pn* »5 1 1(5 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 012 243 725 5 d LOYALTY iimiiiniiii iiiiiiniiig gi _ *g* __ j^ iniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiil AND OTHER POEMS Dedicated Go the ([tampions of (florid Democracy By MELV1N E. CRANDALL Page Two Copyright 1918 By Melvin E. Crandall Northfield, Minn. Page Three LOYALTY f f iiimiiiif lumif lit urii ii 1 1 s AND OTHER POEMS ByMELVIN E.CRANDALL Page Four — m MAR -2 1918 «Nj Page Five FOREWORD It is not presumed this little book will live thruout the ages, That everybody's going to read its half an hundred pages. But if by chance it reaches you from parent, friend or lover, Please do not turn the author down till you read between the covers. Page Six Page Seven LOYALTY Columbia, I came for I longed to be free, I dreamed of a land with a plenty for me. Thou gave me protection and freedom, beside Rich acres of land wherein to abide. The power that rules in the land of my birth, Ere long will be gone from the face of the earth. I mourn for my kin in that war-ridden land, Yet ready to serve at Columbia's command. Columbia, I came nor will I return, 1*11 watch and I'll wait while the home fires burn. There's a boy in the trenches who'll die if need be, God grant he'll be spared to Thee and to me. Page Eight "WHERE ARE YOU AT?" We want all the loyal men that we can find, If you wish to show your colors, get in line. But if you do not know, and you guess you will not go 'Cause you can't do so and so, stay behind. We have the men who do things at the front, And we have a place for those who groan and grunt. We'll consider him a foe just the same's we would a "pro," If, to the call he answers, "No, I won't." The job we have on hand is going through, And now the proposition's up to you, Are you going to get in line, or drag along be- hind And nag, and growl and whine at what we do? LOVE When the boys have finished training, and they're ordered to depart, There will be not one complaining, yet deep down within the heart There will come a lonesome feeling, over which they've no control, Nature's own way of revealing what the eye can ne'er behold. Page Nine "IF CALLAHAN WAS YOUNG" I'm glad me bie is ould enough to fight for Uncle Sam, And I wish that I was thirty-five years younger than I am. I would shoulder me ould musket, sure's me name is Callahan, And I'd go to church in Berlin, Sunday mornin'. I would take along as company me ould friend Michael Doyle, And we'd live and die together, two abreast or single foile. We would over-top the trenches, and we'd land on German soil, And we'd go to church in Berlin Sunday mornin'. We would lave the boys behind us and we'd hurry to the fray. Nor spend the time in "Blarney" wid our friends along the way. Sure we'd treat them all wid dacency and pass the time of day, And we'd go to church in Berlin Sunday mornin'. Wid me ould friend Doyle beside me, I would smash Von Hinden's line, I would then be afther sthoppin', the "Watch Upon the Rhine," Then I'd telephone to Pershin' and the boys we left behind, To come to church in Berlin Sunday mornin'. Page Ten "MY JAMIE" My Jamie has gone with the boys to the front, He has volunteered into the army. I'm afraid he'll be hurted but maybe he won't, Though the way they are fightin' alarms me. When the call came for soldiers he said he would go, While me heart was near breakin' I'd never say no, He gave to his country the service he owes, When he volunteered into the army. I'm proud of me Jamie, he's doin' his bit, There's no one can call him a slacker, To remind him of home I will send him a "Kit," Nor will I leave out his "terbaccer." There's nothing too good for the boys over there, The little I do will be nothing, compared With the hardships and pain they have offered to bear, When they volunteered into the army. X Page Eleven THE ALTERNATIVE If you don't like our land of freedom, If you don't like the "Gopher" state; If you don't like the land of plenty, We invite you to migrate. Go back to the country you came from Ere Gabriel blows his horn Your goods and your gold You must leave behind, I'm told. But go back where you were born. If you don't like to see the soldiers marching, If you don't like to see them drill ; If you can't get in step to martial music Go back to Kaiser Bill. If you don't like to see our banners waving, If you don't like the red, white and blue Be you Yankee, Slav or Dane, You had better catch a train Before Uncle Sammy lands on you. Page Twelve "THE KAISER REPENTANT" Mein Gott im Himmel, hear mein brayer, for somedings I must say, Der Imps of Satan called me names, und kicked me oud today. They say I vas a Demon, de vorst they efer met, They say, "Already you is vorse, than we, und no horns yet." They say if I should grow der horns und regu- lation dail, Dot Lucifer vill chump his chob, und hit der "sawdust drail." Und dot I is der reason, or der var vould nefer been, Ach, Gott, they say so many dings apout me dot is mean. They dell so much dot I pelieve der most of it is drue, Und dot's der reason vhy I come mid brayers, mein Gott, to you. I ask if you vill be mein friend, if I vill sue for beace — Und sbrinkle ashes on mein kopf, und eat chust Sweitzer kase. I is so mad mit kindness, I'll do any ding dot's right, I gife mein sacred bromise, und keep it ofer night, Und ven der vorld pelongs to me, I'll pe your closest friend, But if der horns und dail should grow, der var vill haf no end. Page Thirteen "FIXING THE BLAME" I take your valued paper, 'cause I want the latest news, I like your editorials and "other people's views." But the interesting readin\ and the news that 'peals to me, Is of General Pershin's army on the other side the sea. Someone wrote a letter 'bout the boys all bein' drunk, But what's the use in printin' this pessimistic bunk, They got their taste of liquor before they crossed the sea, And General Pershin' aint to blame, nor sir, it's you and me. With apology to the Bible, let's amend John, 3, 16, "For you and I so loved the booze," you see now what I mean, We voted it upon our sons, their patronage to hold, And thus prolong the business, and bring us more of gold. My only boy went over there to drive an am- bulance, And it makes me mad to read a word against the boys in France. I'll help to bear the burden of the war that's on our backs, But, as I was sayin', I wish you'd print the facts. Page Fourteen WHEN THE KAISER'S ON THE WIRE Vot is der madder, Gott, mit you, you answer not mein brayer? You know I dold you long ago, to help me mit mein war. I call you up so many dimes, but can no answer get, Berhaps you don't know who is me, I'm Kaiser William, yet. I vish to dell you how I is, and hope you are de same, But first, I vish you'd dell me Gott, vat's Vil- son's leedle game? Mein babers und mein friends they say dot he is nix for goot, But you know how it is somedimes, der friends don'd speak der trut. I dells mein beobles, Gott, dot you are smiling in der face, You are so glad pecause I sink der ships and leave no drace. Und ven I putcher leedle kids und vomens, den I say Dot you's der poss im Himmel, but der vorld pelongs to me. Page Fifteen "THE RUNAWAY" A team of nags stood on the street, Said one in a "nagging" way, "You antiquated bone-heap Let's make our get-away." They both agreed and off they went, (The one was old and grey) And hit the trail at record pace, (The other an antique bay). The street was strewn with merchandise That tumbled from the sleigh, There was crackers, cheese and kerosene, Soap, clothes pins, bread and hay. The thing that banged against their heels They tried to disengage, By "jack-knifing" a farmer's rig, Then crossed the lower bridge. And when they reached Division street And started down the stretch, They just began to limber up When someone made a catch. So do not judge your running mate, By the way he limps and groans, But by the pep and ginger In his antiquated bones. Page Sixteen "WORTH WHILE" If I could write a verse or two, As I have often wished to do. Td hope they'd make somebody smile, Perchance they read them after 'while. If I could reach the hearts of men, And let a little sunshine in, I'd consider it a joyous task No greater blessing would I ask. The pen if used aright will heal A broken heart, and none will feel It's subtle point, if it's engloved With words of sympathy and love. When wielded in the cause of right, Held in a sturdy grasp and tight, 'Tis a weapon then that all should heed, Mightier than the sword, indeed. But if these lines by chance should go, To one who's bending under woe, I will ever feel it worth the while If they have caused this one to smile. Page Seventeen OPPORTUNITY If once you pass this way and do not find me in, Must hope within me die, will you come not back again? Do you knock at every door with measured beat and clear, That the halt, the lame and blind and all within may hear? If you knock upon my door and others hold the key, And you come not back again, wherein will it profit me? If you find one that is closed and held by Doubt and Fear, Do you take Faith and Courage with you and force an entrance here? Many hear you knocking, but do not welcome you, They're held as slaves by Ignorance and know not what to do. These are they who are burdened with Poverty and Grief, And if you come not back again, Where will they find Relief? Page Eighteen "PEACE AT ANY PRICE" Then came a man with gift of speech, Much traveled, and with power to preach. Who would persuade the common folk That Wilson's peace plan was a joke. That "Peace at any price" should be This country's aim and policy. "We then should turn swords into plows, And put our soldiers milking cows, To feeding hogs and chopping wood, And any other jobs they could, 'A world democracy would be nice, But give us peace at any price.' " "Again," I say, "we should disarm, There's no occasion for alarm, Beside we read, 'Thou shalt not kill,' And Sherman said that war was Hell. 'A peace at any price should be For all time and eternity.' " Page Nineteen "REVIVAL DAYS" Did you ever go to meeting in those old revival days, And the kindly usher showed you to a pew, So close up to the pulpit that the sympathetic gaze, Of the congregation turned on you. Then I know you had a creeping feeling, up and down your back, And a prickly-heat sensation through your hair. And you wished that you might vanish, through some convenient crack Lest you'd be called upon to offer prayer. You were fidgety and nervous, I know just how you felt, Till the invitation came to "hit the trail," And then the spell was broken, you were the first that knelt, And asked for mercy at the altar rail. Page Twenty 'I SUFFER THIS FOR THEE" I dreamed I stood at the gates Of a city bright and fair, And gazed on the moving throng That passed before me there. I tho't I asked of one The cause of this array, He answered, "Jesus the Nazarene, Will be crucified to-day." I dreamed I saw in the midst Of that angry, threatening crowd, One who was laboring sore, Under a heavy load. And as He nearer drew He turned His eyes to'rd me, And I dreamed I heard Him say, "This I do for thee." I joined with the moving throng, And hurried on the way, On thro* the outer gates, Up rugged Calvary. And there, in my dream, I saw the Nazarene, Nailed to the cross He had borne That I might be redeemed. Page Tto>enty-One "WHEATLESS DAYS" We thank you, Mr. Hoover, for your meat- and wheatless days, The nation will be benefited in so many ways. Not only by a surplus of foods to send to France, But 'twill give our vital in'ards a whole lot better chance. The entire human system will be freed from many ills, And in a like proportion we'll be free from doctor bills! Indigestion, mumps and measles, ring-worm, warts and water-brash, These are just a few disorders cured by eat- ing barley mash. Sleeping sickness, gout and hook-worm, all dis- ease akin to man, Pain in back, distorted liver, disappear when eating bran. So we thank you, Mr. Hoover, tho* at first we made a fuss, What we gain by eating War Bread means far more than wealth to us. Page Twenty-Two "THE INITIATIVE" Why do you wait for the other man To "break the ice" for you ? Why aren't you willing to lead the van And show others what to do? Why don't you crowd right up to the front? E'en tho' you have to bear the brunt, And one of these days you'll do a stunt And get into the lime-light too. Why do you wait till the very last In making your start for the goal? Why do you let opportunity pass, Why isn't your name on the roll? Why not go after the choicest plums And not sit back and wait for the crumbs? Accepting most any old thing that comes Till you find yourself out in the cold? Why do you grumble and stew and fret Tho' things aren't coming your way? Why not say to yourself, "I'll get there yet," Then whistle and sing and be gay? If you study the lives of our great men You will find even they slip and fall now and then, But they have the back-bone, they get up again, BACK-BONE is an asset that pays. The world calls for leaders, for leaders of men, But they're scarce, and the reason we find, There's too many like you, who always depend On other's and plod behind. But take this advice, "If you'd see the show, It's better to sit in 'Jbald-head row,' Than to stand outside for an hour or so, 'Cause you didn't get there in time." Page T rv enty ~ T hr ee OUR BROTHER-IN-LAW Our Brother-in-law is coming To see us, down the "Pike," Oh gee! but ain't it sudden? I wonder what he's like? I'll break the news to mother, And you, my sister dear, Go straighten up the parlor; The train will soon be here. I just got word from Mary, And this is what she said, "Look out down there, he's coming," And I nearly lost my head. I sometimes get excited, While talking o'er the phone: But this was sure the limit; I could hardly stand alone. Mary said we should meet him, So I guess us girls will go. He may be hard to manage: "Wild and woolly," don't you know. He may be just like other folks, He may be "Nix Come Rous" He may be "Och, Du Leiber," "Ve Verden Finden Ouse." Page T tv enty - F o ur "THE BOY SCOUTS" Do you know, boys, Columbia is looking for you — As the men of to-morrow — to pilot her through The turbulent seas that will dash her about, When her old pilots fail, and her shore- lights go out? Do you know you are destined, high places to fill? Though the critic may scoff and deride as he will? And the ladder which leads to the coveted height, Will be easier to climb, if you stick to the right? There's a place at the top for every "Boy Scout," And Columbia is steadily seeking them out, So you may gain honor, if you've courage and grit, But remember that TRUTH, is the chief requisite. Page Twenty-Five "AN ADMONITION" We have liked you, Mr. Roosevelt, 'Cause you've proved yourself a man. And though we don't agree with everything, We must hold up Wilson's hands. And though ink works well on paper, And talk is very cheap, There's one thing mighty certain — We must sow if we would reap. Of the seed that has been scattered, Some has fallen on a stone, But there's much that now is growing, And should be left alone. Don't go digging at the bottom, Pawing 'round them with your boots, 'Cause you can't expect a harvest, If you trample down the shoots. So really, Mr. Roosevelt, there is so much to do, We cannot stop to argue — but I'd suggest to you, "As a substitute for shrapnel, 'mud' balls are'nt any good, No more than are the cannon, you said were made of wood." Page Twenty-Six "THE RED CROSS" Dear Mother, none of us can tell what the future holds for us, But come what may we're going to stay till the foe is in the dust. My comrades now are waiting the order to ad- vance, Our cause is just and if we must, we'll fight and die with France. But Mother, there are others here to whom all honor's due, Whose loving care and loyalty, reminds me most of you. They do not charge the trenches yet we feel their presence near, To the cry of sick and wounded, there comes the answer, here. We're singing of the army, of the red, the white, and blue, But let us sing with fervor a song that as yet, is new. Let us sing of the Red Cross Martyrs, tho' the half can never be told, The song that will live thro' the ages, the song that will never grow old. Page T w en t y -S e ven "HEATLESS DAY" Oh, heatless day, tho' not my choice, 'Tis better than an empty hod. No glowing hearth yet I rejoice To know the order's spread abroad. It's up to me to find a way, To keep from freezing heatless day, Heatless day, heatless day, When Garfield wished my coal away. "THE AFTERMATH" When the cruel war is over and the Hun is put to rout. We will settle down in Paris and we'll hang our shingle out, We will practice our professions and we'll wear the latest togs And we'll learn the Frenchmen's habits, Till it comes to eating frogs. Page T TV enty - Eight "TO THE BLACK BALLOT" Insignificant morsel of blackened clay: If you would serve the purpose for which you are suited — even as a child's plaything — rolled about, -trampled in the dust and lost, we might look upon you as a useful thing. Or, if time would turn backward to the Dark and Middle ages, when fear, hatred and dis- trust rankled in the hearts of the ignorant and superstitious of that time — then you might be considered an indispensable tool. But in this enlightened age, when Wisdom teaches us the equality of men, and that Love is the true rem- edy for evil, you have no place. Come out from your secret hiding, lest one be tempted — under the cloak of "Social Duty" — to spitefully use you against another. Come out from your white fellows, those emblems of purity, and no longer defile Fra- ternalism. Page Twenty-Nine "WHO'S WHO" These are the days when all honor and praise Is due to our mothers and sons, The mothers are sitting and patiently knitting Sweaters and socks, and things most befitting The boys "on the trail of the Hun." But how about Dad, does it make him feel bad? Does he feel he's been slighted? Oh, no. Of course he don't knit but he's glad to admit That buying a bond is a small part of it, That the mothers and sons should have ever bit Of the praise, if we conquer the foe. Page Thirty "TWO GRAVES" Under the sod in a distant land They have laid him down to rest. Far, far away from his own fireside, And the friends who loved him best. Under the sod on the fields of France, They have laid some mother's son, And though he may sleep till the dead are raised He, a crown of Victory's won. Under the sod in his Home-land, They have laid him down to rest, Kind words were said and tears were shed By those who loved him best. Under the sod in the Church-Yard Though far from the battle sound, He too, gave his life to his country, He too, has won a Crown.