The poet who wrote these lines was Eugene Field, and children did indeed march straight into his heart. Even before his own children taught him tenderness and understanding, he loved boys and girls. At heart, he was a child himself. He delighted in inventing games, in making-believe, in playing pranks on people. He loved everything dear to the heart of a child--animals, milk shakes, mechanical toys, and Christmas. His one quest in life was for happiness--for himself, and for others.

Born in St. Louis, MO, in 1850, Eugene never knew for certain whether his birthday fell on September 2 or September 3. To settle the argument, Eugene declared it was both, and thereafter was known as "the boy with the double birthday." Later, an old family Bible revealed the date as the third.

Field Grew up during the Civil War, although he had very little contact with the war. His mother had died about five years before so, an aunt who lived in Amherst, MA, had taken upon herself the task of rearing him. It was this good aunt, Miss Mary Field French, who saw to it that Eugene Field recieved his primary education. He never forgot the kindness of his aunt, and spoke his thanks to her in the introductory words to one of his volumes of poetry:

When Eugene was 19, his father died. Taking his inheritance of about $8,000, Field and a college friend set off for Europe. For six months they lived in luxery--then, suddenly, there was no more money. With considerable difficulty they succeeded in getting back to America, and Field set about finding a career. He began as a jounalist in St. Louis, and after some years he accepted a place on the staff of the "Chicago Daily News." Here he wrote his own column, "Sharps and Flats." Many of his best writings appeared first in this column.

During this time, Field also got married. His young bride, Julia Cromstock, was the sister of the friend whom he had taken with him to Europe. Although Julia was only 16 when they were married, she proved to be an excellent wife--a jolly companion and a thrifty homemaker.

The work of Eugene Field was unusual, and the author did things in an unusual way. For one thing he did a great share of his reading and writing in bed. After working 8-10 hours at his newspaper job, he often spent the hours which people ordinarily spend sleeping lying in bed, propped up by pillows, scripting rhymes and poetic stories into the wee hours of the morning.

Certainly the most peculiar writing habit concerns the manner in which he settled down for work at his newspaper office. Someone once said, "Getting ready to write was, with Field, a sort of ceremony. He took off his coat and relieved his shoulders of the weight of his suspenders. If the weather was cold and the office chilly he donned a shapeless old baggy garment, but usually he wrote in his shirt sleeves. He took off his shoes and put on a pair of disreputable slippers which dangled from his toes when he elevated his feet--as he invariably did--to the top of his desk. His trousers he rolled high above his ankles. Then he seated himself sideways and threw his legs over the corner of his desk so that he sat on his spine. Taking an oblong (piece) of stiff cardboard, he placed upon it a sheet of paper with ruled black lines and a blank sheet of paper over that. These he sometimes held on his knees while he wrote and sometimes he rested them upon the edge of his desk. He kept at hand a collection of colored inks and generally he began his work by constructing an elaborate initial letter, all red and blue and gold, or otherwise illuminated."

Field and his wife were especially happy in their children. Nearly every one of then had a special nickname. Their three sons, Roswell, Frederick, and Eugene, were affectionately known as Posy, Daisy, and Pinny. Two daughters, Ruth and Mary, were better known as Little Girl and Trotty.

Eugene Field's poems were kind, and sometimes humourous. One which Field himself thought very poor has become a Field classic.

On November 4, 1895 Eugene Field joined Johnny and Sue, but he left behind a legacy of poetry. There are more than 500 poems and other works to his credit.

Because of his work with children's liturature in Chicago, a memorial was constructed in Lincoln Park. So, if you happen to be in Chicago or are planning a trip up there I encourage you to stop by.

The following was taken mostly from "The Blue Sky Book" (copyright 1946 The L. W. Singer Company).

POETRY
TRIPS
MY BIO

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Last Modified on Monday August 4, 1996