Our Childhood Days

By Almeda Murphy Snavely

In my father’s family
There were so many girls and boys
That they really were not able
To buy as many toys.

So us girls would take any old thing
And make our own rag dolls
And the boys would ravel old mittens and socks
And wind the yarn into balls.

And when the balls were large enough
The would cover them with leather
Then with needle and a linen thread
They would sew the edges together.

They would take a big corn stalk,
And cut it in the middle,
And with the small end make a bow
And with the large end make a fiddle.

The boys made us girls a playhouse
Out of some pieces of boards,
And to tell how proud of it
I cannot express in words.

For a cupboard they took and old soap box
And nailed boards inside for shelves
While we gathered pieces of dishes
Broken no doubt by ourselves

The nice flowered pieces
We put on top for display
And the blue edged pieces
Below for every day

The rest of the furniture
Was not of the best,
We had a box for a table,
And imagined the rest.

When we would be real busy
Arranging things to our wishes,
Mother would come to the door and call,
Girls come in and wash these dishes.

Then we would have to hustle
For we knew that she would scold,
And say the fire was going out,
And the dishwater getting cold.

Although I didn’t dare to say it
I kept thinking oh-gee-gosh,
Such a pile of dirty dishes,
And we have them all to wash.

There was dirty dishes in the pantry,
Dirty dishes every place,
And like as not a big mush pot
Staring us in the face.

Then as us girls grew older,
We had other work to do,
We had to cook, sweep, scrub, and churn,
And wash and iron too.

I liked to spin and knit and sew,
And dearly loved to quilt,
But the thought of washing dishes
Always caused my heart to wilt.

We didn’t mean to be lazy,
Nor we didn’t want to shirk,
But I think all normal children
Would rather play than work.