George Holcomb Prosser Collection
12 Do You Suppose, III


In raising kids to take their stand

In life's engrossing whirls
Traditions forge a valued part
      And interested our own girls.

The stories of the fabled past

The actors of the play
Do more to teach and guide our steps
     Than any other way.

Now it is hard to get the facts

And pin the stories down
Unless you talk with older folks
     Who stood there on the ground.

It is an art to get a tale

And live anew the game
To have an actor read the lines
     They spent their life to frame.


To get the stories running smooth
     Steam up two old time friends
And they'll tell tales outside of school
     And finish out the ends.

Aunt Lou and Mother are such friends

And they were rivals too
Try if you can their tales to hear
     You know they'll all be true.

For they were belles a few years back
     As you are belles today
And tales of courtship, work and such
     Will make your listening pay.

Sow in the stories I told you

We all were halo clips
But you know well one can forget
     Or breathe light on the slips.

This is a chance to ring the bell
     And check up on your Dad
For boys were raised on these big farms
     And sometimes they were bad.

Do you suppose in darkened light
With half-closed eyes you'll see

The figures round that kitchen stove
As once they used to be;

The bob-sled building by the fire
     The shavings out around
With meat saw and a butcher knife
Or hatchet half way round;

The shot gun cleaning on the floor
     The rifles 'hind the door
The plans and traps we made at night
     The evening wood box chore?

And can you smell so faintly yet
     The oil light on the wall
The trace of skunk and muskrat there
     Trace of old Bossie's stall.

The rubber boots and drying soxs

     The empty shot gun shells
The popcorn in the frying pan
     We welcomed then with yells.

We were a rough and boisterous crew.
     On many things intent
Our guidance came from Mothers then
     For surely Heaven sent.

So when you hear how boys were raised
     To fall grown manhood there
Project the future years ahead
     And you'll have much to share.

June 30, 1941
George H. Prosser