We hunt and hunt to find the thing
A boy wears upon his head,
But “It’s at school,” or “In the yard,”
Or lost behind the bed.

At last, at last we have the cap,
And run to find the boy;
But the sun is out and he is hone
“Wraps” bring to me joy!

We get it then upon his head,
And help him out the door,
But in a jiffy he is back,
To play outside no more.

A cap, a cap , what good is it?
I’ll hide the thing myself!
The proper place no one will look:
So, just let it warm the shelf!

(In Montreat the wind blew strong and cold. At Christmastime we hid the toys in the cold basement room all covered up on a shelf. Charlie lost his cap a good while before Christmas, but there it was on the shelf among the toys and on Christmas morning under the tree. You guess where Charlie had been…)