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Eugene Field
![Eugene Field](https://digilibraries-com.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/avatars/6bbfd9b6-a7eb-4536-9557-2968a4105116.jpg)
Eugene Field (1850-1895) was an American writer renowned for his children's poetry and humorous essays. Often referred to as the "Poet of Childhood," Field's most famous works include "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod" and "The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat." His playful, imaginative verses and engaging storytelling have left a lasting impact on American literature, particularly in the genre of children's poetry.
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Eugene Field
THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE Once upon a time the forest was in a great commotion. Early in the evening the wise old cedars had shaken their heads ominously and predicted strange things. They had lived in the forest many, many years; but never had they seen such marvellous sights as were to be seen now in the sky, and upon the hills, and in the distant village. "Pray tell us what you see," pleaded...
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Eugene Field
INTRODUCTION One Sunday evening in the winter of 1890 Eugene Field and the writer were walking in Lake View, Chicago, on their way to visit the library of a common friend, when the subject of publishing a book for Field came up for discussion. The Little Book of Western Verse and The Little Book of Profitable Tales had been privately printed the year before at Chicago, and Field had been frequently...
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Eugene Field
TO MARY FIELD FRENCH A dying mother gave to you Her child a many years ago;How in your gracious love he grew, You know, dear, patient heart, you know. The mother's child you fostered then Salutes you now and bids you takeThese little children of his pen And love them for the author's sake. To you I dedicate this book, And, as you read it line by line,Upon its faults as kindly...
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Eugene Field
HUMIN NATUR' ON THE HAN'BUL 'ND ST. JO Durin' war times the gorillas hed torn up most uv the cypress ties an' used 'em for kindlin' an' stove wood, an' the result wuz that when the war wuz over there wuz n't anythink left uv the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo but the rollin' stock 'nd the two streaks uv rails from one end uv the road to the...
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Eugene Field
JOHN SMITH. To-day I strayed in Charing Cross as wretched as could be With thinking of my home and friends across the tumbling sea; There was no water in my eyes, but my spirits were depressed And my heart lay like a sodden, soggy doughnut in my breast. This way and that streamed multitudes, that gayly passed me by— Not one in all the crowd knew me and not a one knew I! "Oh,...
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Eugene Field
FATHER'S WAY.MY father was no pessimist; he loved the things of earth,—Its cheerfulness and sunshine, its music and its mirth.He never sighed or moped around whenever things went wrong,—I warrant me he'd mocked at fate with some defiant song;But, being he warn't much on tune, when times looked sort o' blue,He'd whistle softly to himself this only tune he...
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Eugene Field
The determination to found a story or a series of sketches on the delights, adventures, and misadventures connected with bibliomania did not come impulsively to my brother. For many years, in short during the greater part of nearly a quarter of a century of journalistic work, he had celebrated in prose and verse, and always in his happiest and most delightful vein, the pleasures of book-hunting....
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Eugene Field
ALAS, POOR YORICK! In paying a tribute to the mingled mirth and tenderness of Eugene Field—the poet of whose going the West may say, "He took our daylight with him"—one of his fellow journalists has written that he was a jester, but not of the kind that Shakespeare drew in Yorick. He was not only,—so the writer implied,—the maker of jibes and fantastic devices, but the bard of...
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Eugene Field
INTRODUCTION "It is about impossible for a man to get rid of his Puritan grandfathers, and nobody who has ever had one has ever escaped his Puritan grandmother;" so said Eugene Field to me one sweet April day, when we talked together of the things of the spirit. It is one of his own confessions that he was fond of clergymen. Most preachers are supposed to be helplessly tied up with such a set...
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Eugene Field
THE ROCK-A-BY LADY The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby streetComes stealing; comes creeping;The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet—She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,When she findeth you sleeping! There is one little dream of a beautiful drum—"Rub-a-dub!" it goeth;There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,And lo! thick and fast...
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