AT-SEVEN
" Now practice your piano." I'd hear my mother say,— Those oft repeated, dreaded words. The saddest of the day. I'd bang.thatold piano, Till every rafter shook, While; all the while my heart would say: ' " Why can't I read my book?" The boys outside the window Would shout: " Come on and play I" JBut mother had her eye on me. And there I'd; have to stay. Just half an hour's practice At seven seemed a year. And in rebellion.on the key§ I'd sometimes drop a tear. But now that old piano la tho dearest friend I know. Companion in my happiness And comfort in my woe. And everywhere I venture, I'm welcome at a. glance. Because they know I bring with m» A hymn, a song, a dan«e. Just half an hour's practice At seven seemed a bore; But now I only ran exclaim, "T wish it had been more." —" Christian Scionce Monitor."
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume CVI, Issue 149, 21 December 1923, Page 14
Word Count
153AT-SEVEN Evening Post, Volume CVI, Issue 149, 21 December 1923, Page 14
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