A GENTLEMAN by Margaret E. Sangster

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Nov 10, 1898

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 24, No. 45.

A GENTLEMAN.

By Margaret E. Sangster

I knew him for a gentleman By signs that never fail; His coat was rough and rather worn, His cheeks were thin and pale— A lad who had his way to make, With little time for play; I knew him for a gentleman By certain signs to-day.

He met his mother on the street; Off came his little cap; My door was shut; he waited there Until I heard his rap; He took the bundle from my hand, And when I dropped my pen, He sprang to pick it up for me— This gentleman of ten.

He does not push and crowd along; His voice is gently pitched; He does not fling his books about As if he were bewitched. He stands aside to let you pass; He always shuts the door; He runs on errands willingly To forge and mill and store.

He thinks of you before himself; He serves you if he can; For, in whatever company, The manners make the man. At ten or forty, ’tis the same, The manner tells the tale, And I discern the gentleman By signs that never fail. —Margaret E. Sangster.