LITTLE WILLIE BY EUGENE FIELD

                            [Illustration]

                             SAN FRANCISCO
                           PRIVATELY PRINTED
                                 1921

 _This edition comprising two hundred copies was printed by John Henry
Nash of San Francisco for Louis A. Kohn of Chicago in October, Nineteen
                        Hundred & Twenty-one._

    _When Willie was a little boy
      Not more than five or six,
    Right constantly he did annoy
      His mother with his tricks.
    Yet not a picayune cared I
      For what he did or said,
    Unless, as happened frequently,
      The rascal wet the bed._

    _Closely he cuddled up to me
      And put his hands in mine,
    Till all at once I seemed to be
      Afloat in seas of brine.
    Sabean odors clogged the air
      And filled my soul with dread,
    Yet I could only grin and bear
      When Willie wet the bed._

    _Tis many times that rascal has
      Soaked all the bedclothes through,
    Whereat I’d feebly light the gas
      And wonder what to do.
    Yet there he lay, so peaceful like;
      God bless his curly head,
    I quite forgave the little tyke
      For wetting of the bed._

    _Ah me! those happy days have flown,
      My boy’s a father too,
    And little Willies of his own
      Do what he used to do.
    And I, ah, all that’s left for me
      Are dreams of pleasures fled;
    Our boys ain’t what they used to be
      When Willie wet the bed._

    _Had I my choice no shapely dame
      Should share my couch with me,
    No amorous jade of tarnished fame,
      No wench of high degree.
    But I would choose and choose again
      The little curly head,
    Who cuddled close beside me when
      He used to wet the bed._

    NOTE: _Mr. Field said that his wife took the boy away on a visit,
    and he found in their absence he couldn’t sleep till he got up and
    poured water on his nightshirt._