soil that oughta nourish only decent deeds,
An' they waste our time an' fret us when, if we were thinkin' straight
An' livin' right, they wouldn't be so terrible and great.
A good horse needs no snaffle, an' a good man, I opine,
Doesn't need a law to check him or to force him into line.

"If we ever start in teachin' to our children, year by year,
How to live with one another, there'll be less o' trouble here.
If we'd teach 'em how to neighbor an' to walk in honor's ways,
We could settle every problem which the mind o' man can raise.
What we're needin' isn't systems or some regulatin' plan,
But a bigger an' a finer an' a truer type o' man."

TEN-FINGERED MICE

When a cake is nicely frosted and it's put away for tea,
And it looks as trim and proper as a chocolate cake should be,
Would it puzzle you at evening as you brought it from the ledge
To find the chocolate missing from its smooth and shiny edge?

As you viewed the cake in sorrow would you look around and say,
"Who's been nibbling in the pantry when he should have been at play?"
And if little eyes look guilty as they hungered for a slice,
Would you take Dad's explanation that it must have been the mice?

Oh, I'm sorry for the household that can keep a frosted cake
Smooth and perfect through the daytime, for the hearts of them must ache--
For it must be very lonely to be living in a house
Where the pantry's never ravaged by a glad ten-fingered mouse.

Though I've traveled far past forty, I confess that I, myself,
Even now will nip a morsel from the good things on the shelf;
And I never blame the youngsters who discover chocolate cake
For the tiny little samples which exultantly they take.

THE THINGS
THEY MUSTN'T TOUCH

Been down to the art museum an' looked at a thousand things,
The bodies of ancient mummies an' the treasures of ancient kings,
An' some of the walls were lovely, but some of the things weren't much,
But all had a rail around 'em, an' all wore a sign "Don't touch."

Now maybe an art museum needs guards and a warning sign
An' the hands of the folks should never paw over its treasures fine;
But I noticed the rooms were chilly with all the joys they hold,
An' in spite of the lovely pictures, I'd say that the place is cold.

An' somehow I got to thinkin' of many a home I know
Which is kept like an art museum, an' merely a place for show;
They haven't railed off their treasures or posted up signs or such,
But all of the child