by Henry Cuyler Bunner
It was an old, old, old, old lady
And a boy that was half past three
And the way that they played together
Was beautiful to see.
She couldn't go romping and jumping
And the boy no more could he
For he was a thin little fellow
With a thin little twisted knee.
They sat in the yellow sunlight
Out under the maple tree
It was hide-and-go-seek they were playing
Though you'd never have known it to be
With an old, old, old, old lady
And a boy with a twisted knee.
The boy would bend his face down
On his little sound right knee
And he guessed where she was hiding
In guesses One, Two Three.
"You're in the china closet!"
He would laugh and cry with glee...
it wasn't the china closet,
But he still had Two and Three.
"You are up in Papa's big bedroom,
In the chest with the funny old key!"
And she said: "You are warm and warmer
But you're not quite right," said she.
"It can't be the little cupboard
Where Mamma's things used to be...
So it must be in the clothespress, Gram'ma!"
And he found her with his Three.
Then she covered her face with her fingers
That were wrinkled and white and wee...
And she guessed where the boy was hiding
With a One and a Two and a Three.
And they never had stirred from their places
Right under the maple tree...
This old, old, old, old lady
And the boy with the lame litle knee...
This dear, dear, dear, old lady
And the boy who was half past three.
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