Last night I got to thinkin' of the pleasant long ago, <br />When I still had on knee breeches, an' I wore a flowing bow, <br />An' my Sunday suit was velvet. Ma an' Pa thought it was fine, <br />But I know I didn't like it—either velvet or design; <br />It was far too girlish for me, for I wanted something rough <br />Like what other boys were wearing, but Ma wouldn't buy such stuff. <br /> <br />Ma answered all my protests in her sweet an kindly way; <br />She said it didn't matter what I wore to run an' play, <br />But on Sundays when all people went to church an wore their best, <br />Her boy must look as stylish an' as well kept as the rest. <br />So she dressed me up in velvet, an' she tied the flowing bow, <br />An' she straightened out my stockings, so that not a crease would show. <br /> <br />An' then I chuckled softly to myself while dreaming there <br />An' I saw her standing o'er me combing out my tangled hair. <br />I could feel again the tugging, an' I heard the yell I gave <br />When she struck a snarl, an' softly I could hear her say: 'Be brave. <br />'Twill be over in a minute, and a little man like you <br />Shouldn't whimper at a little bit of pain the way you do.' <br /> <br />Oh, I wouldn't mind the tugging at my scalp lock, and I know <br />That I'd gladly wear to please her that old flowing girlish bow; <br />And I think I'd even try to don once more that velvet suit, <br />And blush the same old blushes, as the women called me cute, <br />Could the dear old mother only take me by the hand again, <br />And be as proud of me right now as she was always then.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-little-velvet-suit/
