{"id":8459,"date":"2022-09-20T01:00:00","date_gmt":"2022-09-20T05:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newspaperhistory.com\/?p=8459"},"modified":"2022-09-20T01:00:00","modified_gmt":"2022-09-20T05:00:00","slug":"a-flirtation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/a-flirtation\/","title":{"rendered":"A Flirtation"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p><em>From <a href=\"https:\/\/chroniclingamerica.loc.gov\/lccn\/sn85038615\/1914-09-20\/ed-1\/seq-36\/\">The Times Dispatch, September 20, 1914<\/a>. By Dorothy M. Smith.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n<p>I\u2019ve been flirting today with a baby<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the window right over the way,<br\/>And the neighbors are gossiping, maybe;<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But I don\u2019t care a bit what they say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n<p>He\u2019s a dear little curly-lashed fellow,<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With eyes that are laughing and sweet;<br\/>His hair is like grain, golden yellow;<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He\u2019s blue shoes, for he showed me his feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n<p>He glanced at me, pleasantly smiling,<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As though saying, \u201cI wish you\u2019d remain.\u201d<br\/>Then he tapped on the window beguiling<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And flattened his nose \u2018gainst the pane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n<p>He threw me a kiss for a greeting;<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He showed me the lace on his dress;<br\/>But, ah! Why are moments so fleeting?<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The time came for luncheon, I guess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n<p>Then I waved him good-by\u2014oh, the saddest\u2014<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And smiled to him over the way,<br\/>And he looked, of all babies, the maddest<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When the nurse came and took him away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n<p>But sometimes he will peek thro\u2019 the curtain,<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And hold the lace edges apart.<br\/>So I\u2019ll watch every day, for I\u2019m certain<br\/>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That baby has broken my heart!<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>From The Times Dispatch, September 20, 1914. By Dorothy M. Smith. I\u2019ve been flirting today with a baby&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the window right over the way,And the neighbors are gossiping, maybe;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But I don\u2019t care a bit what they say. He\u2019s a dear little curly-lashed fellow,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With eyes that are laughing and sweet;His hair is like grain, golden yellow;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He\u2019s [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,20],"tags":[91],"class_list":["post-8459","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-newspapers","category-the-times-dispatch","tag-dorothy-m-smith"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8459","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=8459"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8459\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8459"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8459"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/desperaudio.com\/newspaperpoetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8459"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}