In my youth my family would, from time to time, drive from Annapolis up to Baltimore to visit my Grandparents. On those occasions when we would visit my father's parents, soon after the ceremonial greetings were completed, and after paying our respects to Smokey (a slender, solemn cat who never seemed to age), I would ask permission to 'borrow' one of Granddad's books.

I do not remember the title, but rather the blue binding, the heft, and the musty, dusty odor of it. It must have been published in the 1920s, and Granddad had read from it to Dad. Filled with moralizing tales, prints, and poems about how to behave around whom, it was a glimpse into 19th century America, although I did not realize it at the time.

Not only did it include 'Father Williams', which Granddad delighted in reading to Jeffrey and me, but it also included 'The Goops', which was a favorite of my father.

"The Goops they lick their fingers,
And the Goops they lick their knives;
They spill their broth on the tablecloth --
Oh, they lead disgusting lives!

The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I'm glad that I
Am not a Goop -- Are you?

The Goops are gluttonous and rude,
They gug and gumble with their food;
They throw their crumbs upon the floor,
And at dessert they tease for more.

They will not eat their soup and bread
but like to gobble sweets, instead,
And this is why I oft decline,
When I am asked to stay and dine!"

Now that my children are grown and off to make a better world for tomorrow, I reflect often on the good Father Williams, and what we may yet learn from his example.

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Eudaimonia