Booh field ccs
Boo by Eugene Field. On afternoons, when Baby Boy has had a splendid nap, and sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse's lap, in some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face, and cautiously and quietly I move about the place. Then with a cry I suddenly expose my face to view, and you should hear him laugh and
crow when I say, Boo. Sometimes the rascal tries to make believe that he is scared, and really when I first stared and stared and stared, and then his under lip came out and farther out it came, till Mama and the nurse agreed it was a cruel shame. But now what does that same wee toddling lisping baby do but laugh and kick his little heels
when I say, Boo. He laughs and kicks his little heels in rapturous glee, and then in shrill despotic trouble bids me, Do it all then. And I, of course I do it, for, as his progenitor, it is such pretty pleasant play as this that I am for.
And it is, oh, such fun, and I am sure that we shall rue the time when we are both too old to play the game, Boo. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
