Ode to a Louse: Lice 1 vs. Bedford County Schools 0

Eventually the Bedford County School System in ending its "no Nit" policy on children returning to school before the removal of all nits from children's hair is completed has never read Burn's Ode to a Louse (see below.)  Now under the new policy, only children with "live bugs" are sent home.  I suppose we must keep the attendance and test taking numbers up for our "race to the top."  As long as you can bubble in a circle for A, B, C, or D, you can scratch all you want! Yes, I know that nits are the expended shells of lice eggs but they are also an indicator of infestation of the child's head and the duration the child has been infected with the pest. Lice are also associated with Typhus and other diseases and like clean hair and homes as well as dirty!  In this decision I suppose the system has decided that after years of battling this problem they "give."  Long Live the Louse!  And I don't care at which agency or department the buck stops  either.  What about waging war on it!  Not giving up and finding the common carriers and aggressively train, treat, and transport those that are in the worst shape.  Shouldn't this be considered by DCS? These are children and those that are responsible for their condition are the adults , their parents.  If we had this type of situation in a third world country I think we would react differently. I know I said I would stop tilting at windmills but at least this time I'm wielding a nit comb!  There are children in Shelbyville that  lay their head down every night with the threat of roaches in their ears and bugs in their hair.  At least when Sarah Morgan gets them and note I said when, not if, at least in her dark black hair I'll be able to see the nits.  Word to the louse, I'll fight you with every power in me to keep you out of my daughter's hair and her life!

To A Louse
On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet, At Church

Ha! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie?
Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely,
Owre gauze and lace;
Tho', faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunn'd by saunt an' sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon her-
Sae fine a lady?
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Swith! in some beggar's haffet squattle;
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,
Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Whaur horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now haud you there, ye're out o' sight,
Below the fatt'rels, snug and tight;
Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right,
Till ye've got on it-
The verra tapmost, tow'rin height
O' Miss' bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an' grey as ony groset:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red smeddum,
I'd gie you sic a hearty dose o't,
Wad dress your droddum.

I wad na been surpris'd to spy
You on an auld wife's flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit dubbie boy,
On's wyliecoat;
But Miss' fine Lunardi! fye!
How daur ye do't?

O Jeany, dinna toss your head,
An' set your beauties a' abread!
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie's makin:
Thae winks an' finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin.

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion:
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion!

Notes: ferlie= a wonder or marvel
strunt=swagger
wonner=a wonder (contemptuous)
haffet=lock of hair at the temple
sprattle=scramble
fatt'rels=ribbon-ends
groset=gooseberry
rozet=resin
smeddum=spirit
dress=chastise
droddum=backside
breech, aiblins=perhaps
toy=woman's old-fashioned cap with ear-flaps
dubbie=muddy
wyliecoat=flannel vest.

Ha! Where are you going, you crawling wonder? Your impudence protects you sorely, I can not say but you swagger rarely Over gauze and lace, Though faith! I fear you dine but sparingly On such a place You ugly, creeping, blasted wonder, Detested, shunned by saint and sinner, How dare you set your foot upon her - Such fine a lady! Go somewhere else and seek your dinner On some poor body Off! in some beggar's temples squat: There you may creep, and sprawl, and scramble, With other kindred, jumping cattle, In shoals and nations; Where horn nor bone never dare unsettle Your thick plantations Now hold you there! you are out of sight, Below the falderals, snug and tight; No, faith you yet! you will not be right, Until you have got on it --- The very topmost, towering height Of misses bonnet. My sooth! right bold you set your nose out, As plump and gray as any gooseberry: O for some rank, mercurial resin, Or deadly, red powder, I would give you such a hearty dose of it, Would dress your breech! I would not have been surprised to spy You on an old wife's flannel cap: Or maybe some small ragged boy, On his undervest; But Miss's fine balloon bonnet! fye! How dare you do it. O Jenny do not toss your head, And set your beauties all abroad! You little know what cursed speed The blastie's making! Those winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice takiing! O would some Power the gift to give us To see ourselves as others see us! It would from many a blunder free us, And foolish notion: What airs in dress and gait would leave us, And even devotion!