The Project Gutenberg EBook of Being a Boy, by Charles Dudley Warner
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Title: Being a Boy
Author: Charles Dudley Warner
Last Updated: February 22, 2009
Release Date: August 22, 2006 [EBook #3127]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEING A BOY ***
Produced by David Widger
BEING A BOY
By Charles Dudley Warner
BEING A BOY
I. BEING A BOY
One of the best things in the world to be is a boy; it requires
no experience, though it needs some practice to be a good one. The
disadvantage of the position is that it does not last long enough; it is
soon over; just as you get used to being a boy, you have to be something
else, with a good deal more work to do and not half so much fun. And
yet every boy is anxious to be a man, and is very uneasy with the
restrictions that are put upon him as a boy. Good fun as it is to yoke
up the calves and play work, there is not a boy on a farm but would
rather drive a yoke of oxen at real work. What a glorious feeling it
is, indeed, when a boy is for the first time given the long whip and
permitted to drive the oxen, walking by their side, swinging the long
lash, and shouting "Gee, Buck!" "Haw, Golden!" "Whoa, Bright!" and all
the rest of that remarkable language, until he is red in the face, and
all the neighbors for half a mile are aware that something unusual is
going on. If I were a boy, I am not sure but I would rather drive the
oxen than have a birthday. The proudest day of my life was one day when
I rode on the neap of the cart, and drove the oxen, all alone, with a
load of apples to the cider-mill. I was so little that it was a wonder
that I did n't fall off, and get under the broad wheels. Nothing could
make a boy, who cared anything for his appearance, feel flatter than to
be run over by the broad tire of a cart-wheel. But I never heard of one
who was, and I don't believe one ever will be. As I said, it was a great
day for me, but I don't remember that the oxen cared much about it. They
sagged along in their great clumsy way, switching their tails in my face
occasionally, and now and then giving a lurch to this or that side of
the road,
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