My Grandfather's Strap by Don A. Landhill Copyright (c) 2000 (Based on "My Grandfather's Clock" by Henry Clay Work) My Grandfather's strap was too long for the shelf so it hung from a hook on the door It was harder by half than his old palm itself and it hurt quite a good deal more It had taught right and wrong to our Family all along He regretted that it should be plied But it cracked, wide, never to strike again when the old man died. Many years without faltering, Swish, whack; shish, smack! Bad behavior soon altering, Swish, whack; shish, smack! But it cracked, wide, never to strike again when the old man died. In watching its leather length swing to and fro Many hours I had spent while a child And my goodnees or badness the strap seemed to know and to strike more severe or more mild For it struck twenty-four when I crept in through the door drunk and lying -- it blistered my hide But it cracked, wide, never to strike again when the old man died. My grandfather said That of those he could hire, Not a servant so faithful he'd found; For it wasted no time, bringing home the desire, to keep all the rules whole and sound. And it hung in its place, till with frown upon his face Grandpa took it to humble our pride But it cracked, wide, never to strike again when the old man died. Many years without faltering, Swish, whack; shish, smack! Bad behavior soon altering, Swish, whack; shish, smack! But it cracked, wide, never to strike again when the old man died. -DAL June 2000