Castor Oil

I do n't mind lickin's, now an’ then,

An’ I can even stand it when

My mother calls me in from play

To run some errand right away.

There's things‘ bout bein’ just a boy

That ai n't all happiness an’ joy,

But I suppose I've got to stand

My share o’ trouble in this land,

An’ I ai n't kickin’ much — but, say,

The worst of parents is that they

Do n't realize just how they spoil

A feller's life with castor oil.

Of all the awful stuff, Gee Whiz!

That is the very worst there is.

An’ every time if I complain,

Or say I've got a little pain,

There's nothing else that they can think

‘ Cept castor oil for me to drink.

I notice, though, when Pa is ill,

That he gets fixed up with a pill,

An’ Pa do n't handle Mother rough

An’ make her swallow nasty stuff;

But when I've got a little ache,

It's castor oil I've got to take.

I do n't mind goin’ up to bed

Afore I get the chapter read;

I do n't mind being scolded, too,

For lots of things I did n't do;

But, Gee! I hate it when they say,

“Come! Swallow this — an’ right away!”

Let poets sing about the joy

It is to be a little boy,

I'll tell the truth about my case:

The poets here can have my place,

An’ I will take their life of-toil

If they will take my castor oil.