That Maybasket for Mabel Fry

Mother rigged the little basket, for I'd teased a day or so,
--I was just a little shaver, and 'twas years and years ago,--
And I blushed while I was teasing; I was young, so mother said,
To be running 'round with baskets when I ought to be in bed.
But she trimmed me up the basket and she asked me whom 'twas for;
Ah, I didn't dare to tell her; thought I'd better hold my jaw,
For I wanted it for Mabel, not for Minnie on the
Hill;
--For a maid in rags and tatters, not a maid in lace and frill.
Minnie rode behind her ponies; Mabel had a wooden cart,
But to Mabel went the homage of my foolish boyish heart.
True, her gown was frayed and ragged, and her folks were sort of low,
And her brothers swore like demons," and they tagged where 'er we'd go,
And my father always scolded me and drove them all away
Whene 'er they followed Mabel if I asked her np to play.
But I saw not Mabel's tatters; for I loved her sun-browned face,
And I'd lick the kid that didn't say she was the handsomest girl in the place.
'Tis a tricksy prank that memory plays
Taking me back to those early days;
But the purest affection the heart can hold
Is the honest love of a nine-year-old.
It isn't checked by the five-barred gate
Of worldly prudence and real estate.
And that, my friend, was the reason why
I hung my basket to Mabel Fry,
She'd a tattered dress, and a pink great toe
Stuck out through her shoe, but--I loved her so--.
Though that was years and years ago.

I sat down and looked at mother while she trimmed the pasteboard box,
While she crimped the crinkly paper till it fluffed like curly locks;
Till she fastened on the streamers, red and yellow, white and blue,
And she held it up and twirled it, saying, "Sonny, will that do?"
Would it do? It was a beauty! 'Twas a gem in basket art;
And I piled it full of candy, put on top a big red heart.
Then as soon as dusk could hide me I escaped my mother's eyes,
And I hung the grand creation on the door-latch of the Frys.
How my youthful limbs were shaking! how my dizzy noddle rocked!
And my heart was pounding louder than my knuckles when I knocked.
So she caught me at the corner, for you see I didn't fly,
--Might have been I was so frightened; then perhaps I didn't try.
When I swung around to meet her, neither of us dared to stir.
Mabel stood and watched the sidewalk and I stood and gawked at her,
While those little imps of brothers gobbled every blessed mite
Of the candy in that basket--Mabel didn't get a bite.
But I saved the little basket, gave each kid a hearty cuff,
And I tried to comfort Mabel; told her she was sweet enough,
--Said she didn't need the candy; but my little Mabel sighed,
Blushed and whispered that she wondered how
I knew--I hadn't tried--
To-day--to-day from a long-gone May
This tricksy memory strays my way.
Just for a moment I close my eyes
And see that cracked old door of Fry's.
And my heart is brushed, as the noon day trees
Are touched with the whisp of the strolling breeze.
Alas, that the heart mayn't always hold
The honest love of the nine-year-old.

I haven't a doubt you're dreaming now
Of some frank maid with an honest brow
Who chose you out for she loved you so,
When Worth got "Yes," and Wealth got
"No."
But that was years and years ago.