He scribbles some in prose and verse,
    And now and then he prints it;
He paints a little, — gathers some
    Of Nature's gold and mints it.

He plays a little, sings a song,
    Acts tragic roles, or funny;
He does, because his love is strong,
    But not, oh, not for money!

He studies almost everything
    From social art to science;
A thirsty mind, a flowing spring,
    Demand and swift compliance.

He looms above the sordid crowd—
    At least through friendly lenses;
While his mamma looks pleased and proud,
    And kindly pays expenses.