Mother, Oh ! Mother, please send me to school
With books, bag and pencils and a wooden footrule .
Then I too like brother shall add two and two-
And read all your letters
Like the village Postmen do.
I’m tired of rolling out flour every day
Of milking the cow and cutting the hay.
Oh ! daughter, my daughter, I would send you there
If you were a boy, my son and an heir
Stay shut in your oyster, hush bridegroom’s pearl-
Because oh ! my daughter you are only a girl.
*I wrote this many years ago when ‘snail mail’ was the only sort of mail we had and postmen delivered mail at the door. Hence the mention of a “Postman.” They are a rarity these days.