xt78w950gp34 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt78w950gp34/data/mets.xml Ranck, Edwin Carty, 1879- 1906  books b92-242-31439464 English Humanity Printing and Pub. Co., : St. Louis, Mo. : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Poems for pale people  : a volume of verse / by Edwin C. Ranck. text Poems for pale people  : a volume of verse / by Edwin C. Ranck. 1906 2002 true xt78w950gp34 section xt78w950gp34 






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         AE Volume of Verse




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    untimnttv IWrintinlg allb J)ublisftng Co.

             it. l7tnzll, -Mo.

 






















cpyrght-d 1906 by
EDWIN C RANCK

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           PREFACE

    HIS little volume was written for
Tno reason on, earth and with no
     earthly reason. It just simply
happened, on the principle, I suppose
that "murder will out."  Murder is a
bad thing and so are nonsense rhymes.
There is often a valid excuse for mur-
der; there is none for nonsense rhymes.
They seem to be a necessary evil to
be classed with smnallpo.r, chicken-pox,
yellow fever and other irruptive dis-
eases. Thea are also o01 the order of
the boomerang and even tually rebound
and inflict much suffering on the un-
lucky verse-slinger. So A-Ol see non-
sense, like a little learni)ng is a dan er-
ous thing and should be handled with
as much care as the shot gun which is
never known to be loaded.
  A man who writes nonsense mav
become in time a big gunt. But this

 




is rare; more often he becomes a small
bore. This appears paradoxical and
will probably require thinking over,
but the more you think it over the less
you will understand. This is true of
parlor magic. It is also true of the
magazine poets. It really never pays
to think. Thinking is too much like
work. After reading these rhymes
you will not think that the writer ever
did think, which after all is the right
,wza to think.
  When Dryden wrote "Alexander's
Feast" he modestly stated that it was
the grandest poem ever written. Mr.
Dri dew evidently believed this or he
wouldn't have said so. But thenz every
one did not agree with Mr. Dryden.
Now I am going one step further and
will positively state that the writer of
this volume is the greatest poetical
genius who has not yet died in infancy.
  This is ani astounding statement but
it can be corroborated bv admiring
friends, for the writer is like a certain

 




brand of children's food in that he is
advertised by his loving friends.
  Speaking of "Alexander's Feast" it
simply cannot be compared to any one
of the finished, poetic gems in this col-
lection because it is so utterly differ-
ent. The difference is what made
Drvden famous. But comparisons are
odious, and Mr. Dryden has been dead
several years.
  "But what," you may ask, "is the
object of nonsense verse" Most as-
suredly to make one laugh. That
masterpiece of nonsense "Alice In
Wonderland" and its companion vol-
ume "Through The Looking Glass"
are absurd books, but their very ab-
surditv is what appeals to us most.
Their author, Mr. Le-wis Carroll was,
in private life a very sober gentleman
(at least zcwe hope so). Nonsense is the
salt of life with which wie season the
dry food of everyday cooking.
"A little nonsense now and then
  Is relished by the wisest men."

 




  Even serious old Longfellow had
this feeling in his bones when he wrote
the immortal lines which all of us re-
call from childhood:
"There was a little girl
  And she had a little curl
Which hung way down on her fore-
      head;
  And when she was good,
She was very good indeed,
  But when she was bad, she was
      horrid."
  This is nonsense pure and simple
and even the most ardent admirers ot
Mr. Longfellow must, when they try
to make "forehead" and "horrid"
rhyme, admit that it was very poor
verse for the author of "Evangeline."
  Bret Harte flew off at a tangent
when he wrote about "Ah Sin, The
Chinaman," a nonsense poem that gave
"Bill Nate" his pseudonym.  Oliver
Wendell Holmes wrote "The Wonder-
ful One-Hoss Shav." Rudyard Kip-
ling is often "caught with the goods

 





on him" and Mark Twain, wrote an
"Ode to Stephen Dozeling Botts."
  And Great Scott! I almost forgot
that even such a gentle, domestic cre-
ature as the cow has been the uncon-
scious inspiration of much nonsense
and has doubtless often chewed the
bitter cued of reflection in deploring
her undesired popularity. First she
was forced (very much against her
will, no doubt) to jump over the moon
to the undignified strains of "Hey
Diddle, Diddle."  Then, just when
beginning to breathe easily again after
that astounding performance, Gelett
Burgess came along and gave her
more notoriety by raising the question
as to whether there was such a thing
as a "purple cow."  And even today
in many, of the rural districts there are
old farmers who never heard of Bur-
gess and his "purple cowz'" who will
tell you solemnly that "there is a cow
of a sort of purplish color." Which
goes to prove that after all nonsense
is only sense plus-NON.

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THE poems in this collection have
      appeared from time to time in
The Kentucky Post, The Cincinnati
Post, The Cincinnati Commercial
Tribune, Humanity and The Valley
Magazine.

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WHY THE MOLE IS BLIND.



in days gone by, when cows could fly
And goblins rode on bears;
When fairies danced upon the green
And giants moped in lairs,
There lived alone upon a shelf
  A tinsie, winsie little elf.

Just when the stars came out at night
  Aind moonbeams filled the earth with light,
Down from his perch this little elf
  Whould jump and wander by himself.
He wore a pair of little wings
  Tied in their place by golden strings.

One day he took a kind of notion
  To take a trip upon the ocean.
I-le combed his hair and washed his face
  And put his little wings in place,

 



Then from his shelf he softly stole
  And went to see his friend the mole
Who gave to him a pea-green boat
  And guaranteed that it would float.

A funny thing about this boat
  'Twas patterned from a ten-pound note.
The little elf was greatly pleased
  And laughed until he sneezed and sneezed;
He launched his boat upon the sea
  And kicked his little heels in glee.

The mole looked on in glad surprise
  (For in those days all moles had eyes.)
He shouted out a loud farewell
  As the little row-boat rose and fell.
The elf picked tup a golden oar
  And soon lost sight of mole and shore.

The elf rowed out for quite a way
  And in the waves did sport and play,
Ujntil at length the sun sank low



14

 



  And then he thought it time to go.
Now just as luck would have it then
  A prowling sea gull left his den.

The savage sea gull loudly laughed
  To see an elf in such a craft,
And swooping down upon the water
  He did a thing he hadn't oughter,
For with his strong and sturdy beak
  He caused the boat to spring a leak.

Fle said he longed for a little change
  And the bank-note boat was just in range;
The poor young elf gave one big holler
  Just as the sea gull made a swallow
(And this is strange indeed to follow
  For a gull himself is just a swallow.)

The faithful mole heard this loud yell
  And rushed down to the shore pell-mell.
Alas, alas he was too late
  And saw his friend's unhappy fate;
                     I5

 



He groaned, and shrieked and tore his fur
And raised an awful din and stir.

The sea gull heard this awful racket
  And seized the mole, just like a packet.
He carried him across the seas
  To teach the young gulls A B C's.
But the loving mole went blind with rage
  And they had to put him in a cage,
And ever since that fatal night
  The moles have all been out of sight.


                       


NOW THERE'S A COON IN THE MOON.

There was once an eccentric old coon,
  \\Tho ate dynamite with a spoon,
Put when he got loaded
  The powder exploded-
And noxv there's a coon in the moon.



I6

 




THE COUNTY FAIR.



Oh, let's go out to the county fair
And breathe the balmy country air,
And whittle a stick and look at the hosses,
  Discuss the farmer's profit and losses.

We'll take a look at the country stock
  And drink some milk from a dairy crock;
Look at the pigs and admire the chickens,
And try to forget it's hot as the dickens.

Forget there are any political rings
Just think of the butter and eggs and things;
So wash off the buggy and hitch up the mare,
  And we'll all go out to the county fair.



17

 




O'DOWD OF THE JEFFERSON CLUB.



A maddened horse comes down the street,
With waving mane and flying feet.
The crowd scatters in every direction;
  It looks like a fight at a city election.
A big policeman waves his hands,
  And the air is full of vague commands,
While across the street a retail grocer
  Shrieks to his child as the horse draws closer
When suddenly out of the mad hubbub,
  Steps Jimmie O'Dowd of the Jefferson Club.

Every man there holds his breath-
  To stop the horse means sudden death.
But quick as a flash,
  O'Dowd makes a dash.
With all his might and the horse's mane,
  He brings the old plug to a halt again.
Then every man there doffs his hat
                    I8

 


And cries "Well, what do you think of that"
Never since the (lays of Nero
  Has there been a greater hero.

                   


             HALLOWEEN.

A night when witches skim the air,
  WShen spooks and goblins climb the stair;
When bats rush out with muffled wings,
And now and then the door-bell rings;
But just the funniest thing of all
  Is 'cause you can't see when they call.

 





SATURDAY ON THE FARM.



'Tis Saturday morn and all is bright
By nature's own endowing;
The sun is fiercely giving light,
And only me-
               Plowing.

Across the river I hear the sound
  Of a boatman slowly rowing;
I have no time to fool around,
  Especially when I'm-
               Hoeing.

And when the dinner hour has come,
  And thoughts of work are fleeting,
I only hear the insects hum,
  Because I'm busy-
               Eating.

At night when all things are at rest,



20

 



  Safe in Old Morpheus' keeping,
No troubles do my mind infest,
  For I am soundly-
                Sleeping.


                 



           LOVING JOHN.

John went into the garden one day
  And found his baby sister at play;
John hit baby with a brick
  And laughed because it made her sick,
Jolin is only two and six
  And loves to do these funny tricks.



21

 





THE CIRCUS.



0, the circus parade! 0, the circus parade I
  It lays all the politics back in the shade,
And the merchants forget that they've got any
    trade,
  While many remember they've never been
    paid
As they rushed out to look at the circus
    parade;
  And preachers who used to be terribly staid
Yell just like boys at the circus parade.
  Every one's there, both the mistress and
    maid,
All looking on at the circus parade.

And out at the grounds, when you've seen the
    parade,
  How delicious it is to drink pink lemonade;
And look at the elephant twirling his trunk,



22

 



And laugh at the capers cut by the monk;
Watch the old clown who is acting a dunce,
And try hard to see three rings going at
   once;
Gaze at the ringmaster cracking his whip,
And watch the tight-rope artist skip.
I saw that circus, Yes Sirree!
Saw about enough for three.


                   


                  LENT.

"Oh lend me five," the young man cried,
"My money all is spent."
The maiden shook her head and sighed,
"I'm sorry but it's Lent."



23

 





THE PROCESSIONAL.



    (Written in collaboration with R. B.
                Hamilton.)
When Julius Ceaser met his death,
  He muttered in his dying breath:
"It is not patriotism now
  Promps you to break your friendship's vow."
Quoth Brutus, as he stabbed again
The greatest of his countrymen:
     "You're in this fix
     Through politics."

As on his path Columbus sped,
  A sailor to the great man said:
"Without a break, without a bend,
  The broad Atlantic has no end."
And to the sailor at his side,
  'Tis rumored, that great man replied:



24

 



      "I guess I know.
      You go below."


The snow fell fast on Russia's soil,
The soldiers, wearied with their toil,
Cried: 'Tis not possible that we
  Our native France again shall see."
Stern ever in the face of death,
  Napoleon said beneath his breath:
      "Go take a walk,
      I hate such talk."


A cherry tree lay on the ground,
  On George's body, pa did pound;
"But pa", George cried, "It seems to me
That you are wrong; dis ain't your tree."
The old man sadly shook his head
  And to his wayward son he said:
      "Don't lie to me
      I know my tree."



25

 



Wrhen Dewey on his flagship sailed,
  The Spaniards never even quailed.
"Oh, it ain't possible," said they,
  "For him to reach Manila Bay."
But Dewey merely smiled in glee,
"It isn't possible" quoth he,
      -Why, hully gee,
      Just wait and see."

              MORAL.
Thus onward as through life we go,
  Amid the pomp, and glare, and show,
W\te oft some proverb misconstrue
  And mutter boldly, "Tis not true."
But in their calm, majestic way,
  We hear the tongues of wise men say:
      "You go way back
      And then sit down."



26

 





AT THE TELEPHONE.



Ting-ling--"South, please, 1085;
  Why hello, Jim-Oh, Saints alive!
It's south, I told you-hello; no,
  I said once that I could not go.

"Say, can you meet me there tonight
Confound it, Jim, you must be tight.
WhNliat are you saying anyhow,
I've got the wrong ear by the sow

"Not pretty  i' hy, she's out o'sight,
Oh, shut tip; that will be all right.
You can't walk there WVhy it ain't far;
We get there on a 'lectric car.

"Wrell, Great Scott, man, don't talk all day,
But let me know now right away.
Miss B-, Oh, let the old girl wait;
\We won't be out so very late.



27

 



"You will All right then-eight o'clock;
  Be sure and meet me on the block,
Remember now, don't get it wrong;
  All right, old man (Ting-ling), so long.


                     



              A HARDSHIP.

    I never saw a loaf of bread
      Conspicuous in its purity,
      But that I sadly shook my head
      And left five-cents as surety.



28

 




CHRISTMAS TOYS.



Say, I like toys,
Christmas toys.
Remember when we were boys
  Long ago
Then you were a kid
Not a beau.
And on Christmas Day,
Oh, say,
We got up in the dark
And had a jolly lark
Round the fire.
The cold air was shocking
As we peeped in our stocking-
And, way down in the toe,
Now say this is so-
  Dad placed a dollar.
Made me holler.
  Yes, sirree,
               29

 


They were good to me.
  Remember Jim
Mean trick I did him.
  You know Jim was surly
Well I got up early
  Took his dollar out,
And put a rock
  In his sock.
Gee, he was mad,
  Went and told dad;
But dad he just laughed
  And said:
Might's well be dead
  If you couldn't have fun.
Then for spite,
  I kept tkat dollar 'til night.
Funny, seein' these toys
  Made me think of us boys.
But now, Gee!
  Christmas ain't like it used to be.



30

 


THE RUBAIYAT OF A KENTUCKIAN.



Wake for the sun, that scatters into flight,
The poker players who have stayed all night;
Drives husbands home with reeling steps, and
   then-
   Gives to the sleepy "cops" an awful fright.

I sometimes think that never blows so red
The nose, as when the spirits strike the head;
That every step one takes upon the way
  Makes him wish strongly he were home in
    bed.

The moving finger writes, but having "pull",
  You think that you can settle things in full,
But when you interview the Police Judge,
You find that you have made an awful bull.

Some nonsense verses underneath the bough,
  A little "booze", a time to loaf, and thou-
Beside me howling in the wilderness,
  Would be enough for one day anyhow.



31

 





THE MEDICINE MAN.



Good people if you have the mumps,
Or ever get down with the dumps;
Or have bad cold or aching pains,
Or ever suffer with chilblains-
Don't seek your doctor for advice,
And pay him some tremendous price,
But buy a drug that's safe and sure -
  In fact, get Blank's Consumptive Cure.


                  



                 ALAS.

He led her out across the sand,
  And by her side did sit;
fTe asked to hold her little hand,
  She sweetly answered, "Nit."
                    32

 





THE GLORIOUS FOURTH AND ITS
              MEMORIES.

Have you ever mused in silence upon a sum-
   mer's day
 And let your thoughts run riot and your
   feelings have full sway,
-s you sprawled full length upon the grass in
   some secluded dell
 And breathed the balmy country air, and
   smelt the country smell
Then as you muse,
And gently snooze,
Between thinks
You remember those jinks
When spirits were high
On the Fourth of July
There was little Willie Browning, the worst of
   all the boys



33

 


  Who had a sure-nuff cannon that made all
  kinds of noise;
And when the cannon wouldn't go he blew into
   the muzzle,
   But what became of Willie's teeth has al-
   ways been a puzzle.

How the folks looked askance
At the seats of our pants,
When those giant skyrockets
Went off in our pockets!
Gee whiz!
What fun the Fourth is!

When the red-hot July sun began to wink the
   clouds away,
 We were out with whoops and shoutings to
   celebrate the day.
With piece of punk in one hand and crackers
   in the other,
   We would troop home later in the day for
   linseed oil and mother.



34

 


But our burns
Were small concerns.
Our hearts were light,
Injuries slight.
Not even a sigh
On the Fourth of July.

A nd as you lie and ponder, the thought comes
   home to you
 That your youngest boy now celebrates the
   way you used to do;
And the mother that he bawls for to have those
   small wounds dressed
 Is the woman whom long years ago you
   swore you loved the best.

But what funny things
  Memory brings.
Who would have thought
That I would be caught
With a tear in my eye
On the Fourth of July.
                    35

 





KEEP TRYIN'.



you're feelin' blue as ink
your spirits 'gin to sink,
be weak an' take a drink



       Keep Tryin'.

There are times when all
  Get riled up and start
But there ain't no use to
Just
       Keep Tryin'.



of us
a muss,
cuss,



When things seem to go awry,
And the sun deserts your sky,
Don't sit down somewhere and cry,
But
       Keep Tryin'.
Everybody honors grit,
Men who never whine a bit-
               36



When
An'
Don't
But

 



    Men who tell the world, "I'm IT"
      And
            Keep Tryin'.
    Get a hustle on you NOW,
      Make a great, big solemn vow
    That you'll win out anyhow,
      And
            Keep Tryin'.
    All the world's a battlefield
      Where the true man is revealed,
    But the ones who never yield
            Keep Tryin'.

                   :s 

                GENIUS.

There was once a young man quite erratic
Who lived all alone in an attic,
He wrote magazine verse
That made editors curse,
But his friends thought it fine and dramatic.
                   37

 





TALE OF THREE CITIES.



A seedy young man in Savanah
Fell in love with a rich girl named Anna,
But her papa got mad
And swore that "By Gad,
The fellow shall never Havana !"
But the couple eloped to Caracas,
Where the Germans kicked up such a fracas;
And he said to his wife,
"You can bet your sweet life
That papa dear never will track us."

                 

      MODERN MAUD MULLER.

Maud Muller on a summer's day,
  Raked the meadows, sweet with hay.
Nor was this just a grand-stand play;
  Maud got a rake-off, so they say.
                   38

 






NOCTURNE.



A cat (met
  A silhouette.
A high brick wall,
An awful squall.
A moonlit night,
A mortal fight.
A man in bed,
  Sticks out his head.
Gee Whiz!
The man has riz.
His arm draws back
A big bootjack-
A loud swish,
  Squish!
"What's that "
  A dead cat.



39

 






THE SISSY BOY.



Beware the Sissy Boy my child,
  Not because he's very wild;
The Sissy Boy is never that,
  Although he'll run if you say "Scat!"
The Sissy Boy's infinitesimal
  He is not worth a duodecimal.

If you should take a custard pie
  And hit a Sissy in the eye,
He would not go before a jury,
  He'd only blush and say "Oh Fury !"
For he is perfumed, sweet and mild,
  That's just his kind, my dearest child.

One should never strike a Sissy,
  He is too lady-like and prissy.
You do not need to use your fist
  But merely slap him on the wrist,



40

 



And if this will not make him budge,
  Then glare at him and say "Oh Fudge !"
The Sissy sports a pink cravat
  And often wears a high silk hat;
His voice is like a turtle dove's
  And he always wears the "cutest" gloves.
At playing ping-pong he's inured,
  And his finger-nails are manicured.

He uses powder on his face
  And his handkerchiefs are trimmed with
    lace;
He loves to play progressive euchre
  And spend his papa's hard-earned lucre.
He wears an air of nonchalance
  And always takes in every dance.

Socially, he's quite a pet
  And alwavs fashionably in debt.
He hates to be considered slow
  And poses as a famous beau.
He loves to cut a swath and dash
  When papa dear puts up the cash.
                     4'

 



This, my child, is the Sissy Boy
  Who acts so womanly and coy.
His head's as soft as new-made butter;
  His aim in life is just to flutter;
Yet he goes along with unconcern
And marries a woman with money to burn.




                




         TO GELETT BURGESS.

       I never saw a purple cow,
         You say you never saw one;
       But this I'll tell you anyhow,
         T know that I can draw one



42

 





THE LOBSTER.



Lobsters haven't any feet,
  But they have lots of claws;
Yet lobster meat is good to eat,
And this is strange, because-
A dog is never good to eat,
  And yet a dog has paws,
And so have cats, and so have rats
And so have other kind of brats.

A lobster then, so to speak,
  Is, my child, an awful freak;
For if you get him in a stew,
  He'll blush quite red and glare at you,
Yet if you eat much lobster salad,
  It will make you very pallid.



43

 





A PUN FROM THE DEEP.



A funny thing once happened to a German
   from Berlin,
   For once he got too gay and seized a sword-
   fish by the fin,
This made the big fish angry, and he sawed the
   German's chin.
 "Just Tell Them That I Saw You" said the
   swordlfish with a grin.

                


               STYLISH.

There once was an old crocodile
  Who lived on the banks of the Nile.
One day, for a meal,
  He swallowed a wheel,
And ate for dessert, an automobile.



44

 





IF I COULD FLY.



     (What the Little Boy Thought.)
If I had wings just like a bird
Do you know what I'd do
I'd fly way up into the sky
An' holler down at you.

I'd fly along the Milky Way
  Feelin' fine and chipper,
An' then I'd drink some buttermilk
  Fresh from out the Dipper.

I'd skim along through fleecy clouds,
  An' see the great, Big Bear
An' ask him how he liked to live
  So high up in the air.

Wouldn't it be dandy
  To fly just when you please,
An' go an' ask the Dog-star
  If he worried much with fleas



45

 



I'd do all kinds of other things
If I could only fly,
But I am just a little boy
  An' so I dassn't try.




                





     A HAND-ME-DOWN.

Said Sue to her suitor:
  "You'll get a new suit, or
I'll sue for a suitor to suit."
  "Why Sue," said her suitor
Who tried hard to suit her,
  "Your suitor is suited to suit."



46

 





FAREWET L SNOW.



          (After Walt Whitman.)
That light, that white, that weird, uncanny
   substance we call snow
   Is slowly sifting through the bare branches-
   and ever and anon
My thoughts sift with the drifting snow, and I
   am full of pale regret.
   Yes, full of pale regret and other things-
   you know what I mean.
And why Because the snow must go; the
    time has came to part.
  Yes, it cannot was much longer-like the
    flakes my thoughts are melting
'Tis here, 'tis there, in fact, 'tis everywhere-
    the snow I mean.
  Like the thick syrup which covers buck-
    wheat cakes it lies.



47

 



The man who says he don't regret its passing
    also lies.
  And wilt thou never come again Yes, thou
  Wilt never come again. Alas !
How well I remember thee! 'Twas but yester-
    dav, methinks,
  When a great daub of snow fell from a
    nearby housetop
And when I ventured-poor foolish mortal that
    I was-to look,
  Caught me fairly in the mouth (an awful
    swat) and nearly smothered me.
There is another little trick of thine, most
    lovely snow-
  It is but a proof of thine affection to cling
    around our necks,
But still we swear-we cannot help it, Snow.
  Now it is "Skidoo," or "23 for you." Oh,
    cursed inconstancy of man!



48

 




THE SAD TURKEY GOBBLER.



o a fat turkey gobbler once sat on a limb
And he sighed at the wind, and the wind
   sighed at him.
But the grief of the gobbler one could not
   diminish,
   For it was Thanksgiving and he saw his
   finish.
So the heart of the gobbler was heavy as lead
  And he muttered the words of the poet who
    said:
"Backward, turn backward, 0 Time in thy
    flight,
  Make me a boy again, just for to-night!"



49

 





SPRIG HAS CUB.



Sprig, Sprig-Oh lovely Sprig!
  Oh, hast thou cub to stay
Add wilt the little birdies sig
  Throughout the livelog day
What bessage dost thou brig to be,
  Fair Lady of by dreabs-
Dost whisper of the babblig brook
  Ad fishig poles ad streabs

Those happy days have cub agaid,
  The sweetest of the year,
Whed bad cad raise ad appetite
  Ad wholesub thirst for beer.
I've often thought id wudder, Sprig,
  Of how the lily grows,
But the thig that's botherig be dow
  Is how to sprig dew clothes.



50

 


Sprig, Sprig-Oh lovely Sprig!
By thoughts are all of you
I saw a robid yesterday-
How strange it seebs-ad dew!
I've got a dreadful cold, Fair Sprig,
Or else I'd sig to thee
Ad air frob Beddelssohd, perhaps,
Or "The Shade of the Old Apple Tree."

                


  THE HOT WEATHER FIEND.

Ah, somewhere in another world
There is a warmer spot,
Where the fire is burning always,
  And always it is hot;
And always fiends are shouting,
  And alwavs flames are blue,
And always Satan's asking:
  "IS IT HOT ENOUGH FOR YOU"



51

 





WHEN THE LID WAS ON.



They were seated there in silence
  Each one busy with a frown,
It was midnight in the city,
And the lid was on the town.
They had all been playing poker
'Mid the rattle of the chink,
When a gloom fell o'er the party,
  For they couldn't buy a drink,
But a little fellow whispered
As he held a poker hand,
"Can't we get as drunk on water
As we can upon the land"
Then we kicked the little rascal,
And we spoke without a frown,
And we anchored safe in harbor
  WNhen the lid was on the town.



52

 




THE DOODLE BUG.



\'Vhy that's a doodle bug, my child
  Wvho lives alone, remote and wild.
His domicle's a hole in the ground
  And when at home he's easily found.
The only plan allowed by law
  Is to lure him forth upon a straw,
For the doodle bug is a misanthrope
  And otherwise is sure to elope.

                  GRIT.
I hate the fellow who sits around
  And knocks the livelong day-
Who tells of the work he might have done;
  If things had come his way.
But I love the fellow who pushes ahead
And smiles at his work or play-
You can wager when things do come around,
They will come his way-and stay.

                    53

 




THE NEXT MORNING.



What a difference in the morning
When you try to raise your head;
\Vhen your eyelids seem so heavy
You could swear they were of lead;
When your tongue is thickly coated
And you have an awful thirst;
When you drink so much cold water
That you feel about to burst;
\\hen you lift your hand towards heaven
And solemnly do say:
"I'm going to 'cut out' drinking
And I'll swear off right to-day."

      A WONDERFUL FEAT.

I never walk along the street
Because I haven't any feet;
Nor is this strange when I repeat
That I am but a garden beet.
                 54

 





APRIL FOOL.



Twas on the f-f-f-first of April D-D-Day,
  W-w-w-when Nature s-s-smiled and all w-w-
    was gay,
And I-w-w-why I was in a w-w-whirl,
  'C-c-cause I w-w-was w-w-walking w-w-with
    my g-g-girl.

We w-w-wandered through a leafless w-w-
    wood
  W-w-where many giant oak-t-t-trees s-s-
    stood,
And p-p-paused beside a d-d-dark g-g-green
    pool
  And sat d-d-down on a rustic s-s-stool.

T-t-then out I s-s-spoke in accents b-b-bold,
  And all m-m-my I-love for her I t-t-told.
She answered w-w-with a sweet, s-s-hy g-g-
    glance
                    55

 


  That pierced m-m-my h-h-heart like C-C-
    Cupid's 1-lance.

I seized her in a t-t-tight embrace,
  And s-s-showered k-k-kisses on her f-f-face,
And t-t-told her that I'd g-g-give my 1-life
  If she would only b-b-be my w-w-wife.

"Please k-k-keep your 1-1-life," the m-m-maid
    replied
  'T-f-for I w-w-will gladly b-b-be your b-b-
    bride,
And y-y-you" she s-s-said, in t-t-tones quite
    c-c-cool,
  "\V-w-why you c-c-can b-b-be my April F-F-
    Fool."

             BRUTAL MARY.

       M\4ary had a little lamb,
         The lamb was always buttin'
       So M\ary killed the little lamb
         And turned him into mutton.
                     56

 





YOU COULDN'T HARDLY NOTICE IT
                AT ALL.

There was a girl in our town
Who dearly loved to flirt,
But the home folks never noticed it at all.
The women in the neighborhood
All said she was too pert,
  Put she never even noticed them at all.

One night a young man came to call
WVho was considered slow,
But when he got alone with her,
He turned the lights down low.
He begged her for a little kiss,
She softly murmured "No,"
But you couldn't hardly notice it at all.



57

 





THE ALARM CLOCK.



NNWith a clatter and a jangle,
And a wrangle and a screech,
How the old alarm clock wheezes
As it sneezes out of reach!
How you groan and yawn and stretch
  In the chilly morning air,
As you pull the blankets tight,
  \Vith your head clear out of sight-
How you swear!


        A NEW VERSION.

Old M\Iother Hubbard
  She went to the cupboard,
To find a nice bone for her dog
  But when she got there
The cupboard was bare,
  And now they are both on the hog.
                 58

 





OH SCISSORSI



I knew a young man so conceited
That a glance at his face made you heated.
One night, playing whist,
  He was slapped on the wrist,
Because some one said that he cheated.


             HE APED HER.

An impudent Barbary ape
  Once tried on a lady's new cape.
As he gave a big grin,
  The lady came in,
And-his children are still wearing crepe.



59

 





TAKE UP THE HOUSEHOLD BURDEN.



Take up the household burden,
  ,No iron rule of kings,
But make your family understand
That you are running things,
Don't storm around and bluster,
  And don't get mad and swear
If in the soup is floating-
  A rag and a hank of hair.


Take tup the household burden
  In patience to abide,
To curse the irate grocer
  And make your wife confide
By open speech and simple
  And hundred times made plain
How she has sought to profit
  In spending all you gain.
                6o

 



Take up the household burden-
  The little baby boy,
And walk the floor in anguish
  And don't let it annoy.
For when the kid seems sleepy
  And you are feeling "sold,"
There comes a cry from baby boy
  That makes your blood run cold.

Take up the household burden
  And try and be a man,
Just simply grin and bear it
  And do the best you can.
Come now and try your manhood
  And let the future go,
And listen to your elders-
  They've tried it and they know.



6r

 





VITASCOPE PICTURES.



A young girl stands
Upon the sands,
And waves her hands.
    Flirtation.

A fresh young man
  With shoes of tan,
Looks spick and span-
    Expectation.

They walk the beach,
  She seems a peach
Just out of reach-
    Vexation.

Ah what is this
  A sound of bliss
A kiss, a kiss -
    Elation.
           62

 


A father lean
Upon the scene,
Looks awful mean-
    (Curtain.)




      AN IRISH TOAST.

Here's to dear 0uld Ireland,
Here's to the Irish lass,
Here's to Dennis and Mike and Pat,
Here's to the sparkling glass.
Here's to the Irish copper,
He may be green all right,
But you bet he's Mickie on the spot
Whenever it comes to a fight.
Here's to Robert Emmet, too,
And here's to our dear Tom Moore.
Here's to the Irish shamrock,
Here's to the land we adore.



63

 





MY LIFE AND DEATH.



    (By A. Turkey Gobbler.)
I'm just a turkey gobbler,
But I've got a word to say
And I'd like to say it quickly
  Before I pass away,
For I wvill get it in the neck
Upon Thanksgiving Day.

I cannot keep from thinking
  O