THAT SMILE

I sure do like that kid, although I know

He's rotten spoiled, and ought to be suppressed.

He's boiling over with boy-nonsense! So

The neighbors have no chance to get a rest.

Not bad, you understand; just “some unlucky”

In getting caught at things, once in a while;

Yet when he does, he never runs — he's plucky!

But plays that smile of his, that flashing smile.

Sometimes when he has done a foolish thing —

Like “hoeing weeds” with our best garden hose,

Or in the rose bed “built a min'rul spring,”

He's bound to make me peevish, goodness knows!

Yet when he tries to “‘ splain it all” to me,

I do n't succumb a moment to his guile;

I'm stern, as stern, indeed, as I can be —

Until he smiles that mother-given smile!

Perhaps he does n't understand how strong

A weapon he possesses — Gracious me!

Disarmed by it, I can not right the wrong

By scolding him, however forcefully.

I do believe, if Fate itself were bent

On breaking him,‘ twould hesitate a while

And feel ashamed!... He wins without intent

Because — God bless him!— he knows when to smile.