Bobby’s Pocket
Our Bobby is a little boy of six years old or so; and every kind of rubbish in his pocket he will stow. One day he thought he’d empty it (so he again could stock it).
And here’s an alphabet of what was found in Bobby’s pocket;
A was a rosy Apple with some bites out here and there;
B was a bouncing rubber Ball that bounded in the air;
C was a crispy, crusty Cake with citron on the top;
D was a dancing donkey that could dance around and hop;
E was a little robin’s Egg, all speckled blue and brown;
F was a fluffy Feather that was white and soft as down;
G was a lively Grasshopper, whose legs and wings were green;
H was a grimy Handkerchief, that once perhaps was clean;
I was a plaster Image, that had lost its plaster head;
J was a jolly Jumping Jack all painted blue and red;
K was a keen and shining Knife, ‘twould cut the toughest bark;
L was a little wooden Lion, strayed out of Noah’s ark;
M was a Marble, large and round, with colors bright and clear;
N was a bent and rusty Nail, of little use I fear;
O was a tiny Oil Can, which was always upside down;
P Was a Penny Bob had saved to spend some day in town;
Q was a Quilted Ear Tab, which had lost its velvet mate:
R was a Ring with glassy gem of wondrous size and weight;
S was a String, a piece of Soap, a Stone, a Sponge, a Stick;
T was a lump of Taffy, exceedingly soft and thick;
U was an Umbrella Handle of silver-mounted horn;
V was a comic Valentine, a little creased and worn;
W was some sticky Wax, lovely to pinch and mold;
X was an old Xpress, worn out in every fold;
Y was a lot of Yellow Yarn, all bunched up like a mop;
Z was a jagged piece of Zinc, found in a plumber’s shop.
All these were Bob’s possessions; he loves each single thing;
And owning all these treasures, he’s as happy as a king.
by Carolyn Wells
Carolyn Wells Houghton was born on 18 June 1862 in Rahway, New Jersey, United States of America. She supplemented her formal education with an early-formed love of reading. After completing her schooling, she worked as a librarian for the Rahway Library Association for some years. Her love of puzzles led to her first book, “At the Sign of the Sphinx” (1896), a collection of charades. She followed with “The Jingle Book” (1899); “The Story of Betty” (1899), first of a series of novels for girls; and “Idle Idyls” (1900), a book of verse for adults. In all she wrote 170 books over a 40-year writing career. Her autobiography, “The Rest of My Life,” appeared in 1937. Carolyn Wells Houghton passed on at 79 years of age on 26 March 1942 in New York City, New York, United States of America.
Our Bobby is a little boy of six years old or so; and every kind of rubbish in his pocket he will stow. One day he thought he’d empty it (so he again could stock it).
And here’s an alphabet of what was found in Bobby’s pocket;
A was a rosy Apple with some bites out here and there;
B was a bouncing rubber Ball that bounded in the air;
C was a crispy, crusty Cake with citron on the top;
D was a dancing donkey that could dance around and hop;
E was a little robin’s Egg, all speckled blue and brown;
F was a fluffy Feather that was white and soft as down;
G was a lively Grasshopper, whose legs and wings were green;
H was a grimy Handkerchief, that once perhaps was clean;
I was a plaster Image, that had lost its plaster head;
J was a jolly Jumping Jack all painted blue and red;
K was a keen and shining Knife, ‘twould cut the toughest bark;
L was a little wooden Lion, strayed out of Noah’s ark;
M was a Marble, large and round, with colors bright and clear;
N was a bent and rusty Nail, of little use I fear;
O was a tiny Oil Can, which was always upside down;
P Was a Penny Bob had saved to spend some day in town;
Q was a Quilted Ear Tab, which had lost its velvet mate:
R was a Ring with glassy gem of wondrous size and weight;
S was a String, a piece of Soap, a Stone, a Sponge, a Stick;
T was a lump of Taffy, exceedingly soft and thick;
U was an Umbrella Handle of silver-mounted horn;
V was a comic Valentine, a little creased and worn;
W was some sticky Wax, lovely to pinch and mold;
X was an old Xpress, worn out in every fold;
Y was a lot of Yellow Yarn, all bunched up like a mop;
Z was a jagged piece of Zinc, found in a plumber’s shop.
All these were Bob’s possessions; he loves each single thing;
And owning all these treasures, he’s as happy as a king.
by Carolyn Wells
Carolyn Wells Houghton was born on 18 June 1862 in Rahway, New Jersey, United States of America. She supplemented her formal education with an early-formed love of reading. After completing her schooling, she worked as a librarian for the Rahway Library Association for some years. Her love of puzzles led to her first book, “At the Sign of the Sphinx” (1896), a collection of charades. She followed with “The Jingle Book” (1899); “The Story of Betty” (1899), first of a series of novels for girls; and “Idle Idyls” (1900), a book of verse for adults. In all she wrote 170 books over a 40-year writing career. Her autobiography, “The Rest of My Life,” appeared in 1937. Carolyn Wells Houghton passed on at 79 years of age on 26 March 1942 in New York City, New York, United States of America.
