MANY METERS GIFT 1864-1934 Choragus Uhiv. Of California X H^ 1 tuSr^ MANY MOODS AND MANY METERS. "// ain't so much fer the polish ef a feller on j v writes suthin* at amuses us, an* gives us a cbanst to share a smile with one'n notber when we sets down bv the roadside of life to rest up a bit." The Sage of Mudville . TO MY WIFE. MANY MOODS AND MANY METERS BY GEORGE V. HOBART BALTIMORE: GUGGENHEIMER, WEIL & CO. I8 99 . Copyright 1898, By George V. Hobart. AH Rights Reserved. /^ ^ ffff 77> Author takes this opportunity of tendering his thanks to General Felix A 'gnus , publisher of the Baltimore American, and to Mr. Charles H. Grasty, President of tlw Evening News Publishing Company, for their permission to use much of the matter contained in this volume. Baltimore, November 2$tb, 1898. MANY MOODS AND MANY METERS. CONTENTS. PAGE. His Heroes i Jim. 4 Hoi' Dem Phillupines 6 The Song of the Seven 8 " I Was On The Merrimac." Lines to Admiral Cervera - 13 Past and Present 15 Katarina Knits i? Lines to Admiral Von Diederichs 20 The Phantoms 23 Net 25 Tom Bushby Corp'ral 28 In Nineteen Hundred and Eight 31 Nature's Decoration Day 34 Kfening Fancies 37 Do You Know Blinkins ? 39 Nesca 42 My Lady at the Play 43 The Fickle Frog 45 Hot Weather Wishes 48 The Newsboy's Story 51 The Mythical Santa Claus 53 A Darktown Lullaby 56 Some Folks , 58 PAGE DeGroun' Hog 60 The Songs Mah Mammy Sung 62 The Shadows and the Sun 65 A Murmur From Mudville 68 Yesterday and Today 71 Widow Jones' Jimmy 74 Journalism in Mudville 77 Uncle Joshua's Jubilee Ode 80 The Hero in Rags 83 My I^edle Fritz 87 Jeems 89 Das Kleine Kind 92 Fritz Von Snitz 94 Der I^eedle Varriors 96 My Board of Inquiry 99 Tommy's Christmas Tree 102 The Wee One's Wishes 104 MANY MOODS AND MANY METERS. T HIS HEROES. SAID Uncle Josh, " Yes, Dewey's great ; I like the way he fit firs'-rate. "I like that feller Sampson, too; He seems to know jus' what to do. "En also there's a heap in Schley; Seems like he's got a eagle eye. "That young chap Hobson knows his biz; He's brave as kin be that he is. "En Watson, with his flyin' fleet, Guess he could do the job complete. "I like to read about them chaps As sports them purty shoulder-straps. "Jus' makes me cut a pigeon-wing When they turn loose an' let 'er fling. HIS HEROES. "But 'tain't them folks as makes me yell En lose my senses fer a spell. "It ain't them folks as makes me shout Till all the villagers turns out. "It ain't them ad-my-rals no, sir! That makes the old blood in me stir. "It ain't them commydores 'n' sich That makes the muscles in me twitch. "It ain't them captains peart en brave That makes my old voice misbehave. "It's them that offers life, brave chaps, Without no hope of shoulder-straps. "It's them that works with grimy breasts En stands war's worst en hardest tests. "It's them that cracks a cheerful joke En shows their smiles through cannon-smoke. "It's them there naked, fearless boys, A-workin' in that hell of noise, HIS HEROES. "En pushin' Death aside to say, 'Git out! You're always in the way/ "A-shootin* with so true an aim That makes Old Glory glad it came. "Them is the boys fer Uncle Josh The boys behind the guns, b'gosh!" JIM. I HEAR the drum roll, rub-a-dub, dub, And the piccolo's shrill refrain; The boys in blue with hearts so true Are marching home again. I hear the drum, but it beats for me Despair and griefs tattoo; I'd be so glad if our only lad Our Jim poor Jim marched, too! I hear the tramp, the tramp, tramp, tramp, Of the army marching by; Brave soldiers all, at their country's call They went to fight and die. Their task is done; with heads erect They pass there in review; Instead of tears I'd give them cheers If Jim poor Jim marched, too! JIM. I hear the clank, the clank, clank, clank, Of the swords of Captains gay; But my worn eyes rest on the blood-stained crest Of a hill far, far away. They left him there where the weeping winds Sing dirges faint and few They're home God's light! How grand the sight If Jim poor Jim marched, too! HOL' DEM PHILIPPINES! MISTAH DEWEY, yo's all right, Hoi 1 dem Phillupines! Made yo' point, an* won yo' fight, Hoi' dem Phillupines! If dem natives get too gay Make dem walk de Spanish way, Show dem dat you's come to stay, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Doctah Dewey, doan' yo' care, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Let dat German ge'man swear, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Reckon dat you saw dem first; Jus' yo' say to wienerwurst, "Come en take dem if yo' durst!" Hoi' dem Phillupines! HOL DEM PHILIPPINES. 'Fessor Dewey, yo' is wa'm, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Reckon yo' can ride de sto'm, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Tell him dat yo' will not grieve If ol' Diederichs should leave Keep dat razzer up yo' sleeve, Hoi' dem Phillupines! A'm'al Dewey, watch yo' kyards, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Folks all sen* yo' best regyards, Hoi' dem Phillupines! Make dem 'fo'iners lay low; Ef dey 'sist to pester so, Make dem take dah clothes en go, Hoi' dem Phillupines! THE SONG OF THE SEVEN. I'LL spin you a yarn, Said the old Jack Tar, "I'll spin you a yarn," said he; "An* it ain't no tale Of a screechin' gale That yells fer joy as it splits a sail, An' swashes the briny over the rail; It ain't but, lad, it's a movin' tale; It's a movin' tale," said he. "One bloomin' night," Said the old Jack Tar, "One bloomin' black night," said he, "The battleships lay Near the Dago Bay, Near the mouth of the channel to Dago Bay; An 1 eight brave chaps they swore to belay All chance of the Spaniards gettin' away From the Dago Bay/' said he. THE SONG OF THE SEVEN. "These eight brave chaps," Said the old Jack Tar, "Sheared off in the gloom/' said he; An* Davy Jones He rattled his bones (We listened an' heard his dismal groans) 'I've got 'em,' says Dave, in deep-sea tones He's a knowin' old cuss, is Davy Jones, Is Davy Jones," said he. "But the eight sailed on," Said the old Jack Tar, "Sailed up to the guns," said he; "They sailed so well That, truth to tell, They sunk their ship in the channel's swell, To keep them Spaniards there a spell 'Twas a night in the fo'c'sle deck of hell, A night in hell," said he. "But days have passed," Said the old Jack Tar, "An' it's different now," said he; "Of the eight brave chaps The shoulder-straps, IO THE SONG OF THE SEVEN. He gets shore leave an' he packs his traps (The Cap'n he orders it so, perhaps), An* the girls fer him they sets their caps They sets their caps," said he. "He's wined and dined," Said the old Jack Tar, "But what of the Seven?" said he. "Now a pretty Miss An* a long-shore kiss, A rousin' smack of a soundin' kiss, To a plain young Jack ain't none amiss; But the Seven don't seem to be in on this Ain't in on this," said he. "Who beached the Seven?" Said the old Jack Tar, "Who doused their glim?" said he. "Fergot by Fame! It's a bloomin' shame I say it's the devil's own bloomin' shame That you can't call out the Seven by name. Come on, now, hearties, name the same Can you name the same?" said he. "I WAS ON THE MERRIMAC" I WAS on the Merrimac " " No more," the listener cried; "The best is none too good for you; come on, just step inside; Now eat your fill at my expense and name your brand of wine; For heroes such as you, my boy, the best is none too fine!" "I was on the Merrimac" "I know," the listener t cried; >u rushed into that seething hell, and death itself defied; And now from Spanish dungeons you in some heroic style ive slipped away and fooled them, I can see it in your smile!" 12 "l WAS ON THE MERRIMAC.' "I was on the Merrimac" "Yes, yes," the listener said; "The laurel wreath is waiting to adorn your gallant head; And Fame is sitting smiling just as happy as can be, All ready now to hand your name to Immortality!' 1 "I was on the Merrimac" "Aha!" the listener sighed; "To think that you should get away and stem the roar- ing tide! To think that I should see the day I'd grasp a hero's hand, Especially a hero such as formed young Hobson's band!" "I was on the Merrimac no interruptions, please; Because some explanation now will set us at our ease; I was on the Merrimac a day or two before The Government took charge of her, down there in Baltimore!" LINES TO ADMIRAL CERVERA. ("The correct pronunciation of Cervera is ' Thairvera.' ") DAILY PAPER. npHAiRVERA, oh ! Thairvera ! You have got uth in a muth; And the papers, oh, Thairvera, They are raithing thuch a futh! All the Union is exthited, Public thentiment runth high But, Thairvera, you can calm uth, Wath it Thampthon, thir, or Thley? Thairvera, oh! Thairvera! Won't you thet uth at our eath? Tell uth who, thir, thent you thcooting From the Caribbean theath? We are waiting, thir, we're waiting, While you fix up your reply Pleath, Thairvera, won't you tell uth, Wath it Thampthon, thir, or Thley? 13 14 LINES TO ADMIRAL CERVERA. Thairvera, oh! Thairvera! We have been so thad and thore Ever thince our warthipth thent you Hard upon the Cuban shore. Rumor hath been hard at work, thir, Mixing thingth, and that ith why We are anxiouth that you tell uth, Wath it Thampthon, thir, or Thley? Thairvera, oh! Thairvera! You were prethent at the time; You were there from thtart to finish, All throughout that day thublime. Tho to thettle all dithcuthion, Thir, who wath it caught your eye On that well-remembered morning? Wath it Thampthon, thir, or Thley? PAST AND PRESENT. 1861. ID vas Springdime, und der flowers Dey vare vinking ad der sun; Yust like vot day dit in Eden Ven der vorld vas yust begun. Und my leedle Fritz vas laughing In der cradle vare he lay He vas yust a leedle baby Ven I vent to var avay. Dark und gloomy vas der morning, Though der sun vas shining bright, Ven I kissed my Katarina, Und I held her to me tight. Leedle Fritz vas calling: "Datty! Von't you come mit me und play?" Und my heart like lead was hefy Ven I vent to var avay. l6 PAST AND PRESENT. 1898. Id vas Springdime, und der flowers Vink like in der long ago; Bud der air is full mit drouble, Und ve bow beneath der blow. Leedle Fritz he yust sait: "Datty! I'll come back annuder day;" Den he kissed us both, und left us Fritz to var has vent avay. Id vas Springdime, und der flowers Dey are vinking yust der same, Vile I sid here, veakund feeple, Bruised und pattle-scarred und lame; Und my poor old Katarina Vipes der teardrops vile she say: "Twice to suffer, twice to sorrow Fritz to var has vent avay." KATARINA KNITS. YEN efening comes I sid me vare I finds der sofdest easy chair; Und ven I geds mineself down sat I reads vots in der babers at Und Katarina knits. I reads abouid der sinked shib Maine, Und all abouid dot vicket Sbain; Und vare der fighding vill took blace Uf any Spinyard shows his face Und Katarina knits. I fix mine glasses und I reads Abouid dot Vyler und his deeds; Und how der Coobans for a year Vos lifing yust on admosphere Und Katarina knits. l8 KATARINA KNITS. I reads abouid dot brafe Fidz Lee; Und all abouid der shibs at sea; Und vile I reads a thrill yust fine Id chases ub und down my sbine Und Katarina knits. Und den my vandering thoughts dey run Back through der years to Sixty- Vun, Ven I vos young und dall und slim Und den some vay my eyes geds dim Und Katarina knits. Again I'm down dare mit der South, Abouid vare is der cannon's mouth; Und all der vorld is full uf tears, Und shrieks, und yells, und baddle cheers Und Katarina knits. Der baber drops ouid uf my hand I hear der moosic uf der band; I feel der young blood flow some more Yust like ven I vos twendy-four Und Katarina knits. KATARINA KNITS. 19 Den to my vife I say, "My dear, I dink vot I vill volunteer!" She smiles ad me und shakes her head- Dere's nudding furder to be said Ven Katarina nits. LINES TO ADMIRAL VON DIEDERICHS ACH, Atmiral von Diederichs, I vant to sbeak mit you; Yust lisden fer a leedle und I'll tolt you vot to do: Sail from dem Phillypeanuts isles A tousand miles abouid Fer dot Dewey man vill got you Uf you doan'd vatch ouid! Ach, Atmiral von Diederichs, Der Kaiser vas a peach, I'm villing to atmit id, but Dere's udders on der beach. LINES TO ADMIRAL VON DIEDERICHS. 21 So, darefore, dot's der reason vy, Doan'd led your head get stouid, Fer dot Dewey man vill got you Uf you doan'd vatch ouid! Ach, Atmiral von Diederichs, Vot pitzness haf you got In loafing py Manila ven Der heat-vaves are so hot? Vy doan'd you yust oxcoos yourself Und durn your shibs abouid Fer dot Dewey man vill got you Uf you doan'd vatch ouid! 22 LINES TO ADMIRAL VON DIEDERICHS. Ach, Atmiral von Diederichs, Vy vill you be a clams? Go ged some udder islands vich Are not olt Uncle Sam's. Yust wrote to Kaiser Wilhelm, yet, Und dell him dares no douid Dot der Dewey man vill got you Uf you doan'd vatch ouid! THE PHANTOMS. THE phantom sea serenely blue Beneath the sunshine lay, And bold Camara sailed his ships Through clouds of phantom spray; With phantom skill he steered his fleet For many a phantom day. One phantom morn the lookout cried, "A sail! I see a sail!" The bold Camara, undismayed, Turned round, and then turned pale; Then tried to turn the subject, and Concluded to turn tail. But closer to Camara drew That strangely foreign craft; "Is she a Yank?" Camara cried; For answer phantom laught- Er rolled across the phantom foam, Like merriment gone daft. 23 24 THE PHANTOMS. "Wie gehts, alretty, vonce again!" Came to Camara's ear; "Ve haf peen looging ouid py you Dis many und many a year; Und now, py Chimineddy, ve Are glat to see you here!" "Oh, who are you?" Camara cried, With terror in each tone. "I vos der Flying Dutchman, yet!" Came through the megaphone; "Und I am glat dot nefermore I'll sail der sea alone." And so, across the phantom deep And through the phantom spray, Through phantom storms and phantom calms Through phantom night and day, The Flying Dutchman and the Fly- Ing Spaniard sail for aye. NRT. ONCE I knowed a leedle fellow Vot his name vas Net. Freddy chap, mit curls uf yellow All arount his het. Yust a hantsome leedle fellow, Mit dem preddy curls uf yellow All arount his het. All der beobles used to luff him, He vas smard und bright. Und der bat boys used to shuff him Dry to make him fight. But no madder how dey teased him, Or in vot vay dey disbleased him, Yust he vould nod fight. Yust a chentle, quiet fellow Vas dot leedle Net; Mit dem preddy curls uf yellow Growing py his het. 26 Some folks set he'd be a teacher, Udders set he'd be a preacher Dot's vot beobles set. Vatched dot leedle fellow growing Net, dot vas his name! Quiet, chentle, easy-going, Alvays yust der same. Nefer heard dot lad comblaining Veder id vas fine or raining, Alvays yust der same. Ub he grew, dot leedle fellow How der years haf ran! Put avay dem curls uf yellow Ven he vas a man. Yust der same nice, quiet fellow, Bud midoud dem curls uf yellow Since he vas a man. Ven der boogies sounded, Net he Knew vot id vas for; "Freedom calls," he set; "I'm retty; I vill go to var!" NET. 27 Some folks set he'd be a teacher, Udders set he'd be a preacher, Bud he vent to var. Now der var-clouds dey are scaddered, Peace sids in der door; Und der solchers, bruised and baddered, Dey are home vonce more. Bud dot chentle leedle fellow Vot he hat dem curls uf yellow, Doan'd come home no more. Vare der Southern sun is gleaming Ofer lant und vave, Dare dot chentle lad is dreaming, Dreaming in his grave. Vare dem preddy vines are creebing On dot Kooban hill he's sleebing In a solcher's grave. TOM BUSHBY CORP'RAL. sorrer an* gloom on the farm tonight, An' wild the wind is wailin'; Our tears an' sighs ain't set things right, Our prayers was unavailin'. I see him now with his bonny head Bent down, his mother kissin' But we've heard no word since the paper said: "Tom Bushby corp'ral missin'." He left us here with his spirits high, An' a cheery cry, "God keep you!" An* now in vain we search an' sigh Our fearless boy, where sleep you ! If we only knew that he smiled an* fell With the bullets round him hissin' But this is the story the papers tell: "Tom Bushby- corp'ral missinY' 28 TOM BUSHBY CORP RAL. 29 We're old an' poor, but we'd give up all That helps to make earth's glory If a comrade dear of Tom's would call An' tell our brave boy's story. Did he die with a cheer for the flag that day, The flag the sun was kissin* God knows! for the papers only say: "Tom Bushby corp'ral missin'." Ah! rest your heart whose brave son died With a comrade there to carry A message home from the green hillside, Where the dead in peace shall tarry. You know he fought, you know he fell Where the sun his grave is kissin' With us forever this thought must dwell; Bushby corp'ral missin'." There's sorrer an' gloom on the farm tonight, An' black the sky is bendin', We've prayed in grief to see the light, But the darkness is unendin'. 30 TOM BUSHBY, CORP RAL. In my dreams I see that bonny head Bent down, his mother kissin' But, alas! no word since the paper said: 'Tom Bushby corp'ral missin'." IN NINETEEN HUNDRED AND EIGHT. MY name is Georgia Dewey Jones, I'm 10 years old today, For I was born in '98, All on the first of May. Oh, I was christened Dewey just In honor of an Ad- Miral who made an awful hit That season with my dad. Among the boys I play with there Are Deweys by the score. Residing in the block with me There's over twenty-four. There's little Dewey Snooks and James Orlando Dewey Bibbs; There's Dewey Pilkins, Dewey Jinks, And Samuel Dewey Tibbs. 31 32 IN NINETEEN HUNDRED AND EIGHT. And then there's little Dewey Brown And Dewey Pelsenheim, And Charles Augustus Dewey Smith And Dewey Getzenheim. There's Deweyeski Sneezeovitch And Dewey Pat O'Lynn; There's Dewey Garibaldi and There's Dewey Lee Ah Sin. There's more of us, but I forget Just what's their other names; And when we get together gee! It's hard to play our games! If some one calls for "Dewey," why Up start the twenty-four; And then to straighten matters out It takes an hour or more. It seems 'fore we were christened that A man named Dewey fought The late lamented Spaniards, and Well, say, tabasco's hot, IN NINETEEN HUNDRED AND EIGHT. 33 But he was much more torrid than The first warm day in spring, And to those Spaniards, hist'ry says, He didn't do a thing. Then, after he had fought his fight, All on the first of May, 'Twas Dewey this, and Dewey that, For months, the old folks say. The Dewey epidemic raged With fury when we came On earth our parents took it, and We got it in the name. w NATURE'S DECORATION DAY. HERE brooding Silence reings as Queen A sleeping soldier lies; His bed the heart of Mother Earth, His monument the skies. Through drifting years the sentry trees Their loving branches bend To guard him with their shadows till All time shall be at end. What though the winds of winter wail In sorrow's sobbing tones, And dreary nights voice all their woes In melancholy moans; What though the golden summer's sun Shines brightly overhead? He sleeps the peaceful sleep vouchsafed The long-forgotten dead. NATURE'S DECORATION DAY. 35 No tender hands have ever placed Sweet roses on his breast; No woman's sighs have ever helped To soothe his soul to rest. No gentle voices whisper low Above his bit of ground; No tears, save Heaven's, ever fall To consecrate his mound. But Nature loves her heroes well, And 'round that grave today The children of her fancy in A wild profusion play. The ox-eyed daisy shyly greets The closely-clinging vine; The buttercup is happy with The yellow dandelion. The violet with purple clothes That long-untrodden spot; And whispering grasses linger near The wild forget-me-not. 36 NATURE'S DECORATION DAY. Yes, Nature loves her heroes well, And in her own kind way She gives our long-forgotten dead A Decoration Day. EFENING FANCIES. VEN der day is yust confessing Dot id dearly luffs der night, Und I sid mit Katarina all alone; Ven der chentle preezes hurry To der West, vare is der light, Und der efening bells dey sing mit sweetest tone, Dot is ven my thoughts dey trafel Pack across der road uf years, Und der strangest leedle fancies round me blay. Den id seems der vorld is habby Und id nefer knows no tears Ven der shadows tell der dwilight, run avay! Ven der leedle stars are vinking At der moon vot hides ids face, Und der clouds are floading home to go to bed; Den id seems I ged a message From some far-off, beaceful blace, 37 38 EFENING FANCIES. Und id puts dem habby notions in my head. Den I hear der sveetest moosic Vot is qviet-like und low, Like vot fairies on a moonbeam ought to blay; Den id seems der vorld is choyful, Und id nefer knows no voe Ven der shadows tell der dwilight, run avay! Ven der pirds ub in der pranches Fold dare vings und say good-night, Und der flowers dey are nodding, nodding low; Den I luff to sid in silence, Und to vatch der fading light, Vile I drafel to der scenes uf long ago, Mit mine Katarina's leedle Hand in mine yed vunce again, Yust like vot id vos pefore our vedding tay, Den der tired vorld is sleebing, Und forgetting all ids pain Ven der shadows tell der dwilight, run avay! DO YOU KNOW BLINKINS? Do YOU know Blinkins ? Dingdest galk 'At ever started in to talk! No matter what the question be He never gits it right not he. He's dumber en my garden hoe; But when the facts is settled, though, He's first to say, "I tolt you so!" Do you know Blinkins? He sez, sez he, "No war you'll see; 'Tain't never comin', sir!" sez he. But when them guns begun to boom En Spanish tyrunts met thar doom, He ups en starts right in to blow; You'd think he wuz the hull dern show The way he sez "I tolt you so!" Do you know Blinkins? 39 40 DO YOU KNOW BLINKINS When them thar Spanish came acrost He give his kentry up fer lost; Jus* loafed aroun' behind the shed A 'countin' on hisself fer dead; But when our navy laid 'em low, He limbered up enough to go En screech right out, "I tolt you so! Do you know Blinkins? En, furthermore, he don't know beans; Fer 'ninstance, take them Phillerpeens! He sez, sez he, "They's situate Near Zanzybar, I calculate!" We got the jograffy to show They's out near Archypellygo, En then sez he, "I tolt you so!" Do you know Blinkins? I reckon when he's done down here. En trots off to another sphere, He'll start right fer the golden gate Whar only good folks set en wait; DO YOU KNOW BLINKINS ? 41 En when Saint Peter sez, " You go To that thar place 'at's down below ! " He'll wink en say, "I tolt you so!" Do you know Blinkins? M NESCA. Y Nesca is a poet's dream, A lyric sweet and true; Her heart of gold's a ballad old, Whose music thrills me thro'. My Nesca's eyes like twin stars shine Beneath a brow of snow; Her dimpled hand's a sonnet grand, Her hair a silk rondeau. Her rose-lit cheeks two love songs are, Faultless her tiny feet; In burning rhyme I say that time Ne'er saw maid half so sweet. And yet despite the fact that she Is naught save poetry Despite her rhymes, I find at times She's not averse to me. T MY LADY AT THE PLAY. HE play was some old fable Wrought into quaint romance (Ah, would the gods had blessed me with Sweet words to paint her glance!) The heroine was tearful, The villain full of guile (The heroine that pleased me best Sat just across the aisle!) The scenes were laid in ages When knights were bad and bold (A comb of tortoise nestled in Her hair of silken gold!) 43 44 MY LADY AT THE PLAY. I know not how it ended, Or when the curtain fell (Content was I to sit and dream Beneath that maiden's spell!) The play was some quaint fable, A story old and rare (But the only fable there for me Was the tortoise and the hair!) I THE FICKLE FROG. N a noon-day dream on the banks of a stream, A bull-frog sat one day; While his new-made bride swam around in the tide In the usual froggish way. Croak ! Croak! Croak! Oh! sorry the day for the frog asleep, For he may awake perchance to weep, Oh, Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! While the husband slept a strange frog crept From the rushes growing green, And he swam to the side of the blushing bride With a captivating mien. 45 46 THE FICKLE FROG. Croak! Croak! Croak! Alas! for the husband sleeping there Dark trouble hovers in the air. Oh, Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! The strange frog's smile seemed to quite beguile The little blushing bride; In a tender tone he said "My own/' And he drew her to his side! Croak! Croak! Croak! For husband frogs must sigh and weep, And deplore the habit of going to sleep. Oh, Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! THE FICKLE FROG. 47 When the frog woke up he found his cup Of misery running o'er; For the wife of his log with the masher frog Had eloped to some other shore. Croak! Croak! Croak! Did he grieve himself to death? Oh, Nay! He married another wife next day. Oh, Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! Croak! HOT WEATHER WISHES. OH ! I'd like to go with Nansen To the Pole, Where the grizzly bears are dancin' And they roll In a chilly, Trapped ocean With a rhythmic sort of motion That is droll! Where Mrs. Seal cavorting Wears her furs, And Mr. Seal, though sporting, Ne'er demurs; Where the wind is wild, and freely O'er the country found by Greely Ever stirs O'er the country found by Greely Ever stirs! Oh! I'd like to go with Nansen On the Fram, Where the pelicans are prancin', And the clam HOT WEATHER WISHES. 49 Is a frozen inspiration Filled with icicled elation, Cool an ca'm! Where the Ice-King reigns, and reigning Does it well; Where there never is complaining Of a spell When the mercury is soaring, And the populace is roaring: "Hot as can be!" And the populace is roaring: "Hot as can be!" Oh! I'd like to go with Nansen Who would not? Where the hot wave stops advancin' And gets caught In the centre of a blizzard That exterminates the sizzard On the spot! Where the mercury's retiring Coy and shy; Where Old Sol is never firing Up the sky; 50 HOT WEATHER WISHES. Where the ice-man and the plumber Aren't Moguls of the summer Days that fry Aren't Moguls of the summer Days that fry! Oh! I'd like to be a blooming Esquimault, All his frozen airs assuming, Don't you knault! Then farewell to moods so melting, With a snowball I'd be pelting Every wault! All of Greenland's icy mountains I would do; Drinking drinks that frozen fountains Only brew. There I know they'd ne'er be trottin' Out that query, "Is it hot en- Ough for you?" Out that query, "Is it hot en- Ough for you?" THE NEWSBOY'S STORY. SAY, Mister, buy de ev'nin' paper, wil'e ? Me mudder's sick, an' fodder's Got a t'irst. If I don't stake him, say! he'll knock me silly, Dat's w'at he does if I don't See him first. Dat's right! me mudder's sick, an' little sister Has got de worstest pains You ever see, 'Cause she fell on de stove an' raised a blister T'anks, Mister! W'at! A dime! Well, hully gee!" A little face, so woe-begone and tearful; A head of curly locks In wild dismay; A little voice, so frightened and so fearful; And eyes that seemed to mourn A happy day. 52 THE NEWSBOY'S STORY. A little coat, so patched up and so tattered; A hat whose brim the night winds Seemed to sway; A little hand, with mud and grime bespattered- Ah! churlish were my soul To say him nay! Anon, when night had grown more melancholy, With thoughtful mien I homeward Slowly trudged; The earth seemed full of vanity and folly By that poor little outcast's Story judged. "Poor heart!" I said, "his life in woe is dawning; Within his dreary future Lies, perhaps" I paused, for surely, there beneath an awning, I saw the little rascal Shooting craps! THE MYTHICAL SANTA CLAUS I AIN'T much more'n seven, an' still I knows a lot ; But dis here game of Chris'mas, be-jee! it's got me caught! I heard de kids a'chewin' de rag about a guy Wat tum'les down de chimbley w'en no one else ain't nigh, Wit' baskets full of candy, an' udder t'ings like dat I t'ink dem kids was on'y conwersin' trew dare hat! 'Cause we has got a chimbley, an' a roof dat's open, too; But no old guy wit' candy ain't never yet come trew! Me frien', dat's Swipes McGoogin, he tolt me to me teet' Dat dem w'at hangs up stockin's is Sandy Clawses meat. So I believes McGoogin, an' chases home to Mame Mame is me little sister, wat's awful weak an' lame 53 54 THE MYTHICAL SANTA CLAUS. An* den I says to Mamie, "Say, Sis, we's,got a cinch! We jist hangs up our stockin's, an' Santa Claus'll pinch A lot of presents fer us de fines' in de land! An* w'en we wakes tumorrer we eats to beat de band!" Jee! Mame was tickelt crazy but Mudder on'y cried; Poor Mudder can't help t'inkin' of de time w'en Fad- der died. So Mame she ups an' patches her stockin's wit' a rag; An' me, not havin' any, gets Pop's old carpet-bag. An' dare, 'long side de chimbley, wit' de stars a'shinin' down, We hangs dem up an' waits fer His Nibs to come aroun'; But bimeby I gets sleepy, an' de last t'ing dat I sees Is Mudder be de chimbley, a'prayin' on her knees. Me Mudder was a'sobbin' an' moanin' in her sleep, W'en I gets up an' chases fer de gif's to take a peep; It was early in de mornin', an' Mamie's sleepin' yet, W'en I looks into her stockin's to see w'at did she get. Jee! but dat guy was frosty! Ain't nuttin' dare escept One little wormy apple w'at no one else'd kept. THE MYTHICAL SANTA CLAUS. 55 An* in Pop's carpet-bag dare's not a single t'ing in sight Say! I was up ag'inst it fer certain now, dat's right! Wen I ups an' tells McGoogin dat he gets me in a hole Be tellin' me dat Sandy Claws is such a good old soul, McGoogin says, says he, "I tried to work de racket, too; But I got de half of nuttin', jist de same, be jee, as you!" So I t'ink dat folks is on'y conwersin' trew dare hat Wen dey says a guy goes roun' wit' gif's an' udder t'ings like dat, 'Cause me an' Mamie tried it, an' all we got to show Is a wormy little apple w'at hadn't time to grow! A DARKTOW'N LULLABY. SLEEP time, mah honey ! evenin' shadows fallin', Sun sinkin' down in'a skies; Sand Man done reckons time now fo' callin' Close yo' li'l coal black eyes! Close dem, mah honey! Sand Man won't lub yo' Ef yo' 'sists to chattah dataway; Yander he's callin'! "Derry dum! derry dum! derry ditty ditty dum!" Dat's what'a Sand Man say! Sleep time, mah honey! shadows am creepin', Creepin' up aroun'a cabin do'; Down in'a meadow dem bullfrogs am weepin', Weepin' kase de sunlight had to go. Sand Man am walkin', sweet dreams he's bringin'- Doan' yo' blink dem li'l eyes dat way! Yander he's singin'! "Derry dum! derry dum! derry ditty ditty dum!" Dat's what'a Sand Man say! A DARKTOWN LULLABY. 57 Sleep time, mah honey! shadows done foun' yo', Foun' yo' an' yo' ol' Mammy, too! Whippo'will am singin', singin' all aroun' yo', Dess a sweet good night he means fo' yo'! Sand Man! How do, suh! li'l one am ready, Ready fo' to dream'a night erway; Chune up yo' singin'! "Derry dum! derry dum! deny ditty ditty dum!" Dat's what' a Sand Man say! SOME FOLKS. SOME folks is always moanin' 'Cause somefin' done gone wrong; En er dismal so't of groanin' Makes up dah life-long song. Doan' nevah see no beauty Reflected from on high; Jus' reckons it dah duty To sigh, sigh, sigh! Den, it's grum'le, grum'le, grum'le! Grum'le all de day. Doan' nevah try Fo' to look at de sky, Dess grum'le dah life erway. Some folks is always frettin' 'Cause dey has so much woe, En all de time fo'gettin' Dey mos'ly makes it so. SOME FOLKS. 59 Ef dey ain't got no worries Which dey kin call dah own, Dey catches someone elses, En moan, moan, moan. Den, it's grum'le, grum'le, grum'le! Grum'le all de day. Doan' nevah try Fo' to look at de sky, Dess grum'le dah life erway. Some folks dey always grum'les About dishyer en dat; Dey dess sits roun' en mum'les, En wonders where dey's at. Wakes airly in de mawnin', En feels jus' laik dey mus' Begin right wif de dawnin' To fuss, fuss, fuss. Den, it's grum'le, grum'le, grum'le! Grum'le all de day. Doan' nevah try Fo' to look at de sky, Dess grum'le dah life erway. DE GROUN'HOG. DE Groun'hog rub his eyes an* woke Good mawnin'! How d' do! He grab his pipe to took a smoke Good mawnin'! How d' do! He brush his wooly head a pile; He cul'lyvate a happy smile; An' den he walk eroun' a while Good mawnin'! How d' do! Mistah Groun'hog brush his clo'es; Mistah Groun'hog smile and say: "I reckon I mus' go an' Look at de sun To see do my shadder lay!" De Groun'hog strollin' down de road Good mawnin'! How d' do! De spruce trees rollin' wif dah load Good mawnin'! How d' do! DE GROUN'HOG. 61 De ribbers friz up in dah bed; De snow bird perk his li'l head; De rabbits squeakin' to be fed Good mawnin'! How d' do! Mistah Groun'hog look aroun'; Mistah Groun'hog smile and say: "I reckon it am time fo' To look at de sky, Kase I ain't got long to stay!" De Groun'hog brush his specs an' smile Good mawnin'! How d' do! An* den he rub his eyes er while Good mawnin'! How d' do! Den he raise his head up to de sky, An' slowly wink his othah eye Did he see de sun! let him reply! Good mawnin'! How d' do! Mistah Groun'hog blink an* wink; Mistah Groun'hog smile and say: "Dar'll be er lot ob climate 'Roun' hyar putty soon, Ef dis weather doan' go erway!" THE SONGS MAH MAMMY SUNG. W'EN cle worl' am full ob sadness, 'N* de light done gone erway; Wen all de joy V gladness Hab lef me far to stray ; Wen de wind its sighs am tunin', 'N' mah heart wif grief am wrung, Dat's de time I gits to croonin' De songs mah Mammy sung: "Rockerby! rockerby On de tree top; Wen de wind blows De cradle will rock! Rockerby! rockerby! Nuffin' to fear; Hoodoo kain't kotch yo', Fo' Mammy is here!" THE SONGS MAH MAMMY SUNG. 63 Wen all mah frien's fo'sake me, 'N' dahkness fills de earf; Wen misery done make me Close tight de gates of mirf ; Wen solyum bells am ringin', An' mah po' heart's unstrung, Dat's w'en I gits to singin' De songs mah Mammy sung: "Go to sleep, Mah leetle pickaninny! Close yo' coal-black eyes, 'N' de angels Come to meet yo' Yas, de angels Sho' to greet yo', Yander in de skies!" Wen de sun's behin' de mountain, 'N' it's night-time in mah soul; W'en troubles beyon' countin' Erbout me su'ge 'n' roll; 64 THE SONGS MAH MAMMY SUNG. Wen de shadows keep er comin' Until de tears am brung, Dat's w'en I gits to hummin* De songs mah Mammy sung: "Doan' yo' cry, mah babby Doan' yo' cry! Yo' be er ge'man Fo' yo' die! Close yo' eyes, mah babby Doan 1 yo' cry! Gwin'er see de sunshine By 'n' bye!" THE SHADOWS AND THE SUN. WAS sittin' in de the-ayter, an* heard an actor say Some words that seemed to grab me like, an' linger dat away. It was dess a small remahk he made afo' de play was done: "Remember dat de shadows prove de presence of de sun!" Dess smile a li'l, airly in de mawnin'l De good Lawd made a mountains, and He made a val- leys, too; He made a blue sky overhead, He made a light shine frew; An' den He dess set down an' made a clouds 'fore He was done "Remember dat de shadows prove de presence of de sun!" Dess smile a li'l, airly in de mawnin'I 65 66 THE SHADOWS AND THE SUN. De good Lawd made a flowers, an' He made a bum'le bees; He let the lovely light shine down an' paint wif green a trees, An' den He sent de rain clouds so de roots could have some fun "Remember dat de shadows prove de presence of de sunl" Dess smile a li'l, airly in de mawnin'! It ain't no use to worry when a sto'm clouds cross yo' skies; Ef all a time was sunny bright mos' likely hu't ouah eyes. De good Lawd knew His business when dis worl' He made to run "Remember dat de shadows prove de presence of de sun!" Dess smile a li'l, airly in de mawnin'! Some folks dey gets to frettin' an' a-sobbin' right er- way When er li'l cloud it rises on de brightness of dah day; Doan' nevah stop to figure dat de dahkness soon be done, THE SHADOWS AND THE SUN. 67 En fo'gets dat de shadows prove de presence of de sun, Dess groans a li'l, airly in de mawnin'I De good Lawd made a sunlight, an' He made a shad- ows, too; He tied 'em all together in a bag fo' me an' yo'; An' dat man's mos' contented when his time below am done What has 'membered dat de shadows prove de presence of de sun An' smiled a li'l, airly in de mawnin'! A MURMUR FROM MUDVILLE. THERE'S been the dingdest earthquake in what's called our social status; All the gals we called "our ownest" now they scarcely will look at us! We have plenty faith in beauty, but we have no place to pin it, For the gals make no concealment of the fact that we ain't in it Since them volunteers came home From Santiago ! Through the spring and through the summer days, we scarcely need to mention, We took those gals to picnics and we showed 'em much attention; And they cheerfully attended ev'ry dance held in their honor, 68 A MURMUR FROM MUDVILLE. 69 But there's something seems to whisper to us each, "Oh! you're a goner!" Since them volunteers came home From Santiago ! Of course we don't belittle all the yarns them lads are tellin', How they stormed the hills of Cuba with the Spaniards round them yellin'; But what hurts us is to notice Sal and Jane and Sue and others All a-huggin' them, doggone it! just the same as they were brothers Since them volunteers came home From Santiago! Course, our motives they is honest, and you mustn't misconstrue 'em; Let them fighters have the glory, let them have all that is due 'em But it does seem kind of meanish, and it makes our voices husky 70 A MURMUR FROM MUDVILLE. When we think the gals that loved us hard should throw us down 'McCloskey Since them volunteers came home From Santiago! YESTERDAY AND TODAY. SEEMS like 'twuz only yistiddy I helped sweet Mandy make The stuffin' fer the turkey, an' the big Thanksgivin' cake. Seems on'y yistiddy we sat 'longside the blazin' logs, My Mandy in her gingham frock, an* me in Sunday togs, An' thar discussed the future, while the sparks about us flew, A'promisin' each other that we'd be forever true. But now, I'm weary longin' fer a face I never see These holidays is tearful times fer old, old folks like me. Seems like 'twuz on'y yistiddy we sung our love's re- frain, A'walkin' whar the autumn leaves wuz scattered roun' the lane. Seems on'y yistiddy we sat together on the stile, 71 72 YESTERDAY AND TODAY. Me floatin' through life's dearest dream, a'baskin' in her smile. The clouds wuz painted crimson whar the sun sank in the west, An* all the world was jus* a place whar love lulled me to rest. But now the sky is gray, and cold the wind blows 'crost the lea These holidays is tearful times fer old, old folks like me. Seems like t'wuz on'y yistiddy we heerd the parson pray, An* offer up his meed of praise upon Thanksgivin' day. Seems on'y yistiddy we sat thar in sweet Mandy's pew, A'squeezin' of each other's hands, which same meant, "I love you." I hear that old melodyum a'wheezin' in the loft, An' "Rock of Ages" floatin' roun', so solem-like, an' soft But now the church has crumbled, 'till thar's nothin' left to see These holidays is tearful times fer old, old folks like me. YESTERDAY AND TODAY. 73 Seems like 'twuz on'y yistiddy I led her to our home, An* thar from happiness supreme we never thought to roam. Seems on'y yistiddy us two, together hand in hand, Set out on life's broad road that leads unto a happier land. I hear her whisperin' to me yet, " 'Till death us two will part, I'll comfort you in weal or woe, and love you, my sweetheart!" But now a lonely grave is all these eyes of mine can see These holidays is tearful times fer old, old folks like me. WIDOW JONES' JIMMY. GOIN' to the deppo'? Everybody is! Takin' a vacation From our daily biz. Togged in finest feathers; Know what it is for? Widow Jones' Jimmy Comin' home from war. Mudville's all excited, Holiday declared; Everybody loafin', Best suits gettin' aired. Cornet band is tootin', Ready for to play: Widow Jones' Jimmy Comin' home today. 74 WIDOW JONES' JIMMY. 75 Jimmy's been in Cuba, Made a record there; Proved himself a hero, Papers all declare. Nothin' here in Mudville Ain't too good for him, Greater man than Hobson- Widow Jones' Jim. 'Fore he went to Cuba People used to say: "Never 'mount to nothin'; Allus be a jay!" Used to be so lazy, So his neighbors said, Didn't want to carry Good sense in his head. 'Fore he went to Cuba Neighbors would remark: "Hate to meet that feller, 'Specially after dark!" WIDOW JONES JIMMY. Socially neglected Almost ev'ry where; W'hat he did or didn't No one seemed to care. When the country called for Volunteers we heard, But we was so busy No one ever stirred, 'Cept the Widow's Jimmy, He was heard to say: "Mudville must be in it! So, I'm off! Good day!" Goin' to the deppo'? Everybody's there! All the village people; Folks from ev'rywhere, Dressed up in their finest; Know What it is for? Widow Jones' Jimmy Comin' home from war JOURNALISM IN MUDVILLE. GIT me my slippers, Marthy, I'm through with all my chores; Git at yer knittin', Marthy, An' put th' cat out doors. Close up th' windy shetters, An' poke th' log ablaze, I'll read th' Weekly Bugle An' see what's new these days. "The Bugle says here, Marthy, That Squire Wiggin's cow Hez swallyed of a turnip, An' choked itse'f somehow; Th' Perkinses is hevin' Tarnation cats to pay Th' Bugle says as twinses Is visitin' their way. 77 78 JOURNALISM IN MUDVILLE. "The Bugle says here, Marthy, That Lijah Smithers' barn Is ha'nted now by speerits Ain't that a awful yarn? An' Lemuel Quiggin's heifer Is locked up in the pound, An' Lem, hisself uncarin', Is galavantin' round. "An* here it says Doc Squiggles Hez sold his furnityure, An' gone up to th' city To take th' Keeley cure. An' Liza Bell McFadden, A widder jist a year, Is goin' to marry Muggins, Th' travelin' auctioneer! "Bill Perkins' daughter, Myrtle, Hez got th' scarlet rash; An' Jedidiah Jimpson Is raisin' a moustache! JOURNALISM IN MUDVILLE. 79 Th' sewin' circle wimmen Hez had another spat; An' Obidiah Wiggins Hez lost his Thomas cat! "Josiah Tibbitt's daughter Is tendin' singin' school; Bill Duff is to be married He allus was a fool! An' here tarnation crickets! That settles it; I'm done Th' Bugle hez discovered Thar's black spots on th' sun! "'B'gosh, all hemlock! Marthy, Th' Bugle's cuttin' capers, An' follerin' in the footsteps Of them 'ere city papers. Ain't nuthin' in it lately But jist sensation'lism Th' Bugle's gone an' done it! It's yaller journalism!" UNCLE JOSHUA'S JUBILEE ODE. B'EN readin' in the papers about the good old Queen, An* as how her celebrashun is the finest ever seen. Big crowds hez crossed the ocean to see the mighty show, An' others is lamentin' a'cause they couldn't go. I reckon 'tis a treat fer to observe a jubilee But the Stars and Stripes ferever they is good enough fer me! B'en readin' how as Dukeses from all them furrin lands Is there, as well as Princes from Injia's coral strands; There's Markises an' Earlses, an' big guns by the score, A'bowin' an' a'scrapin', an' a'bendin' to the floor. It's mighty fine, I reckon, to 'tend a jubilee But the Stars and Stripes ferever they is good enough fer me! 80 UNCLE JOSHUA'S JUBILEE ODE. 81 I hears as how theres sojers with uniforms so gay That London needs no sunshine to brighten up the day; From Halifax an' Cape Town the troops come march- in* in, An' everythin' is slicker than a brand-new safety pin. It's might peart an' perky at a fuss-class jubilee But the Stars and Stripes ferever they is good enough fer me! I hears as how the lion is a'roarin' mighty loud; An' the unycorn a'standin' on his horn, he feels that proud; They tells me Rule Britannia is a'rulin' where it's wet; An' the sun looks kinder tired 'cause it hez no place to set. Oh! thar's high jinks, I'm allowing at a fuss-class jubilee But the Stars and Stripes ferever they is good enough fer me! So I drinks to Queen Victor'e, an' her celebrashun, too! She's a mighty fine old lady, an' a woman good an' true; 82 UNCLE JOSHUA'S JUBILEE ODE. An' I hopes the years will bless her as they hez done in the past, An' that this here celebrashun ain't a'goin to be her last; But as fer participatin' further in the jubilee Well, the Stars an' Stripes ferever they is good enough fer me! THE HERO IN RAGS. IT doesn't take no war to show jus* what is in a man, Fer Peace can furnish chances jus' as well as battles can. Down here in quiet Mudville is the last place 'at you'd seek To find a firs'-class hero, but we turned out one las' week! A grand an' noble feller, of the love-your-neighbor stamp A hero masqueradin' as a low-down-ornery tramp. What! Ain't you heerd the story yet? Well, where have you been at? It's known in ev'ry household right clean down to Griggses Flat! Las' Tuesday yes, las' Tuesday jus' about this time of day, The town police Jim Patterson, by name was on his way Up home to dinner when he met a man in dust an' rags What looked as though he spent his time a-testin' empty kags. Our town police Jim Patterson, by name has won renown 84 THE HERO IN RAGS. Per keepin' Mudville free from tramps an' chasin' them from town; So Jim he grabs the tramp an* says: "But you're a dandy, though!" The tramp says, "Yes; jus' drew a prize down at a beauty show!" "An' sassy, too, I see!" says Jim; "well, you bes' perco- late!" "All right; good-bye!" the tramp replies; "I'll hop the flyin' freight!" Well, life's a game of cards, an' no one knows what's in the deal! The tramp he moseys fer the freight, an' Jim goes fer his meal. It's gettin' kinder dusky now, an' shadders fill the air; The station-agent's settin', snoozin', easy in his chair; The wind begins complainin' to the trees up on the hill, An' everythin' is countrified, an' peaceful-like, an' still. Now, little Rosie Patterson, the daughter of our Jim, Had been down there to Sarah Primes a-practisin' a hymn, Fer she was solo singist in the Presbyterian choir No gal in all the village had a voice 'at could go higher! THE HERO IN RAGS. 85 She started 'crost the railroad, an' out on the North- bound track Her foot got caught, an' do her best she couldn't pull it back. Then up the grade about a mile a startlin' whistle blew; Poor little Rosie heerd its screetch the fast express was due! She moaned an' cried an' called fer help, but no one made reply Nobody ever cared to watch the fast express go by. Chucky chuck! chucky chuck! it's rushin' down the grade, an' there she stands, A-prayin' out her very soul, with pleadin', out-stretched hands! It's comin' nearer! nearer! see that awful blindin' light! Her pretty eyes are closed, an' all grows black as deep- est night, When, suddenly! her shoe! unlaced! free from the track she reels, Safe! but, God's grace! what's that? a man beneath the wheels! All crushed an' bleedin', on his brow the Death mark, cold an' damp He gave his life that she might live that ornery lookin' tramp! 86 THE HERO IN RAGS. They took him in the deppo' an' they tried to ease his pain; Jim Patterson he held him, an* his tears poured down like rain. The tramp he opened up his eyes, but didn't seem to know Jus' what had happened, fer he said to Jim, "All right I'll go! I'll mosey mosey down an' hop the flyin' freight!" he said, "But I'm so tired please excuse " he smiled an' fell back, dead. Out in the little graveyard there's a new-made mound of clay; A hero'll sleep beneath it till the final Judgment Day. He wasn't grand to look upon, ner great as great men goes, But still he had a noble heart beneath them ragged clothes; An' on the cross above his grave the simple facts we tell: "He was an outcast here on earth, but God will treat him well!" MY LEEDLE FRITZ. DER day is done und der shadows play Vare he sleeps my leedle Fritz! Und der curious moonbeams sofdly sdray Vare he sleeps my leedle Fritz! His vite vooly dog lies on his breast, Und der monkey on a stick vot he luffed der best In his small chubby hants is closely press'd Und he sleeps my leedle Fritz! Der night vinds call, but he doan'd reply, For he sleeps my leedle Fritz! Den dey vander avay mit a mournful sigh, Bud he sleeps my leedle Fritz! His blue Noah's Ark stants on der floor, Und Shem und Ham keep vatch in der door, Bud he doan'd come und talk mit dem no more, For he sleeps my leedle Fritz! 88 MY LEKDLE FRITZ. Der vorld is a dark und lonely blace Ven he sleeps my leedle Fritz! For der light uf der sun vas in his face, Und he sleeps my leedle Fritz! His toys dey are stanting all in a row, Und his leedle rocky horse id vispers low: "Der angels vanted him back, und so He sleeps our leedle Fritz! JEEMS. THE strangest thing has happened to my little grand- son, Jeems; Fer when I mention war news, why that youngster fairly beams! 'N' when the weekly paper comes up from the village store, He runs 'n' gets my specs 'n' sits expectant on the floor. 'N' then he drinks in ev'ry word that paper has to say; 'N' after that he never seems to have much heart for play. We found him out behind the barn, come Tuesday is a week, A'wearing of his father's cap the one that has a peak 'N' talking loud to Towser, which the same is just a pup, 89 JEEMS. A'saying words like "Shoulder harms! Attention, com- pany! Hup!" 'N' when I ast him what it meant, he said, "Well, Grandma, dear, It ain't no tellin' when they'll need another volunteer!" f N' yistiday we lost him couldn't find him high ner low, Until I searched the garret, where my dearest relics go; 'N' there was Jeems a'trying for to lift a rusty gun The one his Grandpa carried 'fore his work on earth was done. His Grandpa's faded army coat, too big for him a mile, He had put on to give himself a military style. "It ain't no tellin'," then says Jeems, "jus' when they'll want me, so I thought I'd jus' get used to guns but ain't they heavy, though! 'N' Grandpa's coat it mus' have been some time since it was wored! JEEMS. 91 'N' look here in the shoulder, was that where a bullet tored?" I couldn't, not for all the world, to that dear boy reply, Fer, bein' just a woman, why I had to go 'n' cry. Today Jeems come to me 'n' says, "Now, Gran'ma, won't you write 'N' tell my papa in the war I'm ready, too, to fight!" I kissed him on his curly hair, 'n' says, "Perhaps I will," 'N' he marched off with Towser to resume his daily drill. He's a very little fellow, but I wouldn't try to quell That spirit it would be no use, 'cause blood is sure to tell. DAS KLEINE KIND. DARE'S a fairy comes und leads him Down der lane to Drowsytown, Und der Night yust in his honor Vares her fery bestest gown, Und der boys vot lif in Dreamland All come ouid to take a peep, Ven das kleine kind is blinking, Vinking, Sinking Into sleep. All der road is filled mit blossoms From der flowers uf Forget; Und der stars dey visper ad him: "Ve are here, alretty yet, Und undil der daylight's dawning Over you a vatch ve'll keep" Ven das kleine kind is blinking, Vinking, Sinking Into sleep. DAS KLEINE KIND. 93 Den dot fairy dells him stones Vot is moosic, vild und free; Und dey fload on vare der moonlight Makes a soft und siffery sea; Vile der vaves of sweet condentment All arount dem dance und leap Ven das kleine kind is blinking, Vinking, Sinking Into sleep. Den dot fairy leads him through der Gates of Drowsytown to vare All der poppy children greet him At der place called Shut-eye Square; Den togedder mit each udder All dare seecrets do dey keep Und das kleine kind stops blinking, Sinking, Sinking, Fast asleep. FRITZ VON SNITZ. DiT you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz ? Vee leedle Fritz! Fritz Von Snitz! He's der smardest leedle fellow Vot you nefer saw, yet; He's as preddy as a picture, Und you couldn'd forget His sweet leedle laughings Uf you efer dit met Dit you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz? Dit you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz? Vee leedle Fritz! Fritz Von Snitz! Ven der sky id gets so dreary Dot der black shows through, Him und me, dot leedle fellow, Ve haf a romp or two; Und ven I know he's near me, Veil, I vasn'd so blue Dit you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz? FRITZ VON SNITZ. 95 Dit you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz? Vee leedle Fritz! Fritz Von Snitz! Der vorld vould be so embty Uf he vent avay! Und all der darkest shadows Dey vould come to stay Uf I couldn'd see him smiling Somedime py der day Dit you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz? Dit you know leedle Fritz Von Snitz? Vee leedle Fritz! Fritz Von Snitz! He comes mit der morning On der sun's fairst beams; He comes mit der tvilight, Ven der fairst star gleams He is yust a leedle fellow Vot I see in my dreams Haf you got a Fritz Von Snitz ? DER LEEDLE VARRIORS. VEE Gretchen dakes der proomstick, Und Hans he dakes a pan Und beats id mit a teasboon, Yust like dot bass drum man; Und Fritz he vas der Cabdain, His sword a palmleaf fan Ven dey go to fight der Spanish Down in Koobah. Der foe is fery careless, Dey meet him eferyvare; Somedimes dey find him hiding Down py der cellar sdair, Und den dey chump ubon him Und grap him py der hair Ven dey go to fight der Spanish Down in Koobah. " DER LEEDLE VARRIORS. 97 Dey dake dare Grampa's bootchack To make a catling gun; Dey load id mit potatoes, Und den der fight is vun, Pecause der foe is killded, Eggcepting dem vot run Ven dey go to fight der Spanish Down in Koobah. Und ven der pattle rayches, Dey make der kitten play A cabdiff in der duncheon, Midouid no milk all day; Und den dey plan a rescoo Und dake dot cat avay Ven dey go to fight der Spanish Down in Koobah. Und ven der nighttimes shadows Dare swords und cannon keep, Und off to Dreamland's playgrount Dem leedle solchers creep, DER LEEDLE VARRIORS. Somedimes I hear dem visper: "Who goes dare?" in dare sleep Ven dey go to fight der Spanish Down in Koobah. MY BOARD OF INQUIRY. Up on my knees they clamber when The daylight fades and dies Two brave but liliputian men With knowledge-seeking eyes, Who ply their questions right and left With such persistency That I of answers am bereft My Board of Inquiry. They ask such questions I declare I don't know what to say! They ask me if God dyed my hair Just by mistake with grey? They ask me where the night-time goes; And if the stars they see Are angels' candles set in rows? My Board of Inquiry. 99 100 MY BOARD OF INQUIRY. They ask me where the Sand-man keeps His little bags of sand? And if the Moon-man ever peeps Into the Promised Land? They ask me when the breezes sigh And sob so drearily If they're just telling us good-bye? My Board of Inquiry. They ask me if God makes the clouds From cotton wool why He Won't use them just to clothe the crowds Of ragged boys they see? And when it rains, the bright blue sky How wet it all must be! How does it manage to get dry? My Board of Inquiry. They ask me if the sun is not Ashamed to go to bed, Because they noticed that it got, At bedtime, rosy red. MY BOARD OF INQUIRY. IOI They ask if angels tie tin cans To comets' tails, and see At night, for that, the bogie-mans? My Board of Inquiry. They ask me does the poor moon hate To wake up in the night And find that it's so very late, And not a soul in sight? And do the angels have to pay For cream, and can they see The cows up in the Milky Way? My Board of Inquiry. Then in my arms they cuddle down, Nor wait for my replies; For they are bound for Sleepy Town, Where all their "ifs" and "whys," Where all their theories and themes Are answered speedily By fairies in the Land of Dreams My Board of Inquiry. TOMMY'S CHRISTMAS TREE. w E ain't got no Chris'mus tree, 'Cause my Mamma's husban' he '1st forgot he has a kid, 'At's what my Ma's husban' did. Pa, 'at's my Ma's husban', says Trees ain't fash'able these days; Ast him why, an' Pa says " 'cause Don't believe in Santa Claus!" Says he hates the noise an' fuss, Makes him aggravate an' cuss; Don't see why Ma keeps him, he Ain't no use 'at I can see. 'F me was him an' him was me, Bet I'd have a Chris'mus tree; Ma 'ist smiles an' says "too bad!" 'At 'ist makes me awful mad. TOMMY S CHRISTMAS TREE. IO3 Other little boys has Pas What believes in Santa Claus; Hate mean Pas I'll tell him so '1st as soon as I can grow. Wisht Ma lock him out tonight When he comes; 'ist serve him right; Make him stay out there, an* then Gobulins an' bogie men Ketch him 'fore the mornin' come Bet you then I'd have a drum, An' a whistle 'at I'd blow, Whether he don't like er no. Wisht why, here's Pa, an' I see 'At he's brought a Chris'mus tree; Says he thought he'd fool the kid 'At's 'ist what Ma's husban' did! I THE WEE ONE'S WISHES. WISHT I was a drate big King, The bigges' ever seen! 'En nights 'at wasn't Tris'mas Eve I'd make 'em Hollow E'en. An' 'en I'd go an 1 tell my Pa, "See here, you, Pa!" I'd say, "Now you jus' dare to call me in When I go out to play!" I wisht I was A King! I wisht I was a drate big King, I'd buy some tickets so 'At I could see the circus, an* I dess I'd let Pa go. But ef he made me study at My jogerfy I jus' Would leave him home, 'tause like as not He'd aggervate an' fuss I wisht I was A King! 104 THE WEE ONE S WISHES. 105 I wisht I was a drate big King, I know what I'd do with A boy 'at always chases me, His name is Bobby Smith! I'd buy a big perliceman's club, A dog, an' 'en a gun, An' 'en I'd say to Bobby Smith: "You dasn't make me run!" I wisht I was A King! I wisht I was a drate big King, I'd bring my Mama here; Pa says she's up 'ere in the skies, An' 'en he calls me "Dear;" His eyes gets full of tearses, too, 'En he don't speak at all. I dess I'd go an' get my Ma Ef I was not so small I wisht I was A King! X/P> I *~*'~ ! J?< r * ,YB Io7 1 v H279075 \ J THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY