Little Boy Blue Eugene Field

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and staunch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
He dreamed of the pretty toys;
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue -
Oh! The years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!

Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place -
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
And the smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
Since he kissed them and put them there.


They could hear their father snoring even outside in the hall. They
also hear their mother moving in her sleep, rolling over onto her side,
mumbling something about being late again. The three were making
ready to attack, this ritual that they had been engaged in for years now.
The older two never ceased to wonder why it was that their parents
couldn't seem to anticipate these weekend morning assaults, but
the wondering never kept them from their fun. Outside, the three
cubs were making ready with their well-laid, well-practiced plans,
arming themselves with pillows, stuffed animals, blanket capes,
and a colander for a helmet.

Inside the room, their mother had heard them giggling a few moments
before, and she knew very well what was coming. She smiled to herself,
gave out a resigned sigh as to she and her husband's fate, and crawled a
little deeper under the bedclothes before the assault was launched.

Their father never saw it coming. He was snoring, loudly, undoubtedly
dreaming of flying, Krakatoa specials, and his favorite club, Louie's. His
wife did know about the battle about to be waged, and had tried to find a
more beneficially tactile position beneath the heavy comforter, but her
husband was waiting --- a sitting duck.

When the three cubs had gotten their plans set and their weapons in
order, the two youngest began to yell, ran through the door, and
immediately launched themselves onto the queen size bed. Abby landed
on Baloo, and Molly landed next to a lump beneath the bedclothes she assumed
represented her mother. Kit brought up the rear,
wielding a large pillow, waiting for his sisters to get clear before he
started swinging.

"OOOOF!" Baloo gasped as a small cub missile landed on his stomach,
but before he could say anything else, he was bopped upside the head by
a small pillow, and could only make out a small gray leg, and a bit of red
blanket cape. After recovering from this initial onslaught, he began his
own offensive, deflecting the pillow wielding, three-year-old, maniacally
giggling gray bear cub with his large arms, and reaching inexorably
forward, intent on tickling her into submission.

Rebecca, on the bed next to him, was busily fighting off her own attacker,
a golden furred cub this time, outfitted with a nearly antique colander
from her childhood years, and her own pillow, all with the intent of pillow
bopping her mother with glee. Molly had jumped onto the bed, but had
managed to miss landing on her mother, and was forced to take a few
moments to find her beneath the comforter she had taken refuge beneath
only a few moments before. Because of this, Rebecca had managed to
snag a pillow of her own, and when Molly found her, she was able to
come up fighting her own battle, with caught Molly off-guard. Molly and
Rebecca continued their battle until finally Molly slipped and fell onto the
bed, and Baloo grabbed her to begin her tickling with her sister. Both
cubs shrieked with laughter, trying to get away, but unable elude the arms of
their father.

Kit had been waiting for his other two comrades to be taken in battle
before he began his own offense, and now that they were in the fray, he
changed, pillow wielding, yelling, and ready for a good pillow
fight. He was aiming for his father, intent on freeing the girls, but he met
with his mother instead. Rebecca, on her knees on top of the bed, met
him with a pillow attack of her own, and Kit was forced to go on the
defensive after all.

Rebecca and Kit were still going at it several minutes later,
both of them
laughing uproariously, with Kit finally realizing that his small mother
had some great pillow fighting tactics. At this point, Abby began yelling
louder, pleading for mercy, her head having been captured between her
father's leg and the bed, unable to get away. Molly had tried to come to her aid,
but had again been captured by her father, he had her in his grip, and
he wasn't about to let go. Hearing Abby's cries for mercy, Baloo released
her, knowing that as soon as he had done so, she would be clambering
back on him with renewed vigor, ready to be tickled again. This mass of
giggling, pillow throwing, and tickling bears continued their antics for a
few minutes more, but finally Kit had had enough, and surrendered his
pillow to his mother. The girls were given one last tickling, and then
released, both sitting down in the bed, bright-eyed, breathless, and
ruddy cheeked. Baloo and Rebecca also sat back down in bed, sighing
happily, a glance passing between them. No words were needed to be said.
It was plainly written in both their faces that they wouldn't have it any other
way.