The Night After

Last night he lay within his bed,

And visions bright danced through his head.

His mother tucked him safely there

And left him when he’d said his prayer,

He dropped to sleep, and then he spied

An airship waiting just outside.

He thought ‘twas his, and with a spring

He jumped aboard the flimsy thing.

The motors buzzed, he turned the wheel,

And in a moment he could feel

The earth drop out, and off he flew

Toward a world of white and blue.

Like lightning did he go awing,

And then a most peculiar thing:

The airship changed from white to black

And he was on a turkey’s back.

The gobbler flew first high then low,

With lightning speed and then more slow;

It dodged the trees and buildings all,

At every turn he thought he’d fall.

In vain he tried to make it stop,

The more he cried, the more ‘twould flop;

It dove and wound o’er hill and dale,

And he exhausted, sick and pale.

And then it rose high in the air

And dove down, down, he knew not where;

The turkey turned and gayly said:

“My turn has come, you’ll soon be dead!”

A crash, and in a mangled heap

He wakened from his troubled sleep.

His mother cried then, through the door:

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Nov. 23, 1910

Fri. Nov. 25, ‘10