MEMORIES OF MISCHIEF. 
287 
morning’s conning; the younger lads especially eyeing 
him, as if to ascertain whether he exhibited any unusual 
traits in his features. The amount of money which a 
boy had, very much determined his rank in the world. 
The more money he had, the older he was regarded, and 
hence the better entitled to smoke pieces of cane, or even 
to chew tobacco if he thought proper. If either of these 
operations made him sick, not a word was said about it; 
but if a poor boy, or one who seldom spent money, ven¬ 
tured on so bold a step, he became a target for ridicule, 
and was so jeered by his comrades, that life, for at least 
another year, must be a burthen to him. 
My boyish days, my boyish days, 
Were happy days for me; 
Then tripped my life all joyously, 
In childish mirth and glee. 
I had no cares nor sorrows then 
To home within my breast, 
Nor ghostly dreams nor fantasies 
To mar my peaceful rest. 
I gambolled down the mountain’s side, 
And revelled in the glen; 
And skipped, on merry feet, away 
From haunts of churlish men. 
Oh ! yes, in truth, my heart was light, 
My life was glad and free ; 
My boyish days, my boyish days, 
Were happy days for me. 
Then there is the strange hope which possesses boy¬ 
hood—the strange hope in the future. They talk about 
what they intend to be; and how they like this trade or 
