Two dear girls that I know— In curls so fair, That in their childhood shone so, Knows now the care And fashion's dare Which over all is thrown so. Two dear girls that I know, My heart goes out to them so! Yet not control The love for them I've sown so! Sweet thoughts control I've held them as my own so. When my own first child was born, I was called "papa." When my child's first child was born, I was styled "grandpa." This was not because I was at all "grand," nor because I felt much like a "pa." Yet my daughter's child was to me really grand, with grand, lustrous eyes, grand little chubby hands, a grand smile, and grand baby ways. She was a grand magnet, too. Since her first year she has commanded my love to such an extent that it is difficult to stay away from her. She really seems very much like my own child, or as my children did at her age. It is marvelous how "blood tells," how kinship counts, how parental affection is handed down. To me little Margaret is very different from any other child of her age in the world. She is sweeter, more interesting, and I love her more. Therefore, while I do not fancy the name of "grandpa," I am more than willing to call Little Margaret a grand child. 330 |