{"id":7497,"date":"2021-09-16T01:00:00","date_gmt":"2021-09-16T05:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newspaperhistory.com\/?p=7497"},"modified":"2021-09-16T01:00:00","modified_gmt":"2021-09-16T05:00:00","slug":"off-to-school","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/off-to-school\/","title":{"rendered":"Off to School"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p><em>From the <\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/chroniclingamerica.loc.gov\/lccn\/sn99021999\/1913-09-16\/ed-1\/seq-7\/\"><em>Omaha Daily Bee, September 16, 1913<\/em><\/a><em>. By E. A. Guest.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It doesn\u2019t seem a year ago that I was tumbling out of bed<br>The icy steps that lead below at 1 a. m., barefoot, to tread,<br>And puttering round the kitchen stove, while chills ran up and down my form<br>As I stood there and waited for her bottled dinner to get warm;<br>Then sampled it to see that it was not too hot or not too cool,<br>That doesn\u2019t seem a year ago, and now she\u2019s trudging off to school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It doesn\u2019t seem a month ago that I was teaching her to walk,<br>And holding out my arms to her. And that was \u2018fore she learned to talk.<br>I stood her up against the wall, eager, yet watchful lest she fall;<br>Then suddenly she came to me\u2014the first two steps those feet so small<br>Had, unassisted, ever made! Those feet I hope to guide and rule;<br>That doesn\u2019t seem a month ago\u2014and now she\u2019s trudging off to school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Oh, Father Time, line deep my brow, and tinge my thinning hair with gray,<br>Deal harshly with my battered form as you go speeding on your way;<br>Print on my face your marks of years, and stamp me with your yesterdays,<br>But, oh, tread softly now, I pray, the ground whereon my baby plays,<br>Pass over her with gentle touch; to keep her young break every rule,<br>But yesterday she was a babe\u2014and now she\u2019s trudging off to school.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>From the Omaha Daily Bee, September 16, 1913. By E. A. Guest. It doesn\u2019t seem a year ago that I was tumbling out of bedThe icy steps that lead below at 1 a. m., barefoot, to tread,And puttering round the kitchen stove, while chills ran up and down my formAs I stood there and waited [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,4],"tags":[102],"class_list":["post-7497","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-newspapers","category-omaha-daily-bee","tag-edgar-a-guest"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7497","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7497"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7497\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7497"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7497"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7497"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}