The Project Gutenberg eBook of Little Willie

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Little Willie

Author: Eugene Field

Release date: May 16, 2022 [eBook #68098]

Language: English

Original publication: United States: John Henry Nash, 1921

Credits: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)




This edition comprising two hundred copies was printed by John Henry Nash of San Francisco for Louis A. Kohn of Chicago in October, Nineteen Hundred & Twenty-one.

W HEN Willie was a little boy
Not more than five or six,
Right constantly he did annoy
His mother with his tricks.
Yet not a picayune cared I
For what he did or said,
Unless, as happened frequently,
The rascal wet the bed.
C LOSELY he cuddled up to me
And put his hands in mine,
Till all at once I seemed to be
Afloat in seas of brine.
Sabean odors clogged the air
And filled my soul with dread,
Yet I could only grin and bear
When Willie wet the bed.
T IS many times that rascal has
Soaked all the bedclothes through,
Whereat I’d feebly light the gas
And wonder what to do.
Yet there he lay, so peaceful like;
God bless his curly head,
I quite forgave the little tyke
For wetting of the bed.
A H me! those happy days have flown,
My boy’s a father too,
And little Willies of his own
Do what he used to do.
And I, ah, all that’s left for me
Are dreams of pleasures fled;
Our boys ain’t what they used to be
When Willie wet the bed.
H AD I my choice no shapely dame
Should share my couch with me,
No amorous jade of tarnished fame,
No wench of high degree.
But I would choose and choose again
The little curly head,
Who cuddled close beside me when
He used to wet the bed.

NOTE: Mr. Field said that his wife took the boy away on a visit, and he found in their absence he couldn’t sleep till he got up and poured water on his nightshirt.