SAN FRANCISCO
PRIVATELY PRINTED
1921
This edition comprising two hundred copies was printed by John Henry Nash of San Francisco for Louis A. Kohn of Chicago in October, Nineteen Hundred & Twenty-one.
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HEN Willie was a little boy Not more than five or six, Right constantly he did annoy His mother with his tricks. Yet not a picayune cared I For what he did or said, Unless, as happened frequently, The rascal wet the bed. |
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LOSELY he cuddled up to me And put his hands in mine, Till all at once I seemed to be Afloat in seas of brine. Sabean odors clogged the air And filled my soul with dread, Yet I could only grin and bear When Willie wet the bed. |
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IS many times that rascal has Soaked all the bedclothes through, Whereat I’d feebly light the gas And wonder what to do. Yet there he lay, so peaceful like; God bless his curly head, I quite forgave the little tyke For wetting of the bed. |
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H me! those happy days have flown, My boy’s a father too, And little Willies of his own Do what he used to do. And I, ah, all that’s left for me Are dreams of pleasures fled; Our boys ain’t what they used to be When Willie wet the bed. |
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AD I my choice no shapely dame Should share my couch with me, No amorous jade of tarnished fame, No wench of high degree. But I would choose and choose again The little curly head, Who cuddled close beside me when He used to wet the bed. |
NOTE: Mr. Field said that his wife took the boy away on a visit, and he found in their absence he couldn’t sleep till he got up and poured water on his nightshirt.