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Kissing Games

From the Omaha Daily Bee, May 2, 1913.
 By Edgar A. Guest.

 I watched them playing kissing games
     And chuckled to myself
 As I recalled the days before
     Time put me on the shelf.
 I watched that roguish lad of mine
     Salute each pretty miss
 With all the gusto that I showed
     When I was wont to kiss.
 But I am on the sidelines now
     And he is in the game
 And he is hugging pretty girls
     With eyes and cheeks aflame.
 And there’s no special one to pout
     Or raise a fuss when he
 Distributes his affections thus
     The way there is with me.
 What though he kiss a dozen maids
     And give them all a squeeze,
 Nobody sternly says to him:
     “What means this conduct, please?”
 Nobody stamps a pretty foot
     At him or starts to cry
 But this will come, when these glad years
     Of youth have wandered by.
 “Just like his dad,” I hear her say,
     And note her gentle smile;
 And I retort, “This freedom will
     But last a little while.
 Perhaps one of these lassies sweet
     Will some day rule his life
 And yet I hope, that like his dad
     He’ll choose as good a wife.”

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