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When I was very small, I had a wonderful jacket with many interesting pockets.  See story.   Years ago, of course, boys were clothed in little dresses until a certain age, and girls did not wear trousers, no matter how old they were.  Fortunately, for the sake of both comfort and decency, I escaped that fate.  

I used to especially enjoy this old poem my mother would read to me from my Great-Aunt Amelia's scrapbook, since it had my name in it.

Pockets!

S'pose you thought I was a girl
When I had on dresses,
Nurse would keep my hair in curl
Just like Sister Bess's.

But I never, never was.
Wouldn't be for nothin, 'cause
Girls they can't have fun like boys,
Don't know how to make a noise,

'Fraid of dogs 'n' firecrackers,
Jolly Fourth of July whackers!
Can't play marbles, can't spin tops.
They like cake an' chocklit drops,

Like to wear gold rings with lockets,
Yes -- an' curls.
But they can't have trouser pockets,
O, poor girls!

Bess says she don't need one,
Don't see why I do.
She says pockets are no fun;
But they are, for true.

Where'd I keep my ginger-cakes!
Popcorn crisps that gran'ma makes!
Chewing-gum an' three-blade knife,
An' the whistle to my fife!

Fishing-hooks an' bait, an' string,
Marbles, jacks, an' ---everything!
Where'd I put my cents away
So I wouldn't lose 'em! Say,

Girls can have their rings an' lockets
Made of gold.
All I want is trouser pockets
Till I'm o-o-o-old.

From The Christian Work and Evangelist

 

The Sneaky Kitchen
Web Site by Bess W. Metcalf   Copyrightę April 1999 - 201
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