You Greenhorn.

Vacation is over, school opens today; Pleasures are laid aside, no time for play; But your happy children, who the language know, It makes it much easier to school to go. When I was a child in the first primer class, I knew not the language—was a shy little lass; For we had only a few months before Arrived in this country from cold Bergen’s shore. I remember so well, the first day my ma took me To school; how I trembled and blushed I still see. The sweet lady teacher took me by the hand, And said in a short time I would understand. She patted my cheek; oh, how happy was I To have found a friend—I wanted to cry For happiness, only the world seemed so cold, Although I was less than seven years old. A boy of my own age, across the aisle, Ev’ry now and then would look at me and smile; Then after school, he came to my side; “You Greenhorn; you Greenhorn,” loudly he cried. I ran home like a deer—for I felt such shame, This, the first day in school, and be called a bad name. I tip-toed quietly and whispered in mother’s ear, For I didn’t want little sister such naughty words to hear. But after this day, I had never a fear, For she said little fairies are always near To protect little children from danger they keep, Even at night when they are asleep.