168

[newpaper clipping]

HERE, SON, I'LL SHOW YOU HOW.
I watched him bending o'er his book
And smiled at his troubled look
And wrinkles in his brow.
The problem troubled him, I knew,
And so I said, as father do,
"Here, son, I'll show you how."

I've caught him many a time, I guess,
Floundering about in deep distress
As I had found him now,
And knowing that he must be led
Through tangled ways, I've always
said:
"Here son, I'll show you how!"

With hammer and with saw I've toiled.
Rebuilt the things his hands had spoiled
So that his eyes might see
Just how the puzzling work was done.
I've said, "I'll show you how, my son,"
That he might learn from me.

Not strict with him, but strict with me,
My obligation is to be
If rightly he shall learn.
Beholding me and all I do,
So will he shape his conduct, too,
So will my faults return.

Some day when life is puzzling him,
And sore beset by dangers grim
He stands with anxious brow,
God grant I may be fit to say:
"Hold fast to honor through the day--
"Here, son, I'll show you how!"

--Edgar A. Guest.
(Copyright, 1933, By Edgar A. Guest.)