The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1909-07-25

II csllow days when kidhood reigned
DER things,
When kings were boys, and boys were
kings;
When all we knew the world could
scarcely hold. -s-
When Riddle Cod was hero bold;
When mamma SHE'D the spanker,
And papa baked our fun;
When Dickie put his toe in rags,
And Susie chewed her gum;
We didn't scan the future or bother
our heads Of that,
But the Hckings we got from the 9TH
er kids are still cuddled up
Under our hat.
We are men and women now, and
have never lassoed the world Hike we
thought we could away back yonder
in the dolce far niente days of buck
ing boyhood. Some of us are now
Ger ripe, and others are salad green,
but we caught our colors from the
prisms of adult years, either in pur-
suit of success, or the Indifference to-
ward it, for whoever saw a green kid
in the kidworld with the brakes on. -
When bumps come green's arc
sprouting East Between kidhood and
manhood comes an increment of sor-
ry years when the lad sheds the
bolstering sweetness of kidhood for
the dirty, scaly acquisitions of COM
mon every day life, for the greenest
Of all our years are in the life zone
where the kid lets go and the voter
starts in. The raw green times of
our salade youth" as Bonnie Burn
ham expresses it, would fool a COW
into imaginary grass If cattle were
fond of cigarettes, whiskey and cards,
and the dissipation of a mothers
vigil hours awaiting the coming of a
whole pasture of green, trying to nib
BILE everything in sight that is capable
o. blistering the lives of others not
out Of the same meadow.
Youth is as green as an ostrich. and
swallows everything the gullet will
take. spending its later years trying
to ripen a punky and bug eaten core.
Youth is so green that you cannot
teach it the color IL knows every
tint shown by the lines of the spec
trum. and can paint life ablaze with
them, but green, oh, green, thou art
the great unknown.
Manhood starts in with bumps.
Bonnie says so, but she never sliced
one with a razor. and then don't we
all know 1t, for haven't the best OF
uG been over the corduroy road-don't
We learn to dodge this part of the
compass In due time; that is, many
OF US? Sure" If we didn't there
would be no one finally to run the
planet.
BUMPS EVERYWHERE.
Bumps are everywhere, you don't
have to look for them, you hit them
when you are seeking something else
they are everlastingly in the way:
they ripen one mans judgment, and
bloat the others; they I'LL one man S
head with facts and the others with
gas, technically known as swell head
cry. We bump the most unexpected
things, but who ever heard of any
one humping the ceiling OF a two
story millinery department over a Ia
dy's head, bless her sQueezum soul
What a text, One Of Bonnie's favor
ties. Only recently she had ii loaded
TO kill the men. she got her cemetery
filled and went over to the Lord :
prayer to shake out a reef in a fair
wind again.
Here the garden flowers grow wild,
where carrots. beets and onions
smile, for we are now in the realm
of stylehood, the woman's glory and
pride. It was Bonnie Burnham who
busted" the language to tell us about
II. and who committed the Unforget-
table sin of making CRATES and comic
posters Of her sisters in sun.
These hats the ladies live under Of
course we men folks abhor. To en-
nance the beauty of a face with a