Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, JOHNNY-BOY, by BELLE RICHARDSON HARRISON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

JOHNNY-BOY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ive sixteen sisters more or less
Last Line: "but a ""johnny-boy""—he counts a heap."
Subject(s): Boys; Brothers; Family Life; Youth; Half-brothers; Relatives


IVE sixteen sisters more or less,
There's May and Sue and Nell and Bess,
An' I'm the only boy you see,—
Now don't you know it's rough on me?

A feller don't have time to think,
It's "Johnny-boy, where is the ink?"
An' "Johnny-boy, I wish you'd go
An' catch the horse—now don't be slow."

It's "Johnny-boy, you're in the way,
Please run out doors awhile an' play."
Or "Johnny-boy, come take this note."
When I had planned to sail a boat.

An' if I whistle in the hall
Why baby Lou sets up a squall.
An' "Johnny-boy must bring her milk—".
An' "can't you find my spool of silk?"

If I start out to fly a kite,
It's "cut your kindlin' up 'fore night."
An' "John, my son." in deep bass tone,
"Get out your books"—it makes me groan.

It's "wash your head and comb your face."
An' "keep your playthings in their place."
It's "Johnny-boy, do this, do that."
An' "John, my son, remove your hat."

An' "Johnny-boy, don't slam the door,
Nor throw those peelings on the floor."
An' "run an' fetch the doctor quick,
For sister Sue is very sick."

I'm erran' boy an' waitin' maid,
Yet not a single cent I'm paid.
I hoe and dig and drive and nurse,
Without a copper in my purse.

An' if I want er fishing line,
Or pocket knife, or ball of twine,
Those silly girls are sure to say,
"You bought a knife the other day."

"The fishin' lines an' twine you lose
Would buy the ribbons that we use.
They laugh and call me "sorrel-top."
An' don't know when it's time to stop.

They count the freckles on my nose,
An' tease me when I stump my toes.
An' yet from morn till day is done,
It's "Johnny-boy" an' "John, my son."

Now Ma's the only pard I've got,
She's wo'th the whole endurin' lot,
She knows a feller wants to play,
An' lets him sometimes have his way.

She makes him cookies an' jam pies,
An' lets him bag the butterflies.
She ties his June bugs by the legs,
An' helps him set his turkey eggs.

I'd run away—'twixt you an' me—
If 'twant for Ma, an go to sea;
But I'm her comfort an' her joy—
She'd break her heart for "Johnny-boy."

A lot er girls ain't wo'th their keep,
But a "Johnny-boy"—he counts a heap.





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