A Good Boy
I
woke
before
the
morning,
I
was
happy
all
the
day,
I
never
said
an
ugly
word,
but
smiled
and
stuck
to
play.
And
now
at
last
the
sun
is
going
down
behind
the
wood,
And
I
am
very
happy,
for
I
know
that
I've
been
good.
My
bed
is
waiting
cool
and
fresh,
with
linen
smooth
and
fair,
And
I
must
be
off
to
sleepsin-by,
and
not
forget
my
prayer.
I
know
that,
till
to-morrow
I
shall
see
the
sun
arise,
No
ugly
dream
shall
fright
my
mind,
no
ugly
sight
my
eyes.
But
slumber
hold
me
tightly
till
I
waken
in
the
dawn,
And
hear
the
thrushes
singing
in
the
lilacs
round
the
lawn.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson was born at Edinburgh, Scotland, on November 13, 1850. He was a sickly youth, and an only son, for whom his parents had high hopes. When at last Stevenson was able to attend school, he did extremely well and entered the university at sixteen. His family expected him to become a lighthouse engineer, a family profession, but Stevenson agreed, as a compromise, to study law instead. He was a young rebel; he thought that his parents' religion was an abomination, and he soon became known as a bohemian, ranting about bourgeois hypocrisy.