The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1882-11-01
Ghildrem's Column.
Good-Boy-Land.


Did you ever hear of Good Boy Land,
The wonderful country of Good Boy Land
Where houses of tafy, on every hand,
And mountains of plum cake and gingerbread
stand;
Where the streets are all paved with doughnuts
brown,
And a wall of sweet almonds surrounds each
town;
Where lemonade sea meets white sugar
strand,
Oh, believe me It's Jolly in Good Boy Land.
Marbles, both agates and snappers, are there,
Common as dust in The streets and the square !;
Peg-tops, in place OF green leaves, on the trees
Whiz in the sunshine and hum in the breeze;
Bicycles roll in a very queer way
Over the meadows and hide in the hay,
While as for velocipedes, running so quick,
You'd hit half dozen in throwing a stick
Never before was a country so grand
As the wonderful Kingdom of Good Boy Land !
Wait till 1 tell you the very strange rules
Followed in all their most Aourishing schools !
Out in the gardens their class rooms are set
(They never have rain, so they cannot get weD
And there upon bushes the lessons all grow
Plums of arithmetic hang in row,
Apples of history, grapes of fine writing,
Dropping in clusters so sweet and inviting,
Luscious ripe pears tumbling into their laps
Full Of geography questions and maps,
Nuts full of spelling, and oranges sweet
With algebra problems all ready to eat
Believe me or not, this is certainly so,
And the more that you swallow the more you
will know.
Then in the winter It's like to dream,
With frozen pudding and fine ice cream,
But no more cold than summer day,
And the garden of lessons in bloom Away
Merry sweet girls and bonny brown boys
Devouring their studies and picking their toys,
Filling their lives in the jolliest way,
With dates and statistics, with sums and croquet,
For a Ounce was thing that they never could
stand
In that wonderful country of Good Boy-Land !
Never quarrel, and never a scold,
Never a cough there and never a cold,
Nobody dirty, and nobody bold,
No one too hot there, and no one too cold
Nobody ever comes walking down stair,
But slides on the banister, feet in the air;
Every one knows how to swim and to row,
Every one owns both gun and bow,
A base ball, foot ball, jack knife, watch
a great pocket full of the best butter SCOTCH
And this is the pleasantest part of the frolic-
You can eat it all day without getting the collie
Oh where is the government ever was planned
With such law and such order as Good Boy
Land?
Dolls are there thicker than crows in the corn,
Beautiful French ones as ever were born
Story books splendid in colors and gold,
Full of such stories as never were told;
There's nothing to tear there and nothing to
mend,
And every ones every ones else best friend;
Late you get up there, and late you lie down,
And always you wear Kate Greenaway gown
The wee-est wee girl both dances and sings
(You see it's like heaven, but no one has Wings
And four button gloves hang in pairs on each
hand
that wonderful country of Good Boy Land
Where is the country and how do you go?
Well that's just the thing 1 am dying to know
Somewhere, judge, in the moon or the stars,
Perhaps it is Venus, perhaps it is Mars;
And you travel-who knows? by the boat or
the train,
Which leads one direct to the Castles-in Spain,
Or some roundabout way that's not easy to
learn,
In the kind of balloon that is made by Jules
Verne,
Or telegraph wire, or the wings of bird
But I'll find the way first, and then send you
back word Vide AlOake.
~. WILL. WILL. -,