A Soldier’s Son.

I’m going to be a man, now that father is called away; I’ll begin to do as he did in our home this very day; I’m only twelve years old, but I’ll do my very best To make it happy day by day and give mamma a rest. I’ll bring the wood and coal in, when I come home from school, And go down to the spring and bring the water cool; I’ll milk the cow, and feed the pigs, as father used to do; I know he’ll say, when he gets back, “My son, I’m proud of you.” Two miles to walk to school ’twill mean an early rise; Folks seem to say I’m small yet—but work, I don’t despise; Before Dad went away, he laid his hand upon my head, “My son, take care of mother, sister Lillian and Fred.” I’m glad I have a father, that is so brave and strong, I’m going to be like him, the time will not be long; I will not be a slacker, I’ll do all that I can; It never will be my fault if I don’t grow up a man.