My grandpa is the finest man Excep' my pa. My grandpa can Make kites an' carts an' lots of things You pull along the ground with strings, And he knows all the names of birds, And how they call 'thout using words, And where they live and what they eat, And how they build their nests so neat. He's lots of fun! Sometimes all day He comes to visit me and play. You see he's getting old, and so To work he doesn't have to go, And when it isn't raining, he Drops in to have some fun with me. He takes my hand and we go out And everything we talk about. He tells me how God makes the trees, And why it hurts to pick up bees. Sometimes he stops and shows to me The place where fairies used to be; And then he tells me stories, too, And I am sorry when he's through. When I am asking him for more He says: "Why there's a candy store! Let's us go there and see if they Have got the kind we like to-day." Then when we get back home my ma Says: "You are spoiling Buddy, Pa." My grandpa is my mother's pa, I guess that's what all grandpa's are. And sometimes ma, all smiles, will say: "You didn't always act that way. When I was little, then you said That children should be sent to bed And not allowed to rule the place And lead old folks a merry chase." And grandpa laughs and says: "That's true, That's what I used to say to you. It is a father's place to show The young the way that they should go, But grandpas have a different task, Which is to get them all they ask." When I get big and old and gray I'm going to spend my time in play; I'm going to be a grandpa, too, And do as all the grandpas do. I'll buy my daughter's children things Like horns and drums and tops with strings, And tell them all about the trees And frogs and fish and birds and bees And fairies in the shady glen And tales of giants, too, and when They beg of me for just one more, I'll take them to the candy store; I'll buy them everything they see The way my grandpa does for me.