HELLiN^UPROAR 
 
 D 526 NOT 
 
 German Propaganda 
 
 By A DAMSITE 
 
 And 50 Other Talea in 
 Prose and Versa 
 
 A Medley of Sneers 
 and Laughter 
 
 WRITTEN AND COMPILED BY F. B. B, 
 
 All over cost of production of First Edition 
 to Red Cross and kindred societies 
 
 AGENTS WANTED 
 TOO OLD TO FIGHT, I WRITE 
 
 BENNETT PUB. CO. 
 
 Port Huron, 
 
 Michigan 
 
f^ 
 
 HELL ^UPROAR 
 
 NOT 
 
 German Propaganda 
 By A DAMSITE 
 
 And 50 Other Tales in 
 Prose and Verse 
 
 A Medley of Sneers 
 and Laughter 
 
 WRITTEN AND COMPILED BY F. E. B. /fj^ ^ /f/<f" 
 
 All over cost o£ production o£ First Edition 
 to Red Cross and kindred societies 
 
 AGENTS WANTED 
 
 TOO OLD TO FIGHT, I WRITE 
 
 BENNETT PUB. CO. 
 
 Port Huron, 
 
 Michigan 
 
^s^^ 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 ^'^ 
 
 Copyright, 1918 
 FRED E. BENNETT 
 
 km 23 1918 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 To red blooded Americans everywhere, who are giving the 
 "Beast of Berlin" and his Satellites a taste of Virginia's 
 motto, "Sic Semper Tyrannis" — Ever so to tyrants. 
 
 A ten dollar note, pledged to Red Cross, for any line 
 in this work from cover to cover, that unbiased opinion 
 of competent judges can show to be offensive to most de- 
 vout christian or loyal American, regardless of nationality 
 or previous condition of servitude. 
 
\\ FOREWORD II 
 
 As one of the first to urge by voice and pen PRE- 
 PAREDNESS — and a consistent advocate of Americanism 
 — when it evoked the cynical sneer of the yellow streaked 
 pacifist and constituted bad business policy, if not crime, 
 to so advocate it, when pro-Germanism and pacifist yam- 
 merings were the order of the day, and patriotism to a cer- 
 tain extent lay dormant, to the days when Hun Americans 
 were so blatant and self-assertive, that being 100 per cent 
 American and not ashamed to own it, brought on a Hun 
 boycott that has lasted for over 3 years, is one reason 
 why this little book has been compiled and put out, with 
 the hope that it will bring home to Americans just what 
 America is "up against." "Idiotic Yankees," in the light 
 of past events, was not so far from the mark or Von 
 Pappen, the author of the title and the gang of sneaking 
 spies and ingrates he trained with, would probably have 
 been given a dose such as Germany would have given them 
 under similar circumstances had their activities been 
 against her as they were used against the land that had 
 thrown wide its portals to the oppressed of every nation, 
 had opened up to them golden opportunities for wealth, 
 
 4 
 
liberty and all the benefits that the blood, starvation, de- 
 privation and misery of those gone before had vouchsafed 
 to all who cast in their lot with us. Our churches, schools, 
 colleges, our billions of fertile acres, our mountains of 
 coal and ore, not an avenue was closed to them, yet this 
 horde of ingrates and the sycophantic slimy parasites 
 thrived and fattened in office, largely due to the votes of 
 these misfit counterfeit Americans, and in every movement 
 of their reptilian makeup, did all that our worst enemies 
 could be expected to do to hamper and frustrate our efforts 
 to proclaim to the world that we were not a nation of 
 poltroons. 
 
 When the machiavellianism of "The Beast of Berlin" 
 and his cohorts of blundering, wooden-headed sneaks, by 
 tactics beneath the contempt of an amateur in sneakery, 
 did their silly best to embroil us in trouble with peoples 
 whom we were anxious to aid, peoples that our quiescence 
 led to believe (when pounded into their ivory domes by the 
 blundering Hun) were "too proud to fight" got the sur- 
 prise of their lives, when we moved on Vera Cruz, so it is 
 let us hope with Germany and Germans who are even now 
 coming to see that there is a good deal of truth in that old 
 adage "coming events cast their shadows before." 
 
OLD GLORY 
 
 "Old Glory" theme of the song we sing, 
 
 Battle scarred flag we love, 
 Insult to it, we will quick resent. 
 
 And while it waves above 
 
 Though war we abhor, if fight we must, 
 
 To arms we will quickly fly, 
 And as oft before in days of yore 
 
 Keep ' ' Old Glory ' ' waving high. 
 
 Then its hip, hip, hip, as we march along. 
 
 For "Old Glory" hip, hip, hurrah ; 
 Our pride you are in time of peace. 
 
 In war our guiding star, 
 And where you lead we follow on, 
 
 For we love each starry fold, 
 As our fathers did, in the "long ago," 
 
 In troublous times of old. 
 
 Our homes, our schools, our marts of trade. 
 
 O'er our loved on land or sea, 
 Wliere ere your folds float on the breeze. 
 
 You 're the flag of the brave and free. 
 When the bugles call to the colors all, 
 
 Tho our loved we leave in tears. 
 For the right we'll fight as our fathers did 
 
 For "Old Glory" raise our cheers. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 6 
 
MICHIGAN, MY MICHIGAN 
 
 Arranged for Megaphone 
 Michigan, my Michigan, 
 
 Gem of the inland seas; 
 The geysers that don 't love you 
 
 E bloomink 'ard to please. 
 Your girlie girls for beauty 
 
 Can nowhere be surpassed; 
 
 Your boys for manly sport of any kind 
 
 R seldom found outclassed; 
 And when it comes to love of Home, 
 
 Country, Flag or Cause that 's Right, 
 U will find but few among 'em. 
 
 Who R ''Too Proud to Figlit" 
 
 F. F. B. 
 
JIM'S AT THE FRONT 
 
 There is a kind of settled gloom — 
 A sort of all-day valley-mist — 
 That has a hold, in every room, 
 Like some unseen antagonist. 
 And all about the house and farm 
 The simple joys that were our wont. 
 Have disappeared or lost their charm, 
 Since Jim, our Jim, went to the front. 
 
 I watched the wife a while ago. 
 
 Setting the table for our tea. 
 
 Deep lost in thought, with movements slow, 
 
 A place for her, a place for me. 
 
 And, as in days that have gone by. 
 
 The old accustomed place for Jim; 
 
 Then, with a smothered sob and sigh. 
 
 She stopped and tried to joke of him. 
 
 Oh, she is brave! I've tried and tried 
 
 A hundred times to do the same. 
 
 And simulated joy and pride 
 
 That Jim, our Jim, had "played the game." 
 
 And all the while my heart is sore. 
 
 And all the while I know that she. 
 
 Prays for the only child she bore. 
 
 And adds a postcript prayer for me. 
 
Last Sunday at the fall of night, 
 
 Another to our fireside came, 
 
 And almost in a manner light 
 
 And frivolous she spoke his name. 
 
 "It's all right, dear old Mum," she said. 
 
 "Old Jimmie knows a thing or two. 
 
 Don't you go worrying your head, 
 
 I know the old chap will pull through." 
 
 But when I'd taken down the Book, 
 And read the lesson for the day, 
 She took in her's, old hands that shook, 
 And knelt between us both to pray, 
 Then, to my heart of hearts I felt 
 The strong faith of her youth pass out. 
 And words forsook me as I knelt. 
 For I had deadened hope with doubt. 
 
 I know that sobs came to me there; 
 I know I trembled on my knees; 
 I know I stumbled through the prayer — 
 "Do with him. Lord God, as You please; 
 But keep him worthy of his race, 
 And the traditions made for him!" 
 But she, with love-light in her face, 
 Prayed simply — "Make us worthy Jim." 
 
 (Anon) 
 
ASSURANCE 
 
 God bless our boys now battling with our Allies 'cross 
 the sea, 
 
 To free a world now suffering from Kulchured cruelty. 
 
 Our Army, Navy, Doctors, Nurses, God bless them 
 every one ; 
 
 For them we '11 bear each burden, until victory is won. 
 
 Each stitch we sew for loved ones, comfort for loved 
 ones knit. 
 
 Has our love and fondest wishes sewn or knitted into 
 it. 
 
 Our pride you are, our love goes with you, wherever 
 you may be ; 
 
 In camp, on briny billow, or "somewhere" across the 
 sea. 
 
 For humanity our battle — on. "Our Flag" there is no 
 stain ; 
 
 May God be with our loved ones until we meet again. 
 
 F. E. B. ' 
 
 10 
 
UPHOLD THE FLAG, ''THE STARRY FLAG" 
 
 Uphold the Flag, "The Starry Flag," 
 Let no weakling wails prevail. 
 Or dastard act besmirch ''Our Flag" 
 When foreign foes assail. 
 
 As manly men, let's "play the game," 
 As did those gone on before, 
 Uphold the Flag bequeathed us. 
 Upheld in days of yore. 
 
 Then when we cross the ' ' Big Divide, ' ' 
 And meet friends face to face, 
 See their smile of approbation, 
 Not their sneer at our disgrace. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 AMERICA 
 
 With due apologies to Von Pappen et al 
 
 Home of the "Idiotic Yankee," 
 Likewise home of the brave and free. 
 The land that ties strings on no man 
 No matter whom he may be, 
 
 If Fatherland or Motherland 
 
 Has gyves or ropes on you, 
 
 Tho it breaks our ' ' idiotic Yankee hearts ' ' 
 
 We'll gladly bid you all adieu. 
 
 Have always held the "glad hand" out 
 To all — be they serf or slave. 
 Have divied up the best we had. 
 What more can any crave. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 11 
 
FADDER, MUDDER AND ME 
 
 Yust lisden mein friends, while dot shtory I tell, 
 
 Bond dot treep dot we took, I remember id veil, 
 
 Fon dot fadderland far across der blue sea, 
 
 Der treep dot vas tooken by fadder, mudder und me. 
 
 Ven I wass a kid, mein fadder voiild say, 
 
 I vas sig of dot fadderland und ve soon go avay. 
 
 We here gads *'Verboten," to der Kaiser mus' bow, 
 
 Uf I had der price I vould leave id righd now. 
 
 Soon by und by we geds tiggets, to go by der ship, 
 
 Und id didden dake long to pack oop und shkip. 
 
 For all dot we had, ve could pud in a bag, 
 
 Und our money carry easy rolled oop in a rag. 
 
 Veil; we travel by Yimminy, von whole nighd by der train, 
 
 Und ven id come mornink we travel again, 
 
 'Til fadder who vas loogin, said to mudder und me, 
 
 Loog! — dere vas der ship dot ve go by der sea. 
 
 12 
 
Soon we ged to dot ship righd avay preddy quig, 
 But der shmell of dot steerage id mage us all sig, 
 So glad vas ve all to leave dot dear fadderland, 
 Dot ve shtig by dot steerage, tell id shmell und be d — d. 
 So beeg lige a house vas dot ship, bud vas longer, 
 Limburger shmell shtrong, but dot steerage shmell 
 
 shtronger. 
 Bud no lane vas so long, dot no turn has dey tell, 
 Und we soon cross der ocean, leave dot sighess und shmell. 
 
 You bet ve vas glad, fadder, mudder und me, 
 
 Ven ve see dot ''Liberty Goddess" shtan' dere by der sea. 
 
 Dot Goddess I betcha, vas mos' a mile high, 
 
 Und der torch dot she hoi lit oop der whole shky. 
 
 Fadder say dot she hold id, so mudder und me 
 
 Could see dot home of der brave und dot land of der free. 
 
 Dese mage mudder so habby, she yust sing mit joy, 
 
 Boud dot Ian' dot vas fair, in der sveed bye und bye. 
 
 13 
 
Veil ve come by New Yor-rik und fadder got vork, 
 Mudder go scrubbing for Chink, Jap or Turk. 
 'Till soon ve haf money und fadder he buy, 
 Von leedle saloon dot fill us mit joy. 
 Fadder geep sober, mage odder mens drunk, 
 Und soon we haf money vould fill a beeg trunk. 
 Den fadder got der pig head und says he, *'By Gob," 
 Vat I vant iss a politicar yob. 
 
 Veil, mit inflooence he geds id, you bet he feel big, 
 Mit a head lige a coco nut, yust so fat lige a pig, 
 Mudder vear dimon's, fadder vear a plug hat. 
 Mutts gall im alderman, vat you tink aboud dat. 
 Yust ven things vas so smooth, lige der wool on a cat, 
 Dis damn war id shtards oop, right off by der bat. 
 Den you bets we shtig oop, fadder, mudder and me. 
 For fadderland und Kaiser, across der blue sea. 
 
 14 
 
Der Kaiser not shtard id, not vas id der Hun, 
 
 All dot he und we vants vas earth, planets und sun, 
 
 Mudder vas so mad boud dot war when she hear 
 
 Dot der Kaiser don' claim der whole atmosphere. 
 
 Vass Mudder mad; holy shmoke you should see 
 
 Vat mudder she did to fadder und me. 
 
 Said for fadderland und Kaiser she'd die; 
 
 For der land of limburger vould be a goot shpy. 
 
 Told fadder und me, efry way dot ve could, 
 Gif dem Allies der vorst, for der Kaiser "mage good." 
 Tell us both lie lige blazes efry time dot we shpeaks. 
 Mage believe ve vas friends while ve always was shneags. 
 Did ve do id? Look by der papers und see by your eye. 
 How we blow up dem factories und bridges shky high. 
 You bet dere vas plendy, lige fadder, mudder und me. 
 Who say to hell mit **01d vjiory" und der land of der free. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 15 
 
WOULDN'T IT JAR YOU 
 
 Have you ever stood on the dock at New York, Bos- 
 ton or other sea ports and watched a drove of emmigrants 
 disembark from Hamburg liners? Note the antedeluvian 
 garments worn by them, the cute little "back number" 
 trunks and carpet bags that held their all in goods and 
 chattels, and, as they followed an emigrant agent up to 
 where they got aboard an emigrant train enroute to their 
 destination. ''Wouldn't it jar you" to think that such a 
 bunch, liberated from the thraldom of militarism, from the 
 bowing and scraping to arrogant, cynical prigs, equipped 
 with rat sized brains and peacock sized vanity, whose only 
 title to greatness was that inbreeding had turned the one 
 time plebian red corpuscles that coursed through their an- 
 atomy blue, that these haughty parodies on manhood and 
 those of their kind, had for generations lived on the fat of 
 the land and dressed in purple and fine linen, while the 
 bunch in the emigrant car were — well, take a slant at 'em 
 and then think that from the time they came into the 
 world there never was a minute that those domineering, 
 gold laced, imbred monstrosities did not own and control 
 their every movement and run them just as a wandering 
 mountebank owns the performing bears he leads with a 
 ring in his snout. Then, if like the writer, you had for 
 a few years done your share towards making America a 
 land of peace and plenty, had fought Indians, rebels and 
 Mormons, wouldn't it jar you to, or could you conceive by 
 the widest stretch of imagination that (take another look 
 at that emigrant train) with the Goddess of Liberty, with 
 torch aloft, still in plain vew, anything in human guise 
 could ever be tempted to — but as Shakespeare put it : 
 
 I am rapt and cannot cover 
 
 The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude 
 
 With any size of words. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 16 
 
HOW HUNS CRUCIFIED A KITTEN 
 
 All lovers of animals will shudder at this part of Har- 
 vey Johnson's story, told in the American Magazine. 
 Johnson is a 14-year-old boy who has fought "over there," 
 and in telling of his experience he says: 
 
 "Talking about animals makes me think of something 
 I'll never forget if I live to be a hundred. You've heard 
 what the Germans have done to men and women, and 
 even to babies. And mebbe this won't seem much alongside 
 of these things. But — well. Somehow it seems to me the 
 meanest piece of deviltry a grownup man could stoop to. 
 
 "It was down on the Somme, when we were pushing 
 the Germans back. We came into a ruined j/illage close 
 behind them, and I saw a broken tree trunk lying across 
 a pile of bricks. And on that tree trunk was a kitten — 
 and it was crucified there! I guess you'd call it crucified! 
 Three of its little paws were fastened to the wood with 
 bayonets. The fourth was hanging free — and the little 
 thing was still mewing. Oh, Gee! You know, you just 
 looked at that little kitten and you wanted to cry! Of 
 course I was a man and I didn't. But you don't know how 
 that made me feel. Can you think of men doing a thing 
 like that? I supose they figured that we'd believe they 
 were reg-ular devils, and be afraid of them. They ain't 
 got the right kind of sense. We did think they were devils, 
 all right. But you'll fight that kind of devil and wish you 
 had a hundred hands to do it with." 
 
 17 
 
MEIN SON GOTLEIB 
 
 Mein son Gotleib vas read me by der paber dot Yer- 
 many vas nod so mooch ven id come by invensions. 
 
 Dot we vas quiger stealing oder men's brains, der 
 paber id say, dot ve not invension dot flyink machine. 
 Dot der flyink masheen und der boat vat goes mit der 
 vater on der top of id yust so veil as id go mit der vater 
 on der bottom of id, vas gome from Ameriga, v^here dot 
 funnygraft vot talks und mages sveed moosic come from. 
 Dis paber id say dot dem masheen to plough und cut der 
 wheat by der wholesale und dot sewink macheen or dot 
 telephone or dot telegraph to go mit wire or go mit air, 
 id vas not invensioned by Yermany. But let me asg you 
 kindly, did dot ''scrap of paber" dot set der vorld on fire 
 come from Ameriga or vas id invensioned by Yermany, 
 to show der vorld dot Yermany vas shmart enough to 
 mage treachery a fine art lige moosic or painting? Yer- 
 many did not want dis war til der time vas ripe, den she 
 touch off dat "scrap of paber," und by yimminey der blaze 
 lit oop der vorld. Did Yermany invension dot "scrap of 
 paber?" Asg dem Allies who invensioned cutting off baby's 
 hands und invensioned cutting dem tongues from der 
 baby's mothers so dey vould haf troubles of their own und 
 not be able to mage so mooch fuss over der baby's — Yer- 
 many did. It vas Yermany dot crucify dem captured 
 soldiers to keep dem quiet. Vas it Yermany dot inven- 
 sioned new methods of spreading misery, blight and deso- 
 lation ober der vorld? I guess maybee dot paber not so 
 shmard when id say Yermany vas not so mooch by inven- 
 sions, eh? 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 18 
 
HELL IN AN UPROAR 
 
 The Earl of Hell to his imps one day, 
 
 Called them to him and thus did say : 
 
 Skip up on earth and bring to me 
 
 The meanest, measliest cur you see. 
 
 Just Avait, said he, as he took a look 
 
 Through the asbestos pages of his memorandum book — 
 
 Soon a jealous gleam shot from his eye, 
 
 He slammed shut the book, roared get this guy : — 
 
 His imps expectant, still standing 'round, 
 
 The Earl switched his tail, 'n' roared 'n' growled: 
 
 Why in Helligoland wait ! Go get him quick, 
 
 For beating me to it, I'll make him sick, 
 
 There is but one Hell and I 'm its chief, 
 
 Won't play second fiddle to that sneak thief. 
 
 Here, Nero (his aide) drew the Earl's attention 
 
 To the fact that the name of the guy 
 
 He had failed to mention : 
 
 Helen D. Amnation, roared the Earl, I thought you 
 
 wiser. 
 Whom could I mean, but that beast, the Kaiser. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 19 
 
BY A DAM SITE 
 
 "Two minds tuith hut a single tjiought, two hearts 
 that heat as one.'^ 
 
 By a dam site I am sitting, 
 (Iluns have blown the dam away) 
 Sitting thinking of my girlie, 
 And a little cottage gray. 
 As I ponder, memory wanders, 
 To that loved one 'cross the sea. 
 Of the words I said to her 
 And the words she said to me. 
 
 Said I the Kaiser, 
 
 Language fails me said she, 
 
 Its the Kaiser 
 
 That takes you from me. 
 
 The mad dog of Europe 
 
 The Beast of Berlin, 
 
 To let him liver longer 
 
 Is a crime and a sin. 
 
 And etc., etc., etc. 
 
 Yes, I replied, he's a beast all right, all right. 
 
 And overlooked a bet, when he thought we wouldn't 
 
 figlit, 
 For we 're long on vitality, and when we hit our stride. 
 The mad dog and his litter, will need a place to hide. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 20 
 
Ma7i fear'lessly his voice far truth should raise, 
 When truth would force its way in deed or word, 
 Whether the popular voice of unbelief is heard, 
 Like the first martyrs, when his voice arose 
 Distinct above the hissing of his foes. 
 
 — Phoebe Gary. 
 
 TRUTH 
 
 A Treatise on Vampires. 
 
 T»ruth impels me, my friends, this tale to unfold. 
 
 It relates not to stacks of silver or gold ; 
 
 Not of broad acres or mountains of coal. 
 
 It tells of those wrongs that harass the soul. 
 
 That harass the soul of those with loved ones now 
 fighting 
 
 "Somewhere in France," wrongs of humanity right- 
 ing. 
 
 Of vampires at home as heartless as shrimps; 
 
 Price hoisting ''white slavers" as souless as pimps. 
 
 No traitors today outside of prison and camps 
 
 Do more to defeat us than those snake blooded vamps. 
 
 If we would win this war with the Huns, 
 
 The treatment for grafters should be hemp, lead pills 
 and guns. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 21 
 
NEVER AGAIN 
 
 Never again on land or sea 
 
 Should favor be shown to Germany, 
 
 With the world at large 
 
 The Hun's '^in bad"— 
 
 Forfeited every right he had. 
 
 No crime too cruel for a Hun to do, 
 
 To honor long since Huns bade adieu. 
 
 Despised and hated, while time shall last, 
 
 For the treacherous sneaks 
 
 The die is cast. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 22 
 
EDITH CAVELL 
 
 German kulture, fit for vulture, 
 Be anathema evermore, 
 German hordes forever banished, 
 Far from every friendly shore. 
 Death, Devastation, Desolation 
 Be their award for dastard deed 
 That made a world with horror gasp. 
 And curse the whole inhuman breed. 
 
 In distant ages yet to come, 
 Wherever freedom's baanners float. 
 On mainland, island, sea or ocean. 
 Be it near or far remote. 
 This dastard deed we'll not forget, 
 Wherever manly men may dwell, 
 'Twill nerve each man to do his duty, 
 Avenge, avenge, Edith Gavell. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 23 
 
SAMMY 
 
 The Declaration of Independence tells us that we hold 
 these truths self evident — that all men are created equal, 
 that they are endowed by their Creator with certain in- 
 alienable rights; that among these, are life, liberty and the 
 pursuit of happiness. 
 
 Our brave, brainy, loveable boys over here and "over 
 there" are clearly demonstrating with our brave Allies, 
 that these truths are worth fighting for and if need be, 
 worth dying for, demonstrating to their bullet-headed 
 foes that RIGHT always has sooner or later won out 
 against MIGHT. The world at large (Huns excepted) 
 gladly and ungrudgingly concede that the boys from North 
 America and from that other new world at the antipodes 
 (Australia) are in a class by themselves and (for bravery 
 and every essential that makes for warriors) men equal 
 to any that history tells us of, and this, regardless of the 
 fact that they are handicapped with a silly kindergarten 
 name adapted to children, Sammy. For virile, red-blooded 
 scrappers equal to the best in the world, no wonder they 
 hate it. It is the one step from the sublime to the ridiculous. 
 
 As one said not long since to me: Sammy! why don't 
 they call us sissies and let it go at that. Say, Fred, does 
 that look like a sissies' fist, and he shut up a fist that 
 looked like a ham, crooking his elbow until his biceps 
 swelled up like the hump on a camel. Sammny, he sneered ! 
 Tom, said I, don't you know that "a rose by any other name 
 would smell just as sweet." That may be, he replied, but 
 us fellows ain't no roses or sweet violets, or we would not 
 get a "look in" in army, navy, marines or any other branch 
 of the service, without a pull. But, so long, Fred, its me 
 for old Camp Meade and the Sanitary Corps. So long 
 S-a-a- Tom, and the best of luck. Be sure and write me, 
 Tom. I want you on my list of thoroughbreds. I sure 
 will and he did. 
 
 24 
 
MEMO 
 
 In the early stage of the war or, to be exact, fall of 
 1914, when an outraged world got its first glimpse of Prus- 
 sian duplicity, bestiality, brutality and egotism of the 
 Beast of Berlin, a friend of mine handed me a pamphlet 
 entitled, 'The War that Was Foretold." At that time, 
 even England was not fully aroused and Italy had not 
 declared war. So vividly were pictured coming events in 
 this pamphlet, written by a master hand, Mr. Robert 
 Blatchford, editor of the Clarion, a Socialist magazine 
 published in England, that everything that has transpired 
 came in just as the pamphlet forewarned it would. Mr. 
 Gerard in his writings bears out everything Mr. Blatchford 
 foretold. And when I bade good-bye to some of the "Prin- 
 cess Pats" I did so instinctively feeling that they were 
 going to their doom. Der Faderland was written and dis- 
 tributed among the boys of the next contingent, and to 
 
 the few that seeped back to I attribute the boycot. 
 
 I made the mistake of thinking that Hun-Americans and 
 Americans were the same breed. I have lived long enough 
 to know better, in fact have known better for over three 
 years. There are many loyal German-Americans and alas 
 and alack several that would applaud the dear motherly old 
 soul, who when asked, should America be drawn into the 
 war, said, "I vould shtig a knife in mein besht neighbor's 
 back for Der Faderlandt." 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 25 
 
TRUE AMERICANS 
 
 War against wrong; war for the right. 
 
 For blessing of freedom are willing to fight. 
 
 Have no use for quitters; no use for a sneaK; 
 
 No use for the cur with a yellow streak. 
 
 For kiddies, their mothers, sisters, sweethearts and wives, 
 
 Our brothers, sons, lovers, are now giving their lives. 
 
 If our brothers must face shrapnell shells, poison, gas, 
 
 Why not death to all traitors and sneaks of that class. 
 
 Who sneer at our efforts to insure them freedom and 
 
 wealth. 
 Yet plot to frustrate and destroy us by stealth — 
 
 Get the HUN or the HUN will get you. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 A. p. GARDNER, W. W. LUFKIN, 
 
 Sixth District of Massachusetts Secretary 
 
 COMMITTEE ON WAYS AND MEANS 
 HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES 
 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 May 7, 1917. 
 F. E. Bennett, 
 My Dear Sir: 
 
 I beg to acknowledge receipt of your postcard on the 
 subject of True Americans which I have read with interest. 
 
 A. P. GARDNER, 
 
 When Hon. A. Peabody Gardner, whose body today 
 is in Arlington cemetery, Washington, D. C, as proof 
 positive that he was a "True American," could find time 
 and his innate courtesy prompted the above, why could not 
 others have done the same — echo answers. Why? 
 
 26 
 
George A. Hubbell, Ph. D., William S. Shields, 
 
 President Treasurer 
 
 LINCOLN MEMORIAL UNIVERSITY 
 
 HARROGATE, TENNESSEE 
 
 A Living Memorial Sustained by a Grateful People 
 
 May 11, 1917. 
 Mr. Fred Bennett, 
 
 Port Huron, Michigan. 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Thank you for your patriotic message to our students. 
 Cordially yours, 
 
 WALTER E. BRYSON, 
 Secretary of the University. 
 
 WHY WAS IT 
 
 When "True Americans" merited a reply from this 
 university when it came to it, merely written on a postal 
 card, that some of our pacifist congressmen and public 
 men could not or did not accord it the same courtesy, 
 when the writer took especial pains to write it plainly and 
 distinctly on similar postal cards to the one forwarded 
 Lincoln University, and in the case of Bryan forwarded 
 him one to three different cities, was it a breach of 
 etiquette or what? 
 
 UNITED STATES FOOD ADMINISTRATION 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 June 29, 1918. 
 Mr. F. E. Bennett, 
 Port Huron, Michigan. 
 My Dear Mr. Bennett: — 
 
 Mr. Hoover has asked me to thank you for your recent 
 letter telling of some of your activities. We are now 
 
 27 
 
getting to the place where everybody must do the best he 
 
 can and preach the gospel that every action of life should 
 
 be based on its relation to the battle line in Europe. This 
 
 not only applies to food, but to any place where there is 
 
 waste of any kind, including energy. You already seem 
 
 to be doing your bit, and I know that anything that is done 
 
 to cheer up the boys at the front is very mu^h appreciated. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 U. S. FOOD ADMINISTRATION, 
 
 Educational Division, 
 
 By T. A. Ellis. 
 
 FAIR PLAY IS A JEWEL 
 
 As a stalwart pleasant faced man, unmistakably 
 German, seated himself beside me in the car, I said to him 
 smilingly, "You look Chicago to me." He gave me "the 
 once over," and said: "I vas Sheecago, vas you?" "No," 
 I replied, "not now. Though I lived there for many years, 
 know it from Evanston to Robey, and will always have a 
 warm spot in my heart for the old burg, and pleasant 
 memories of it." "She some town," said he; "I live there 
 twendy-three years, plendy good enough for me." 
 
 From this we drifted to war topics, and, thinking I 
 was treading on thin ice, I felt my way very circumspectly 
 until my friend by a word or two he let fall, "wised" me 
 up to the fact that whatever else he might be, he had but 
 little use for Germany. 
 
 This was his story: When I was a young man I put 
 in three years in the army or reserves, the same as the 
 rest, was bullied and bullyragged until when I quit I made 
 up my mind it was "never again" for me, but it was not 
 long before I received notice to hold myself in readiness to 
 
 28 
 
join on again as my services were needed as an instructor 
 in pontoon and other bridge work. I told my mother I was 
 going to jump the job and get out of the country. My 
 good old mother said: "You know best August, but they 
 will make it hard for me, mein son." I told her I would 
 make a home for us in Holland. It was not long before 
 they made her life a hell, to try and get my whereabouts 
 from her, and it was not long before she died of a broken 
 heart, because I was posted as a deserter. She did manage 
 to warn me through a friend never to go back and I never 
 did. A friend of mine whose time did not expire for a 
 year or so after mine, was not so lucky, however, as, when 
 he was discharged, a soldier friend went to the depot to see 
 him off. To his friend's dismay, he said the army can go 
 
 to for me now. An apparently innocent bystander (a 
 
 spotter) overheard him, and, tapping him on the shoulder 
 bade him go with him, and he got nine years at hard 
 labor for it, and I heard he died in prison. This country 
 is good enough for me and I have two sons enlisted, one in 
 the Army and one in the Marines. This country makes it 
 harder on loyal citizens of German descent, by not cinching 
 the disloyal ones. Some nice strong rope for them would 
 be right, and I would like to see them get what is coming 
 to them. I guess you see by the casualty lists some Ger- 
 man names as well and as many as those of other nation- 
 alities and any idiot that wants some of the same medicine 
 I got ought to be made to go to Germany and get it. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 29 
 
NOT 
 
 German Propaganda 
 
 In the pages of this book 
 
 If the covers don't convince you, 
 Just inside take a look. 
 
 Of German propaganda 
 For years we 've had our fill, 
 
 Have heard it in the valley, 
 Have heard it on the hill, 
 
 Have had it hot for breakfast. 
 Though not on the bill of fare ; 
 
 Have heard it on the street. 
 Have heard it everywhere. 
 
 It's time we got our hammer out 
 And, were not afraid to use it, 
 
 On Boche or Hun or anyone 
 Who got a welcome to our land 
 
 Simply to abuse it. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 30 
 
BELSHAZZER UP-TO-DATE 
 Chapter 1 
 
 When Belshazzer, back yonder, in days iv old, 
 
 Et what grub he et offen plates iv gold. 
 
 He thot he was ''It" with a capital "I" 
 
 'Till a line on tha wall he chanced ta spy. 
 
 When he red what it sed in some foreign tung, 
 
 He felt like a man what 's lost a lung. 
 
 ''Mene, Mene Tekal Upharsin," was writ on tha wall, 
 
 So calling his lickspittal toady's great an' small, 
 
 Sez he ta the bunch of 'em, answer me quick. 
 
 Which one of you Muts was it done that trick ? 
 
 Nary one answered, but one of 'em ran 
 
 En brung in a fortune teller ez wuz knowed ez Dan. 
 
 Chapter 2 
 
 Well — inta tha dinin' room Dan'l wuz brot, 
 
 ' ' Mene, Mene, Tekal Upharsin ' ' his eye soon caught. 
 
 An' bein' a profit, he wrinkled his brow; 
 
 Stud lookin' wise for a minnit, then med a bow. 
 
 Ta Belshazzer an' sez he ''01 Scout" 
 
 This is tha meanin' ez I makes it out. 
 
 Iv ' ' Mene, Mene Tekal Upharsin, ' ' them words on tha 
 
 wall, 
 Yeh've bin gittin' too chesty, an' is doo fer a fall. 
 
 31 
 
Chapter 3 
 
 Now you alls knows that all bibles tell 
 
 How Nebikidnezzer, Belshazzer's dad, fell, 
 
 To whar he kep comp'ny with sheeps, oxens an' asses. 
 
 An' his diet c'nsisted of 'erbs, grain an' grasses, 
 
 Mene, Mene, etcetery for der Kaiser, is now on tha 
 
 wall, 
 An' means Kaiser Bill is doo fer a fall. 
 So far an' fast will he fall, it will make of him meat, 
 An' he'll need neither 'erbs, grain or grasses to eat. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 SAND 
 
 No hurdle you may have to jump. 
 
 But others have jumped before. 
 
 It is up to you, to clear 'em or flunk. 
 
 As others have done of yore. 
 
 So as you reach them one by one. 
 
 By them be not dismayed. 
 
 You're chances of winning are ten to one 
 
 If you tackle them unafraid. 
 
 Tho dark the way, the hurdles high, 
 
 Tho chances of winning seem few. 
 
 An adage old and oftimes used. 
 
 May prove of use to you. 
 
 'Tis "what man has done, still man may do," 
 
 Take from me this friendly tip. 
 
 Put on more speed, don't loose your nip. 
 
 And you'll pull safely through. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 32 
 
SCOTCH SERMON 
 
 The dominie of a little Presbyterian kirk, 'way up in 
 the north woods, being too ill to preach, called on one of 
 his deacons to conduct the services and take his place in 
 the pulpit. McDougall, the deacon, was a typical Scot 
 and a brawny and double fisted son of Scotia, noted for his 
 prowess in many a knock down and drag out argument, 
 when such arguments were a necessity as they sometimes 
 were in that locality. No one knew more regarding this 
 than did Sandy McDougall himself and of the clan Mc- 
 Dougall in general. 
 
 Sandy's method of conducting the services were quite 
 proper and orthodox, but when Sandy came to the sermon 
 he had a way peculiarly his own, at least, so the story goes. 
 
 "Ma dear brethren and seesters," Sandy announced. 
 "I ha bin axed be our b'luved pastor to conduc' tha sar- 
 vices durin' tha lassitude o' his indeeposition. I prasume 
 ye a' ken that a McDougall id be the ane caad on for ta 
 fill sick a rasponsible poseetion." 
 
 After the hymn he had given out had been sung. 
 Brother Hector McDougall was called on to lead in prayer, 
 after which Sandy announced that his text would be taken 
 from that portion of Holy Writ that recounts the slaying 
 of Goliath by David. As he read his text he expatiated 
 on the bravery displayed by young David, after this fash- 
 ion: 
 
 "Ma dear hearers, I prasume that mony o' ye are 
 aware o' tha fac' that wee David's name was McDougall. 
 Larned men wi who 1 ha conversed all concur, that joo ta 
 a geographical error this fac' has been owerlooked. Ye 
 all weel ken that wee Davey's faathers name wor Jesse. 
 We ha a Jesse McDougall in tha kirk wi us tha day. We 
 ha also wi us tha day, Davey McDougall, a leenial da- 
 cendant o' tha Davey mentioned in oor text. Tha Scrip- 
 turs tell us that this big braw brute Goliath went aroun' 
 throwin' oot his chist an' thumpin' it like yon roarin' 
 howlin' goreela; that he wint bangin' aroun' tauntin' tha 
 neebors that he cud clean up tha whole bunch, oor tex tells 
 us tha beeg brute got chesty ane day an' wint roarin' like 
 a bull o' bashon (whatever kin' iv a quadthrooped that is) 
 
 33 
 
an' threatenin' ta start a 'rough house' an' clane up tha 
 whole community. Wee Davey we are tol' in oor leson 
 iv tha day, comes along wi' a bit sling and tho a wee bairn, 
 tha McDougall in his bluid coldna stan' tha braggin' o' 
 tha brute, so pickin' up a sma stane he fits it til his sling 
 wi a whirl or twa, away gangs tha stane an' gangin' troo 
 ta tha marrk hits tha dom beeg domineerin' brute twixt 
 tha ees an' all bets were off." 
 
 Kaiser Bill — Beware of the Black Watch, they're 
 Scotch. 
 
 PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 
 
 Pick the Winner 
 
 Pessimist and Optimist, while walking met one day. 
 Pessimist sighed deeply and ta Optimist did say : 
 Thar ain't no wheat nor taters, en I've heard thar 
 
 ain't a bean, 
 It's tha gloomiest sitiwation that ever I has seen. 
 In cose we hev if sugar beets en other hot house stuff, 
 Six hundred thousand millyun tons, but shucks that 
 
 ain't enough. 
 Ole man Optimist he snickered, an' ta Pessimist he 
 
 sed: 
 Things id be a good deal worser, if we war sick abed, 
 Ef our critters all lied lumpy jaw, our bosses all hed 
 
 bots., 
 Our hogs all lied hog kollera an' our chickens chicken- 
 
 pox. 
 Our kiddies all lied measles, our wife tic dulleroo. 
 I'm free to say I'd ax yeh, what air we goin' ta do — 
 But stick a pin in this my fren'. Its a solemncholy 
 
 fact, 
 But once we die and when we do, we stay long dead 
 
 at that. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 34 
 
ONE DAY AT A TIME 
 
 One day at a time! that's all it can be: 
 No faster than that is the hardest fate; 
 
 And the days have their limits, however we 
 Begin them too early or stretch them too late. 
 
 One day at a time; every heart that aches 
 Knowing only too well how long they can seem, 
 
 But its never a day which the spirit breaks — 
 It's the darkened future without a gleam. 
 
 One day at a time! when joy is at height — 
 Such joy as the heart can never forget 
 
 And pulses are throbbing with wild delight, 
 How hard to remember that suns may set. 
 
 One day at a time! but a single day. 
 Whatever its load, whatever its length : 
 
 And there's a bit of precious Scripture to say 
 That according to each shall be our strength. 
 
 One day at a time! 'Tis the whole of life. 
 All sorrow, all joy, are measured therein. 
 
 The bound of our purpose, our noblest strife 
 The only countersign sure to win. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 35 
 
POINTERS FREE 
 From Sam of Carolina, to Pete from Tennessee 
 
 Hello Pete! yo suah look good 
 In clem Kaky elos', I des knowed yo would. 
 Squar up dem sholdahs, see — des lak me, 
 , I done bin yer three weeks yo see; 
 Shake off dat hump yo got cotton pickin', 
 Trow out dat chist, lak a bantam chicken. 
 Pull in dat paunch, hoi' up dat chin. 
 Put on dat look dat say "we win." 
 When we goes *'somewar" to fight dem boches, 
 Dat's bin so cocksure, an' dam atrocious, 
 We mak dem tink when dey see us fight, 
 For da whol' dam bunch it is "good night." 
 When dat sergent shout lak dis, "Comp'ny 'tention"- 
 Just 'member what I gwine ta mention. 
 Eyes front, mean look straight ahead, 
 Es stiff"'es starch, alive, not dead. 
 Sholdah Ahms means, do lak dis, 
 Od'ah Ahms mean, do lak dat. 
 When I come yer — I didn't know 
 'Till da sargent show me how. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 86 
 
"OVER HERE" AND "OVER THERE" 
 
 The compiler of these pages, while no family ties have 
 been broken by this beastly war, simply because he is the 
 last of his line, yet feels as deeply interested in his family 
 of good, bright, brainy boys with whom he corresponds, 
 as if family ties bound him to them, and he embraces this 
 opportunity to call the attention of "all whom it may con- 
 cern," to the fact that the majority of the boys "over 
 there" are very, very human, and need all the encourage- 
 ment it is possible for those they left behind them to give 
 them. Keep a letter or a bunch of newspaper clippings 
 on the road to them at least once a week. Let the clippings 
 be a:long the lines you know they are most interested in. 
 Base ball scores, scrapping matches and any thing you 
 think would interest the very "creme de la creme" of red- 
 blooded American boys, who are an honor not only to their 
 families, but an honor to every American under "the Flag" 
 that floats over us. Cut out gloom, this is "a fight to a 
 finish." They are proving worthy of you; prove by your 
 actions that you are worth fighting for. Show them that 
 "blood is thicker than water." Imagine if you can, the 
 horrors those boys are fighting so heroically to defend you 
 from. Gloat over the fact that such men and boys deern 
 yon worth fighting for, and when that seeps into your 
 inner consciousness, go down in your jeans and come across 
 with every dollar you can spare that will show them that 
 we are a nation of thoroughbreds and not willing to let 
 them do it all. Every dollar over cost of this edition of 
 "Hell In An Uproar" will be donated to Red Cross and 
 kindred associations by 
 
 THE COMPILER. 
 F. E. B. 
 
 37 
 
WHO IS RESPSONSIBLE FOR THE ATROCITIES? 
 
 Kaiser Shares It With His People and All Deserve Punishment 
 
 BY PHELAN FYNE, 
 
 Special Correspondent of The Detroit Free Press 
 
 Atrocities have been perpetrated in Belgium, France, 
 Serbia, Russia, Rumania, Poland, Albania, Italy, Armenia, 
 and elsewhere by German military officers and men, or by 
 German orders or consent. Instances are so numerous 
 that to record them all would require many more than 
 the volumes already printed about them. They have every- 
 where been so uniformly wreaked as to be recognized as a 
 settled policy if there were no German advocacy of fright- 
 fulness on land and sea to prove the point. Now, who is 
 responsible for this policy of atrocities? 
 
 Frederic R. Coudert, New York authority on inter- 
 national law, is quoted as asserting that the German high 
 command is wholly responsible for the cruelties that have 
 made this war so horrible. He declared hideous crimes of 
 individual violence that were no part of the general policy 
 of repression by frightfulness have occurred, and the per- 
 petrators of these crimes should be punished, but the 
 major guilt lies with the high command, the members of 
 which should be held to responsibility as a condition of 
 peace. 
 
 Dr. Muhlin, the German who gave up his $100,000 a 
 year job as a director of the Krupp cannon factory and 
 went into exile in Switzerland to be able to tell the truth 
 without having his throat cut for his pains, has said this: 
 
 "The Germany emperor himself, in a harangue to a 
 party of officers, declared in effect that he now has pris- 
 oners enough and hopes the officers will see that no more 
 are taken. * * * What a sequel to the Kaiser's own 
 command in earlier days to the troops about to start on 
 
 38 
 
the Chinese expedition: *'No quarter will be given!" 
 
 An officer told him that in Belgium, in August, 1914: 
 ''Our soldiers have already taken to looting and pil- 
 laging to a very serious extent. * * * 'pj^g soldiers 
 have become brutalized. As they have incessantly fired 
 upon the population and ravaged ever so many villages, 
 they have pretty well lost all sense of proportion." 
 
 Not a voice that has made itself heard has been rais- 
 ed in Germany since the outbreak of the war in protest 
 against the policy of atrocities. Prisoners of war have 
 been shown no kindnesses even by stealth by anybody in 
 Germany. 
 
 These collated facts are sufficient to warrant the con- 
 clusion that barbarity is indorsed by both Kaiser and 
 people, by both civil and military authorities, and by 
 soldiers and civilians. Now, let Mr. Coudert make the 
 application: 
 
 "I think, in principle," said Mr. Coudert, ''that there 
 should be an international tribunal to punish offenses 
 against the laws of war, those laws of humanity which 
 civilized nations have believed should prevail, even in times 
 of war. If the belligerent cannot be trusted to punish 
 for such crimes, and in the case of Germany they were 
 part of the governmental policy and the military philos- 
 ophy, then the peace conference should make an arrange- 
 ment for the investigation of charges and punish men 
 where the guilt is found." 
 
 H. H. Windsor, in an editorial in Popular Mechanics, 
 urges that the punishment be made to fit the crimes of 
 Germany, and says: "As the first condition to peace, 
 there should be taken from Germany all her dangerous 
 weapons of warfare. All battleships, submarines, and 
 ships of war. All weapons and remaining ammunition of 
 her armies. All machinery used in the construction and 
 manufacture of same." 
 
 39 
 
COLOSSAL CALAMITY IN IMMATURE PEACE 
 
 Americans Awake to This Peril Demand a Permanent Settle- 
 ment. 
 
 BY H. H. WINDSOR, 
 In Popular Mechanics Magazine. 
 Steadily, but with progress so insidious and sldw as to 
 be at times unnoticed, the storm approached our own 
 shores and homes, until it" reached our very doors. Now 
 that an unscrupulous enemy lies in wait to sink hospital 
 ships bearing our own nurses and wounded; drops bombs 
 on our own hospitals behind the lines, and in its effort 
 to subjugate the nations of the world is responsible for 
 the casualty lists that face us daily, do we slowly begin 
 to absorb and comprehend that feeling of indignation and 
 hate which permeates to the remotest corner of the lands 
 of our allies. We at last begin slowly to realize the co- 
 lossal calamity of an immature peace. Until the cancer 
 has been cut out to its last fiber, until the Thing has been 
 utterly crushed, it were vain to even think of peace. 
 
 For the present, then, civilization has but one effort, one 
 purpose, and that is to win the war, but when the day 
 comes in which to consider the terms of peace, may we 
 think with deliberation and soberness, and not forget its 
 awful cost, and the necessity and responsibility of a right 
 and lasting settlement. 
 
 40 
 
INTERNED GERMAN IN SERIOUS PICKLE 
 
 Nowhere But in Germany Will He Be Able to Live After 
 Teuton Defeat. 
 
 BY EARL OF DERBY 
 
 There are some people who think — there may be some 
 people who hope — that Britain will be able to shake hands 
 with the Germans after the war and go on with trade. 
 
 There were some foes in past history who fought 
 cleanly with whom we were able afterwards to make up 
 our differences. I hope and believe that in Britain nobody 
 will ever forget, either in their own lifetime or to hand 
 down to their children's children, the memory of the sort 
 of fighting that the German has indulged in. 
 
 Do not let us forget it after the war, and let us hope 
 that some of those gentlemen who are now, or who are 
 being, interned may find that they have a happier home 
 on the other side of the water in Germany than they are 
 likely to have in Britain after the war. 
 
 I am perfectly certain that this war has been a revela- 
 tion to one and all as to the amount of peaceful penetra- 
 tion into our businesses which the Germans had obtain- 
 ed. Well, we have obtained the information, obtained it 
 in time, and I sincerely hope that peace, when it comes, 
 will not find us as unprepared as war did when it came, 
 to fight the battle of commerce with the Germans after 
 the war. 
 
 41 
 
BEFORE THA FURRINER SHWUNG THE PICK 
 
 A Lamentation. 
 In the days before tha furriner 
 
 Shwung tha shovels an' the picks, 
 An' ivery railroad built, 
 
 Was built by honest i\Iicks. 
 Things wuz thin far different. 
 
 An' money it wint free, 
 Fer sure as ever pay-day kem 
 
 Tha boys wint on a shpree. 
 
 Cliorus — 
 
 Thin hurroo boys, hurroo, 
 
 Tha money it ud fly. 
 For every mother's son av thim 
 
 Was a broth av a boy. 
 No millyunaire cud hit tha pike 
 
 An' go at sich a clip. 
 As tha boys that built the railroads 
 
 Afore tha furriners shwung tha pick. 
 
 Whin tha day's worrk it was over 
 
 An' aich man he tuk a shmoke, 
 Around tha ould camp-fire. 
 
 An' tha story, song an' joke 
 Wint flashin' 'round tha circle. 
 
 Sure 'twas thin y'd see tha grin 
 That opened up tha cavity 
 
 Just up above aich chin. 
 42 
 
There war Flannigans an' Brannigans, 
 
 Wid Foley an' Gillfoil, 
 There was Mulligan an' Hoolihan 
 
 Both fresh fr'm Erin's Isle. 
 Wid O'Halleran, 'Callahan, 
 
 O 'Shaughnessy, 'Toole, 
 As fine a lot iv tarriers 
 
 Ez ever shwung a tool. 
 
 Aich county in ould Oirland 
 
 Was riprisinted there, 
 Athlone, Armagh an' Anthrim, 
 
 There wor min fr'm everywhere. 
 An' whin yez mintion men, d'yeh moind, — 
 
 I'd not shwap tha scrawniest Mick, 
 Fer tha liveliest luckin' furriner 
 
 That ever shwung a pick. F. E. B. 
 
 43 
 
UNPREPAREDNESS 
 
 One time on the floor of a dance hall or what the 
 denisons of the wild and wooly west used to call a hurdy- 
 gurdy, in Las Vegas, N. M., a gentleman with two 44- 
 calibre gatlings neatly festooned round his hips, took 
 umbrage at another gentleman whom he thought was get- 
 ting too gay with the girl of his choice. The green-eyed 
 monster, "Jealousy," finally got beyond his control, and 
 taking the quid of tobacco from his mouth he hurled it with 
 much vehemance at the offending but festive youth, hitting 
 him in the eye with it. The gentleman so rudely awakened 
 from his dream of bliss, being unprepared for such rude- 
 ness, mildly remonstrated, saying the act was more atroci- 
 ous for the fact that the gentleman with the artillery was 
 aware of the fact that he never used toDacco in any form. 
 More than once this little incident has been recalled by me, 
 when reading the mouthings of yellow-streaked pacifists 
 who were not looking for trouble, while the bully was. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 AINT IT AWFUL MABEL? 
 
 Very prim and proper was the old soul, with an out- 
 look on life as narrow as her waist was broad. It was a 
 decided shock to her to come into the kitchen one day and 
 find her pretty parlor maid in a long and lingering em- 
 brace with a stranger. "Mary," she gasped, as she stag- 
 gered up against the door, "Mary, t-t-tell that young man 
 to 1-1-let go of you!" "Tell him yourself please ma-am," 
 replied the hand-maid coloring, "he is a perfect stranger 
 to me." 
 
 44 
 
IF 
 
 If treason were treated, as it should be, 
 And graft got a jolt in the neck, 
 Political shysters would be dumb as oysters, 
 Come down from their perches "By Heck." 
 
 Place-hunting sneaks, on a still hunt for pap, 
 With gall bags as big as ox bladders, 
 Would quick take a tumble and be very humble 
 If the rungs were knocked out of their ladders 
 
 What a land this would be, if from graft it were 
 free, 
 
 Unimpoverished, united we'd stand, 
 
 A heacon for peace, a bulwark 'gainst war, 
 
 Could tell 'em all to come on and be-deleted. 
 
 45 
 
DISCRIMINATION 
 
 Mr. Johnson (colored) whose wife had brought forth 
 a set of triplets, was so delighted that he called in every 
 speaking acquaintance he had and proudly showed them the 
 little flock. Among others, his friend Rafferty, was invited 
 in. Rafferty was a man noted for his deliberate methods 
 of pronunciation due to an impediment in his speech, in 
 fact Rafferty was a fluent stutterer. Rafferty gazed with 
 awe for a moment or so at the little midgets, then realiz- 
 ing that courtesy demanded he show more interest in the 
 exhibit, he pawed them over carefully and laying the 
 fattest and chubbiest to one side, he pointed to it with the 
 air of an expert and stuttered: "I'd k-k-keep t-t-that wan." 
 
 I TELL IT YOU AS 'TWAS TOLD TO ME 
 
 In a settlement far back from the haunts of the 
 "madding crowd" a fatal accident befell a young chap, 
 and, as they wanted to give him^ a good send-off, it was 
 decided to put a name plate on the rough casket. As the 
 locality had no one capable of painting the plate, it was 
 decided to compromise by simply putting the age of the 
 decedent on, but here again it was found that no one was 
 capable of making the figures 28 that would pass muster, 
 until one bright mind suggested that any ijit could make a 
 7 and as four times 7 made 28 they could get by. This 
 was done, and as a solemn visaged old prospecter was seen 
 approaching astride a diminutive mule with a little burro 
 waddling along packed with the prospecter's outfit, he was 
 hailed and everything explained to him excepting the name 
 plate. He was a typical Irishman, one of the kind that 
 rather prided himself on his forensic ability. He was 
 called on to say a few words. "My dear friends," said he, 
 "we are called together apon this solemn occasion to spake 
 a few words over tha ramains av our frind who has bin 
 taken from our midst so suddenly. Tha occasion is more 
 solemner due ta tha fac' that our frin' was taken from us 
 at tha early age av — " Here to refresh his memory he 
 glanced at the 7777 — "Holy shmoke," said he, "he was 
 borrn before the flood." 
 
 46 
 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS OVERLOOKS A BET 
 
 A Tale of the Far West 
 
 Enroute from Calgary to Edmonton, an affable middle 
 aged German got aboard at Red Deer and took a seat be- 
 side me. During the conversation that ensued, when asked 
 if he lived in Red Deer, "No," said he, "I belong in 
 Ameriga." 
 
 "What part?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, you voulden know id," he replied, "I'm fon Miz- 
 soury, fon a place called San Looey." 
 
 "Shake," said I, "I used to steamboat between St. 
 Louis and New Orleans, know St. Louis from Bremen to 
 Carondolet." 
 
 "Vas dot so!" said he. "I live by Breman (a suburb). 
 Shage," and he grabbed my hand and shook it with ardor. 
 
 "Do you know?" he added, "ven I gose back by Breman 
 und dells mein frients vat a fine coundrys dese iss, dey 
 von't pelieve id, und py yimminy vat I vonders at meinseluff 
 iss, why Kristopher Kolumpess don't discoverd id ven he 
 diskover Mizzoury." F. E. B. 
 
 47 
 
To change the subject, Horace Walpole tells us: 
 Life is a comedy to those who think, 
 A tragedy to those who feel. 
 
 While sovieone else tells us 
 
 It is better to smoke here than hereafter. 
 
 H. C. of L. rermnds most of us that 
 
 In the midst of life we are in debt. 
 
 But 
 
 The man who tells you of all his troubles becomes one of 
 
 yours. 
 That a man had better think twice before he speaks, then 
 
 talk to himself. 
 
 DECEIT 
 
 The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 
 An evil soul producing holy witness, 
 Is like a villian with a smiling face, 
 A goodly apple rotten to the core. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 If Mr. S. had not crossed the "Big Divide" so long 
 ago, one would infer he meant Kaiser Bill. 
 
 Samuel Johnson tells us 
 
 The diminutive chains of habit are seldom heavy 
 enough to be felt 'til they are too strong to be broken. — 
 P. S. — It seems too bad the "Beast of Berlin" got the 
 habit of thinking he was "the whole works." It is up to 
 us to break him of it, with a jolt in the neck. 
 
 48 
 
True hope is swift and flys with swallow's wings, 
 Kings it makes gods and meaner creatures kings. 
 P. S. — Probably written before kings were going into 
 the discard. 
 
 Fo7^ pacifists 
 
 Our doubts are traitors, 
 
 And makes us lose the good we oft 
 
 By fearing to attempt might win. 
 
 SJiakespcare. 
 
 INGRATITUDE 
 
 There is not any one vice incident to the mind of man 
 against which the world has raised such a loud and uni- 
 versal outcry as against ingratitude. 
 
 Sou they. 
 
 Stand up and be counted, please. 
 
 A chapter or two devoted to poetical quotations 
 from Grave to Gay, from Lively to Severe. 
 
 SHAKESPEARIAN QUOTATIONS 
 Fear 
 
 Of all base passions, fear is most accursed. 
 Fop 
 The soul of this man is in his clothes. 
 Fortitude 
 
 Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate. 
 To grace it with your sorrow; bid that welcome, 
 Which comes to punish us, and we punish it. 
 Seeming to bear it lightly. 
 
 Fortune 
 
 When fortune means to men most good 
 She looks upon them with a threatening eye. 
 Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered. 
 
 49 
 
Friend 
 
 Who, in want, a hollow friend doth try, 
 Directly seasons him an enemy. 
 
 Grave 
 
 Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! 
 Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, 
 Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, 
 No voice, but silence and eternal sleep. 
 
 Greatness 
 
 Some are born great: — some achieve greatness; — 
 Some have greatness thrust upon them. 
 
 Grief 
 
 A plague of sighing and grief! It 
 Blows a man up like a bladder, 
 Softens the mind and makes it degenerate. 
 Care is no cure, but rather corrosive 
 For things that are not to be remedied. 
 
 A chapter or two devoted to poetical quotations from 
 Grave to Gay, from Lively to Severe. 
 
 DESPAIR 
 
 Despair was never yet so deep. 
 
 In sinking as in seeming: 
 Despair is hope just dropped to sleep. 
 
 For better chance of dreaming. 
 
 Southey, 
 
 A TOAST 
 
 Here's a health to all that we love, 
 Here's health to all that love us. 
 Here's health to all those that love them. 
 That love those that love them that love us. 
 
 Archbishop Dennisoyi. 
 
 50 
 
A LITTLE GEM SAID TO HAVE BEEN THE WORK OF 
 
 A MANIAC 
 
 Probably the mass of prison poetry which has been 
 written on stools and cot stands and scratched on prison 
 walls, exceeds that which has found expression on paper 
 and many a "mute inglorious Milton" has begun and fin- 
 ished his career with these lost to sight productions, the 
 following lines are said to have been scratched by a maniac 
 on the wall of his cell : 
 
 "Could I with ink the ocean fill. 
 
 Were all the world of parchment made, 
 Were every reed on earth a quill, 
 
 And every man a scribe by trade; 
 To write the love of God alone, 
 Would drain that ocean dry. 
 Nor could the scroll contain the whole. 
 Though stretched from sky to sky." 
 
 While comparisons are said to be odious — from the 
 "Riibaiyat" of Omar Khayyam, one of the 7nost frequently 
 quoted books extant, we quote without comment. 
 XLIX 
 'Tis all a chequer-board of nights and days 
 Where destiny with men for Pieces plays: 
 Hither and thither moves and mates and. slays. 
 And one by one back in the closet lays. 
 
 L 
 The ball no question makes of ayes and noes, 
 But right or left, as strikes the player goes; 
 And he that toss'd thee down into the field. 
 He knows about it all — he knows — he knows, 
 
 LI 
 The moving finger writes; and having writ, 
 Moves on: nor all thy piety nor wit. 
 Shall lure it back to cancel half a line. 
 Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it. 
 
 LIT 
 And that inverted bowl we call the sky, 
 Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, 
 Lift not thy hands to it for help — for it 
 Rolls impotently on as thou or I. 
 51 
 
A little health, a little wealth 
 
 A little home and freedom : 
 
 With some few friends for certain ends, 
 
 But little cause to need 'em. 
 
 Ano7i. 
 
 ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS 
 
 Question — What is the difference between a crooked 
 politician and a sneak thief. 
 Answer — None. 
 
 Question — To what do you attribute the H. C. of L. 
 Answer — Graft. 
 
 Question — If the Pilgrim Fathers could look up from 
 their graves or could hear the pleas of vote hunting- 
 pacifists, in your opinion would they extol their merit or, 
 what? 
 
 Answer — Roll over. 
 
 Question — What does the prefix, Hon., we sometimes 
 see before names, stand for? 
 
 Answer — In some cases it should stand for Rats. 
 
 Question — Do you believe "a stitch in time saves nine." 
 Answer — Look over the back track. 
 
 Question — What keeps some churches empty? 
 Answer — Ask a phrenologist. 
 
 Question — In a "melting pot," such as the U. S. has 
 been called, what should be done with refractory ores 
 that won't fuse? 
 
 Answer — Chuck 'em out and put the mines they came 
 from taboo. 
 
 52 
 
CHAP. 31, "OVER THE HURDLES" 
 
 By F. E. B. 
 
 "A WILD GOOSE CHASE" 
 
 Being Postmaster and having several mail routes to 
 distribute mail to, I was busy one morning when Scotty, 
 who had the Gentile Valley route, arrived. Scotty v/as a 
 man that always put me in mind of Sir Walter Scott's 
 Roderick Dhu. 
 
 Gentile Valley, by the way, had a nearly solid Mormon 
 population. 
 
 I heard Scotty and some of the prospectors that used 
 to toast their shins at a big box stove in the store yam- 
 mering over a couple of specimens of quartz. Scotty was 
 inclined to be sarcastic, and, said he, passing them around, 
 why dinna ye bring in rock like yon, ye sit here toastin' 
 yer shins an whin ye da gang oot, come back wi speciments 
 o' rock that wud na do til bild a pig pen wi. 
 
 His specimens evoking very favorable comments, I 
 got interested. Where did you get 'em Scotty? I asked. 
 
 I got em in tha Mink Creek country, said he. 
 
 This section was some forty miles from where we 
 were, and while a broken rugged section that might prove 
 rich in mineral, it never had, and some of the boys around 
 the stove claimed to have prospected it mighty close. 
 
 Scotty, in a tantalizing mood, due as I thought to his 
 long dreary drive of sixty miles, went on, ye'er alers goin 
 ta set tha world afire whin tha noos gits oot aboot yer 
 wonderfu finds, en thots ez far ez ye gits, ye brings in 
 speciments o rock as wouldna show a color ta a ton, an 
 blows yer sells ta git it assayed doon ta Salt Lake Ceety, 
 whin it wad pay ye better ta be sayin yeer prayers. Why 
 dinna ye prospec' fer rock like yon, as he fondled it before 
 wrapping it up with ostentatious care. 
 
 On being plied with questions as to where he found it, 
 he for a minute or so treated the questioner with silent 
 contempt, finally loosening up to the extent of admitting 
 he had got it not more nor forty miles away. 
 
 I had taken no part in the conversation up to this 
 point, but seeing Scotty evidently on the point of leaving, I 
 chipped in, with. Say, Scotty, I stand in don't I? 
 
 I dinna ken whether ye da or na, Freddie ma boy, 
 
 53 
 
pre'haps iv ye hev ony gelt, I've been speerin for yon 
 soart iv rock mony's the lang day. An I'm figgerin it's 
 nigh aboot time me name war changed to summit more 
 nor Scotty an me okipation from bein' a one horse mail 
 contracther ta bein a gentleman iv leezure. Mony's the 
 time I've pictered maself walkin the streets iv auld Edin- 
 bro toon wi' a silk dicer on me cranium an the pockets ov 
 me bulging out wi' yellow boys. I'm feelin nigher it noo 
 nor I ever was afore, since I left old Scotia, even if I have 
 na got the price for what ud wet ma whustle. Hev ye got 
 the deesposition ta buy, Fred? 
 
 Why yes, said I, I will go you once if I loose. And as 
 we went down to the row factory, he threw his arm loving- 
 ly across my shoulder and assured me that he always in- 
 tended that I should stand in, and under the inspiration of 
 a couple of hookers of coffin varnish, he impai"ted to me the 
 fact, that on his last trip the Mormon Bishop had entrusted 
 him with Twenty Dollars to take to a rancher on his route, 
 but he had spent the money and although he knew he could 
 square himself by imparting to the Bishop the information 
 he was so desirous I should have, he was loath to do so, 
 knowing the Mormon Church frowned on anything that 
 tended to bring Gentiles into that section. 
 
 As I knew this to be the case, and was as anxious that 
 Gentiles should come in as the Mormon Church was to 
 keep them out, I readily told him I would lend him Twenty 
 Dollars to square himself. So profuse was he of his thanks 
 that he was slobbery, and assured me that now, as he had 
 no need for further worriting, he would go at once and 
 make a rough sketch of the route and location of the 
 ledge, etc. 
 
 As I was leaving him he called me back and putting 
 his finger on his lips he cautioned me that mum was the 
 word. How'll ye be goin,? said he. 
 
 I named a couple I would like to take with me, one of 
 them a Texan known as a bad man with a gun when riled 
 up and very quick on trigger. To this one, Scotty so 
 strongly objected that I passed him up. I picked on two 
 others that had good horses and knew good ore when they 
 saw it, and with Scotty's specimen in my pocket and his 
 assurance that he would loose no time in sketching location 
 and best way to reach it, I felt at peace with all the world, 
 and blushingly accepted the congratualtions of my two 
 
 54 
 
friends on my adroitness in loosening Scotty up and secur- 
 ing the sample. 
 
 My friends were both good mountaineers and pros- 
 pectors. 
 
 When Scotty brought the map, it was a very creditable 
 piece of work, and as Johnnie Holland, one of my friends, 
 said, worth its weight in gold. 
 
 So sure were we of the future that Hy said he reck- 
 oned he would go to breeding Clyde horses, while I, though 
 I said nothing, hoped to be able to put a crimp in the Mor- 
 mon Church that would make them sorry they had estab- 
 lished their *'New Stake of Zion," (as they called each addi- 
 tional settlement they succeeded in whipping into line) in 
 such close proximity to me. 
 
 I had a hay ranch out about two miles from the little 
 town, on which I had built a good log house, and we settled 
 on this for a rendezvous. The boys were to take grub, 
 blankets, etc., out there and when people were settling 
 down for the night I was to saddle up and we would all 
 start from there. This we did. 
 
 The night was starlit and we were making good pro- 
 gress when Hy said he knew of an old Indian trail that 
 would cut off several miles and give us a good place to 
 ford Bear River, a swift running river that headed up in 
 the Wasatch Range, and had a bad reputation for swift 
 current and few places where it could be safely forded. 
 He did not think it impracticable, however. 
 
 We took it and after floundering through bogs, tumb- 
 ling into and climbing out of canyons, bear wallows and 
 gulches, morning found us huddled on the banks of Bear 
 River, at a place where fording was most dangerous. 
 
 Anxiety to reach the Eldorado of Scotty's map urged 
 us to cross at all hazards. The river bed we could see 
 was composed of large cobble stones and boulders, making 
 bad footing for our horses. Swollen by fall rains, it was 
 a dangerous proposition. After several attempts, finding 
 something must be done to brace up our pack horse, (our 
 camp outfit made him somewhat top heavy), we finally 
 fastened our lariats together, securing the center of the 
 line thus made to the down stream side of the animal, one 
 going ahead and one behind holding this line as taut as 
 possible, it helped to prevent him being swept off his feet. 
 It fell to my lot to lead the pack horse and keep my horse, 
 
 55 ':. , " 
 
a good chunky built Oregon horse, as close as possible on 
 ^he upper side, so as to break the force of the current. 
 After several attempts we succeeded, but, "I won't go 
 there any more." 
 
 Once across, wet, cold and hungry, we lit a fire, got 
 breakfast, fed and rubbed down our horses, that the ice 
 cold water had put to shivering so that they could not eat, 
 and after a few hours rest we started, consoling ourselves 
 with that old worn out *'saw," "A bad beginning makes a 
 good ending." 
 
 As the day advanced, a cold drizzling rain set in, and 
 three disgruntled prospectors traveled the wilds of Idaho 
 that day. 
 
 The morning of the second day out found us scouring 
 the range of mountains designated on Scotty's map. We 
 had no great difficulty in locating the bald mountain. The 
 cedar buttes, the gulch where beavers had built a dam, or 
 any of the other land m.arks Scottv had so deftly marked 
 on his map, which evidenced the fact that he must have 
 been well acquainted with his subject, but look as carefully 
 as we might no quartz resembling in the slightest the speci- 
 men given me by Scotty. Finding everything else so true 
 to his description, we were loathe to lay the blame on him, 
 and again and again we clambered over mountain, gulch 
 and canyon. I can see them yet. 
 
 We became disgusted at last. We did secure some 
 specimens of low grade ore and located a couple of claims 
 though. 
 
 As sleet and wet snow began again, to make further 
 search was useless, the ground beginning to get covered. 
 
 If it is true, as it has been said, that when the left ear 
 burns one is talking bad of you, Scotty's left ear about this 
 time must have been in such a condition as would have 
 made an ear muff a superfluity. 
 
 As we were saddling up, ready for a start homewards, 
 a bunch of prospectors were seen coming, evidently out- 
 fitted to make a prolonged stay. Among them were the 
 elite of the little Burg. As they approached us we smoth- 
 ered our wrath, as it dawned upon us that there were other 
 blooming chumps in Idaho. On reaching us they were 
 wild to know how long we were ahead of them, the show 
 for locations, etc. As their eyes bulged out at our guarded 
 hints as to the inexhaustible riches that had lain hidden in 
 . : 56 
 
the bowels of that villianous old bald mountain for ages 
 on top of ages, in fact since Adam was a kid, as Hy put it, 
 it was laughable to see the doctors, a lawyer, a Congrega- 
 tional missionary and the others unsaddling and unpacking 
 with tremulous haste. 
 
 As we made no offer to show any of the croppings 
 from our locations, they finally broached the subject more 
 pointedly. To this we merely pointed to the pack animal 
 already cinched up preparatory to our start, told them that 
 we did not want to make any idle display of our wealth. 
 To do so now would be premature, we preferred to wait for 
 returns from Salt Lake City as to the richness of the ore. 
 Here, one after the other, we exhibited a piece of Scotty's 
 sample, having divided it up on our arrival. Just as good 
 ore as ours v/as (and we pointed to the sack on the pack 
 horse) was no doubt left in the mountain. All we asked 
 was that our stakes and monuments would be respected. 
 
 Now gentlemen, it is up to you to get busy, and they 
 did. Before they started I said to one of them, say Doc, 
 how did you get next? 
 
 We were informed that Scotty had hired a young 
 fellow to take a trip for him and had got himself a couple 
 of lead pencils over at my store and had opened up a litho- 
 graphying factory in one corner of the saloon. Each map 
 sold, it was insisted on by him, was to insure him an inter- 
 est in the claim located. 
 
 As we left, the woods was full of men looking for "the 
 root of all evj'l," and as we saw them it had a tendency to' 
 make us let up on our tirade at Scotty. 
 
 On our return, my brother, who was U. S. Attorney, 
 v/ith as long a face as he could make of his generally 
 smiling one, handed me a very legal looking document, 
 stamps cancelled, date mark partly obliterated. Opening it 
 with more or less care, while he watched me soberly, I read 
 a scrawl from Scotty, as follows: 
 
 Freddie ma boy, the post office department dis 
 na want its sarvants to gang awa from their job 
 an leave it to tha custody iv straingers. I telt ye 
 na lie, tha ledge I got yon speciment fra was three 
 feet thick an as deep as a box car is wide. I tuk 
 it fra a U. P. Car 1967 over til tha deepo, a sheep- 
 ment from Butte, Montana, ta tha smelters at 
 
 57 
 
Salt Lake City. I'll gie ye yer $20.00 when I git 
 ma allowance. Yours truly, SCOTTY. 
 
 The Scotch reptile, I muttered to H. M. B., who was 
 glancing over my shoulder and grinning. 
 
 Stung. F. E. B. 
 
 GONE IN THE WIND 
 
 Solomon! Where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind, 
 Babylon ! Where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. 
 Like the swift shadows of Noon, like the dreams of the 
 
 blind. 
 Vanish the glories and pomps of the earth in the wind. 
 Man! Canst thou build upon aught in the pride of thy 
 
 mind, 
 Wisdom will teach thee that nothing can tarry behind. 
 Though there be enthroned bright actions embalmed and 
 
 enshrined. 
 Myriads and millions of brighter are snow in the wind. 
 Solomon! Where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind, 
 Babylon! Where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. 
 All that the genius of man hath achieved or designed 
 Waits but its hour to be dealt with as dust by the wind. 
 Say, what is Pleasure? A phantom, a mask undefined. 
 Science? An almond whereof we can pierce but the rind. 
 Honor and affluence? Firmans that fortune hath signed, 
 Only to glitter and pass on the wings of the wind. 
 Solomon! Where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind, 
 Babylon! Where is thy might? It is gone in the wind. 
 Who is the fortunate? He who in anguish hath pined, 
 He shall rejoice when his relics are dust in the wind. 
 Mortal! be careful with what thy best hopes are entwined. 
 Woe to the miners of truth — where the lampless have 
 
 mined. 
 Woe to the seekers on earth for — what none ever find. 
 They and their trust shall be scattered like leaves on the 
 
 wind. 
 Solomon! Where is thy throne? It is gone in the wind, 
 Babylon! Where is thy might? It is gone in the wind, 
 Happy in death are they only whose hearts have consigned. 
 All earths affections and longings and cares to the wind. 
 
 Anon. 
 
BARNEY'S COURTSHIP 
 
 Now boys quit yer tazing, 
 
 Sure it's meself I am plazing, 
 
 Whin I goes a coorting 
 
 Tha widda McGlone. 
 
 Oi'ra tha gossoon will marry her, 
 
 An' bad scran ta tha tarrier 
 
 Sez a word ferninst me 
 
 Agin widda McGlone. 
 
 Sure her firsht husband I\Iike, 
 
 He med a ten shtrike, 
 
 Buildin' sewers fer tha city, 
 
 Did :Misther ]\Iichael McGlone. 
 
 An' Oi am quite willin' 
 
 Ta share ivry shillin' 
 
 Mike lef ta his widda, 
 
 Swate widda McGlone. 
 
 Av coorse, she have a tiniper, 
 
 But oi '1 never whimper 
 
 Av oi kin shtep inta 
 
 Tha shoes av McGlone. 
 
 Fer while Oim lightenen' her sorra, 
 
 Oi think Oi kin borra 
 
 Anough ta quit work on 
 
 Fr'm ould widda McGlone. 
 
 Phwisht, a shloight intheruption, 
 
 An' widout inthroduction, 
 
 Thru a door av nex' room 
 
 Shtepped tha widda McGlone. 
 
 Sure she'd heard ivery wurrd, 
 
 Barney flew like a burrd, 
 
 An' his eoortship w'z kiboshed 
 
 Av Misthress Michael McGlone. F. E. B. 
 
 59 
 
REITERATION 
 
 A dear old lady was the owner of a parrot. Some one 
 had taught Poll to say in season and out of season when- 
 ever the lady was around, **I wish the old lady was dead." 
 This at last became unbearable and the lady in desperation 
 called on her minister and unfolded her tale of woe. The 
 preacher after listening sympathetically, advised her that 
 he had a parrot exceptionally bright and whose vocabulary 
 was free from any expressions of a vulger or ribald nature 
 and he thought that as evil communications are said to 
 corrupt good manners, and it was said to be a poor rule 
 that would not work both ways, they would keep the two 
 parrots in his house for a time while the old lady went on 
 a visit. Enquiries re the result being satisfactory the old 
 lady on her return home hastened to the minister's to get 
 her pet, and just in time to hear Poll say: *T wish the old 
 lady was dead," while the minister's parrot piously asked, 
 "Lord, hear our prater." 
 
 V/HEN "THE STARRY FLAG" WAS AN EMBLEM DEAR 
 
 In days of merry long ago, 
 
 When Americans were brothers. 
 
 When the ''Starry Flag" was an emblem dear, 
 
 And loved beyond all others. 
 
 (Ere beastly hydra-headed war 
 
 In countries 'cross the sea) 
 
 Had made this world a hell on earth 
 
 Of neighbors — enemies. 
 
 Had thrown its slimy feelers out, 
 
 It's spies and sneaking traitors, 
 
 To sow distrust and jealousy, 
 
 'Mongst families, friends and neighbors, 
 
 Hun vermin serfs are bad enough 
 
 Yet merit not the scorn 
 
 Due pro-German politicians (who menace) 
 
 The land where they were born. 
 
 Mar. 15. 1915. 
 F. E. B. 
 
 GERMAN 
 
 If we could all speak or understand German we would 
 be far less like blind men at a moving picture show. F. E. B. 
 
 60 
 
ON THE TABLETS OF MY MEMORY 
 
 With Variations 
 On the tablets of my memory, 
 There's a picture, dear, of thee, 
 'Tis with me night and m.orning, 
 Where'ere my wanderings be. 
 In my dreams I oft caress it. 
 Fondly press it to my lips. 
 E'en to kiss the shadow picture, 
 Yields unutterable bliss. 
 
 As I fondly scan each feature. 
 Catch the smile on dimpled cheek. 
 Recall the silvery laughter. 
 That rippled from your lips. 
 Life to m.e seems far more joyous, 
 Care much easier to bear. 
 Won't you send in your next letter 
 A little lock of hair. 
 
 You need not cut an armful. 
 
 Just a little lock will do, 
 
 And I'll put it for safe-keeping 
 
 In the bottom of my shoe. 
 
 For I've corns and bunions awful. 
 
 And the walking is not good, 
 
 I am walking from, not to you, 
 
 Would not go back, if I could. F. E. B. 
 
 61 
 
SWIPED 
 
 Fro7n JACK KANUCK, Nerviest Paper in Canada, 
 Toronto 
 
 THE PRUSSIAN BEAST 
 
 We used to call you Fritz at first, before we knew your 
 
 ways, 
 But now Blonde beast, or Boche, or Hun for you are terms 
 
 of praise. 
 Our English is too clean a tongue to find a title true 
 For so unspeakable a swine, so vile a thing as you. 
 
 Search as we may from A to Z, where can we find a name 
 
 To show the loathing and contempt, the shrinking, sicken- 
 ing shame. 
 
 The scorn, the horror, the disgust, the sense of mean dis- 
 grace, 
 
 That fills us when we think of you and all your German 
 race? 
 
 How shall we name your Vons and Herrs, your coarse- 
 
 betitled Huns, 
 Your false unknightly Kaiser and his brood of thieving 
 
 sons. 
 Your heavy-jowled ambassadors, so skilled in fraud and 
 
 lies, 
 And all your gross ill-mannered hordes of Kultur-spread- 
 
 ing spies? 
 
 You cruel, treacherous, lecherous curs, who vent your 
 
 coward spite 
 On helpless boys and grey-haired men, too old or weak to 
 
 fight. 
 On maidens forced to serve your lusts, then cast aside to 
 
 die. 
 On little children whom your heroes maim and crucify. 
 
 62 
 
Who, when the meek, heroic Nurse was martyred by your 
 
 Ibands. 
 Spread the glad news from mouth to mouth and clapped 
 
 your bloody hands. 
 And still amongst your field grey lads the gallant story tell 
 Of how before the Prussian might an English lady fell. 
 
 You types of Prussian chivalry, whose paid assassins slew 
 The stout sea Captain who had dared to face your pirate 
 
 crew — 
 Your pirates who had laughed to v/atch. the babes and 
 
 mothers drown, 
 But whined for pity when their victim turned to run 
 
 them down. 
 
 And these, your vile degraded Squaws, who, gathered as 
 nurses, scoff 
 
 And spit and sneer at wounded men, and tear their dress- 
 ings off. 
 
 These sexless, base, unlovely brutes — to call them women 
 would 
 
 Be foulest libel on the fame of gentle wom.anhood. 
 
 How shall we name these ghouls who dare to don the 
 
 secret Sign 
 Of Mercy, Love, and Sacrifice, of tenderness Divine. 
 Who give the thirsty — gall to drink, the hungry — stones 
 
 for bread, 
 And bending o'er the sick man's couch, hiss curses on 
 
 his head. 
 
 Your corimes deserve one name alone, so hideous, so 
 
 obscene, 
 That decent lips in speaking it feel shameful and unclean : 
 The name of "Prussian," loathed and scorned on every 
 
 land and sea. 
 And with that name, while time shall last, your race will 
 
 branded be. 
 
 63 
 
THE PROMISE THAT YOU MADE ME 
 
 When last we strolled along the shore, 
 
 You remember Elinore? 
 
 And the promise that you made me 
 
 In the gloaming. 
 To me it's been a beacon bright 
 Ever since that starlit night, 
 Has that promise that you made me 
 
 In the gloaming. 
 
 When I left you darling then 
 At our country's call for men, 
 To rally with my comrades 
 'Round ''Old Glory." 
 Though our parting it was sad. 
 Still your promise made me glad, 
 That promise that you made me 
 In the gloaming. 
 
 Since that parting I've been true 
 To my country, dear and you. 
 And the promises I made you 
 
 In the gloaming. 
 And my earnest heartfelt prayer 
 Is, that again I may be where 
 You made that whispered promise 
 
 In the gloaming. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 
 WHEN THE JIG IS UP 
 
 When the jig is up and we pass on, 
 
 To that undiscovered bourne, 
 
 From whence we're credibly informed. 
 
 No travelers ere return. — 
 
 May we so live, so "play the game" 
 
 That when we cross the Styx, 
 
 There will be no mob to greet us 
 
 With cobble stones and bricks. 
 
 And on the slab above us 
 
 May they carve this epitaph, 
 
 He played the game by "the Golden Rule," 
 
 Met his finish with a laugh. 
 
 F. E. B. 
 64 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 910 703 6 • 
 
 NOT 
 
 German Propaganda 
 
 In the 
 
 of this book 
 
 pages 
 
 If the covers don't convince you, 
 Just inside take a look. 
 
 Of German propaganda 
 For years we've had our fill, 
 
 Have heard it in the valley, 
 Have heard it on the hill, 
 
 Have had it hot for breakfast, 
 Though not on the bill of fare ; 
 
 Have heard it on the street. 
 Have heard it everywhere. 
 
 It's time we got our hammer out 
 And, were not afraid to use it. 
 
 On Boche or Hun or anyone 
 Who got a welcome to our land 
 
 Simply to abuse it. 
 
 F. E. B.