Clippings

Clippings

I’ve been doing some spring- cleaning in the fall and ran across a few things that give a little pause for thought. I’ve come upon these same types of boxes before so it was no surprise. Small boxes often made out of wood, but sometimes out of pasteboard. They would be filled with clippings. Most were dated from around the turn of the century. For people of that time their knowledge and their entertainment came either first hand or in written form. Items were clipped and stored for future use. Every topic imaginable was worthy of saving. They created the predecessor to Heloise. The information contained everything from household tips to cooking recipes and medical advice.
Besides the boxes, books, long neglected, were turned into scrapbooks of clippings. This was their form of hard drive, put into motion by the turning of pages. These books were often collections on themes. One might contain snippets of history gleaned from the area while another may contain veterinary advice. Many of the clippings were of literary items. Stories told and re told and bits of verse to be lived and acted upon. While some of the language and information is outdated many of the ideas are ageless and valid even in today’s world.
The following ditty was one of many dated around 1905. The author wasn’t named.

If You Were A Boy

If you were a boy this morning,
I wonder what you would do?
Was ever a day more perfect,
Was ever the sky more blue?
I’m speaking to you, grave senior.
I noticed you as you went,
Hot-footing it into the city,
To add to your cent, per cent.
I noticed your sober manner,
Your very important looks,
And I noticed your boy beside you,
The schoolboy with his books.
I saw—and you saw—where the river
Sweeps down to the “swimmin’-hole”
Another boy playing “hooky”—
A boy with a fishing-pole.

If you were a boy this morning,
I wonder what you would do?
I saw you stopping to whisper
A word to the boy with you.
It seemed to me then you told him
That the truant boy was a fool,
That nothing ripens manhood
Like the moments spent in school.
With the fresh blue sky above you
And the green fields underneath it,
How dare you utter such nonsense?
Oh! Liar and hypocrite!
If you were a boy this morning,
A boy with a heart and soul,
You’d be, in spite of a licking,
The boy with the fishing-pole.