very lonesomest thing
In this
great big world today
Is a boy of ten whose heart is broke
'Cause his
mother is gone away.
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