In the early 1930’s, poetry recitation was a popular occurrence at many social gatherings. My mother lived through this time period and memorized many poems from Patsy Dowd’s Book of Treasure Poems and Recitations. My brother and I were serenaded many times at breakfast with her witty practiced rhymes from another era. The following is an example – and one of our favorites.
SCHOOL DAYS
Ma. I don’t gotta go to school to-day, do I ma? Ah, shoot, Ma! I don’t see why I gotta go to school all the time for. Johnny Jones don’t gotta go to school when he don’t want to. I don’t gotta go to school to-day, do I, Ma?
Ah, shoot, Ma!
That old teacher don’t know nothin’, she don’t. She’s all the time askin’ me where the Bay of Fundy is, and the North Pole, and the ‘quators. Why don’t she ask me where the fishin’ creek is? Maybe I could tell her that. I don’t gotta go to school to-day, do I, Ma?
Ah, shoot, Ma!
I don’t gotta wear that old overcoat, do I, Ma? It’s so hot, and it scratches my back. I don’t gotta go to school to-day, do I, Ma?
Ah, shoot, Ma!
Ma, it’s rainin’ . . . Yessum, it is. I felt a few drops when I went out to cut the wood. I do’t gotta go to school now . . . do I, Ma?
Ah, shoot, Ma!
Ma . . . I’m sick . . . I don’t know where, but I’m just sick all over . . . I don’t gotta go to school now do I, Ma?
Ah, shoot, Ma!
– Anonymous.
As I type the lines of the poem above, I can hear the inflection in my mother’s voice as she delivered it to us all those years ago. We would throw out those verses on many occasions when we didn’t want to go to school and then everyone would laugh and join in – dragging out the final verse . . . Ah, shoot, Ma!