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Occasional Verses 
 
 TOASTS and SENTIMENTS 
 
 SELECTED FROM THE LARGE 
 NUMBER OF SUCH PRODUC- 
 TIONS COMPOSED FOR HER 
 FRIENDS BY 
 
 IDA E. S. NOYES 
 
 AND NOW PUBLISHED BY HER 
 
 HUSBAND, La Verne Noyes, 
 
 AND PRESENTED TO THOSE 
 INTIMATE FRIENDS WHO DE- 
 SIRE TO PRESERVE THESE 
 EXPRESSIONS OF HER BUOYANT 
 SPIRIT, RARE GOOD FELLOW- 
 SHIP AND KINDLY INTEREST 
 

 COPYRIGHT. 1913, BY 
 LAVERNE NOYES 
 
Extract From Address 
 
 BY MRS. MATTHEW T. SCOTT 
 
 Former President General of the D. A. R., at the unveiling of 
 
 a portrait of Mrs. LaVerne Noyes by the De Witt 
 
 Clinton Chapter, Clinton, 111., 
 
 November 8, 1913. 
 
 A FLOOD of memory sweeps over my mind, and surges through 
 my heart, as 1 recall that precious woman whose memory we 
 are assembled to honor in the unveiling of this beautiful por- 
 trait — our beloved vice president general, Mrs. Noyes, so tragically 
 stricken in the full vigor of her singularly useful life. A great writer 
 has said: "The pathos of death is this, that when the days of one's 
 life are ended — those days that were so crowded with business, and 
 felt so heavy in their passing— ^what remains of one in memory should 
 usually be so slight a thing." 
 
 A more beautiful legend the great apostle has left us: "They 
 rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." 
 
 The passing from earth of this beloved woman, especially near 
 and dear to us in Illinois, gives touching emphasis to a creed and faith 
 the antithesis of pagan philosophy. This lovely woman was rich in 
 gifts, the best that intellect, character and devotion to high ideals 
 represent in the great organization of which she was so vital a part. 
 May her example be for us an inspiration to still more devoted service, 
 still more single-hearted consecration to those great aims to which. 
 as Daughters of the American Revolution, we are pledged. 
 
 "Death loves a shining mark" is not a truism merely in the pass- 
 ing away of this loved one, whose sympathetic interest, tender and 
 courageous friendship, have been for me a strong stay and rock to 
 anchor to in days of storm and stress. Her loyal support and warm 
 affections were so often an inspiration to me, in times that I now recall 
 with pathetic and overwhelming feeling — a cherished friendship that 
 time can neither dim nor blot out. Her"s a fidelity that never fal- 
 tered, a loyalty that never relaxed, a patience that never wearied, a 
 wisdom that rarely erred, and an unselfish devotion that knew no 
 limit. Never can we forget or cease to cherish her precious memory, 
 rich in all that is most gracious in womanliness, strong and clear in 
 intellect, pure in heart, sweet and noble in spirit, splendid in example, 
 and with a magnetism that drew all hearts to her. 
 
 "Though a master workman who needed not to be ashamed," all 
 that this woman achieved is not restricted to visible, tangible results 
 of the passing hour. What she did and what she was, contained the 
 germs of greater things, whose influence is to be felt in ever-broadening 
 lines of service — the real and enduring, though invisible force, that 
 makes for the happiness and betterment and uplift of humanity. 
 
 In the glowing future of our great and beloved Society, in coming 
 eventful years, may the standards of this noble woman be a living, 
 burning message to us — the beneficiaries of her pure, beautiful life. 
 Then indeed shall it be known, that "though dead, she still speaketh." 
 
An Appreciation 
 
 MRS. NOYES made no claim to great literary 
 ability and very rarely attempted the lofty 
 heights of true poetry; but she possessed a rare aptitude 
 for rhyme and the happy faculty of expressing herself 
 tersely and wittily in verse. 
 
 This unusual accomplishment she often employed on 
 social occasions and at functions, both public and private, 
 where she always was a central figure in the intellectual 
 part of the festivities. Her shafts of wit and satire and 
 appreciation always went straight to the mark and never 
 failed to win sincere admiration and enthusiasm. Always 
 in the best of humor and kindliness her points scored 
 forcefully, though sometimes at the sacrifice of metrical 
 and rhythmical accuracy, for which she cared little. 
 
 Her verses were intended to be merely ephemeral, 
 with a direct application to a particular person or place 
 or occasion. The present collection of them, published 
 solely for private circulation among her personal friends, 
 will, it is hoped, serve to recall many a happy hour spent 
 with this beloved singer, whose voice, untimely silent, 
 still echoes in memory. FRANK PIXLEY. 
 
The "Ida Noyes" Hall. 
 
 THE gift of $300,000 to the University of Chicago 
 by Mr. La Verne W. Noyes in memory of his wife 
 is an act unusual in its direct appropriateness. 
 The generous fund is to go to build the ' Ida Noyes Hall,' 
 a gymnasium and social center for the woman students. 
 The impress that Mrs. Noyes' life left upon the various 
 branches of woman's activities in Chicago is still fresh. 
 The memorial at the great university will preserve its 
 memory in the years to come. It was altogether fitting 
 that the board of trustees declared in formal resolution 
 its 'especial gratification that there is to be commemorated 
 in the quadrangles of the university the name of a gracious 
 and gifted woman whose rare qualities are well worthy 
 of admiration and emulation by successive generations 
 of our young women.' " 
 
 Editorial. The Chicago Evening Post, June 11, 1913 
 
A Tribute to Mrs. Noyes 
 
 ^Vritten by a College Friend 
 
 IN many ways Mrs. Noyes" character was unique. She had a 
 personality so much out of the ordinary that from childhood until 
 
 the time of her death she always held a place distinctly her own. 
 All that came into her life ministered to her education and development. 
 To point out a few of the elements that contributed to her life's progress 
 may give a key to her interesting character. 
 
 She was superbly democratic. Attainments, position, wealth, 
 only deepened this element in her disposition. Her childhood in an 
 Iowa village, where her father was a doctor and friend to all, was the 
 first lesson in tolerance and understanding of people of all ages and 
 conditions. She always had sympathy and kindness for any who, 
 she judged, were unfairly treated, and there are scores of persons 
 who are today mourning the loss of one who championed their cause 
 in time of misunderstanding and trial. Mer life in this particular 
 was one of constant enlargement. She had a scientific mind. Her 
 wise doctor father encouraged her in all studies that might develop 
 her mind in the strongest and most well-rounded manner. She had 
 her college course at the Iowa State College, along with her brother 
 (where her future husband was also a student), and learned to think 
 and act with a clearness and accuracy that has always been one of 
 her strongest traits. 
 
 To these two attributes — clearness and accuracy in thinking — 
 is due much of the power she possessed for leadership. During her 
 college days she was admired for her talent as a presiding officer, as 
 a fine speaker, and as one greatly talented in reading and acting. 
 
 In the early days of her husband's business life in Chicago, 
 it was from her orderly little desk in their home that the beautifully 
 written letters were sent that were so helpful to his success, and at 
 this desk the books were kept so accurately and scientifically. Her 
 wondrously beautiful handwriting has always been a joy to her hosts 
 of friends. She would never give her correspondence into another's 
 hand, and through months of acute suffering and great weakness 
 her hand never lost its cunning and hundreds of letters and notes, 
 by their daintiness and cheerfulness, disarmed the anxiety of those 
 who loved her. 
 
 AH her experiences contributed to develop the fine artistic 
 taste which came to her from a refined and sensitive mother. She 
 grew to love all phases of nature and as opportunities widened she 
 developed an appreciation of every form of art that was broad and 
 
accurate. Literature was a field she loved. Books were her delight. 
 She knew them well and loved the best in many kinds. Her love of 
 pictures and painting led her to definite study of that form of art 
 and for several years she was a student in the Art Institute of Chicago 
 and of the Julian School in Paris. She did splendid work. Her 
 study of drawing and painting was a delight and later was most 
 helpful in the training given her eye when she came to judge of beauty 
 in using the camera during her travels. She leaves in her Lake Shore 
 home thirty or forty thousand photographs all mounted in volumes 
 and labeled by her own hand. Her taste and choice in color were a 
 part of this artistic development. She seemed wholly original in her 
 tastes, in furnishing, in decoration and in dress. Not cost, but beauty 
 determined her choice. She was really oriental in this respect, and few 
 western natures have more fully understood the oriental love for beauty. 
 Her taste and love of color were abiding and unerring. 
 
 Her association in later years with the D. A. R. gave a wider 
 reach to all these talents that were such a source of power. Her 
 final triumph came this fall when from her bed of pain she sent an 
 eloquent message to the State meeting. It touched every heart and 
 doubly endeared her to the order which had become so dear to her. 
 It satisfied her heart's desire for affection. 
 
 SALLIE STALKER SMITH 
 
The Farmers' Hall of Fame 
 
 At unveiling of portrait of Cyrus Hall McCormick. whose 
 
 name was the first to be enrolled. Urbana. 
 
 111., December 15. 1909. 
 
 IN Pantheons and abbeys old. 
 Which royal ashes do enfold. 
 Are found as well the warrior's dust; 
 Perchance the bones of statesman just ; 
 In corner dark, mayhap, a bard 
 Sleeps his last sleep without regard. 
 But never, in the ages gone. 
 Did toilers" names to fame belong. 
 
 Who murdered millions of his kind. 
 
 Yet gained the day, would always find 
 
 Millions to praise him for his deeds; 
 
 Men for such fame would twist their creeds. 
 
 Strange, is it not, that never sage, 
 
 In all the eons of past age. 
 
 Who did fame's pages closely scan. 
 
 Could find the name of husbandman? 
 
 Mankind, in all the ages past. 
 
 Has reared great domes and temples vast 
 
 Alone to those who did employ 
 
 Their talents others to destroy ; 
 
 While those who killed against great odds 
 
 Were thought to be akin to gods. 
 
 Some savages their brave extol 
 
 By carved heads on totem pole. 
 
 'Twas left to men of our great state 
 To canonize the truly great; 
 To lift to fame and write the name 
 Of him whose life-long work and aim 
 Was to increase the gifts of earth; 
 To till the soil and give new birth 
 To wheat and corn and rye and grass 
 And help mankind to thus amass 
 
Such store of goods as far surpasses 
 
 All other efforts for the masses. 
 
 "Who makes two blades of grass to grow 
 
 Instead of one" long, long ago, 
 
 Were told, was blest and was the best 
 
 Of benefactors to his race. 
 
 Now Illinois has given place 
 
 To this great hall, a Hall of Fame 
 
 For farmers, where each honored name 
 
 Shall be extolled and then enrolled 
 
 In characters so bright and bold 
 
 That men shall prize them more than gold. 
 
 Peace sounds the knell of armed power 
 
 And now is the triumphal hour 
 
 Of Nature's conservation, when 
 
 Are raised to fame her husbandmen. 
 
 Country Life 
 
 At luncheon given by Mr. and Mrs. Harry Irving Miller in 
 their new farm home called "Richmond Hill," 
 August 30. 1908. 
 
 C~'S have a toast with right good will, 
 A brand new toast, 'tis "Richmond Hill!" 
 The seat of lakes and mighty trees; 
 Of fertile soil and balmy breeze, 
 Where golden pheasants preen and hide 
 And Mallard ducks in peace abide. 
 Sleek Holsteins fine and other kine; 
 True terrapin without the brine; 
 Pure Andalusian hens as well, 
 And ducks and geese the list to swell. 
 Some porcine pearls of adipose; 
 Some turkeys tall and grandiose; 
 Arabian steeds of famous breeds; 
 And motors for the varied needs 
 Of friends, good friends who love you well, 
 And more, much more than I can tell. 
 Had I a book, each page 'twould fill 
 To tell the joys of Richmond Hill. 
 
An Appreciation 
 
 To Mr. Smiley, on behalf of the women at the Lake Mohonk 
 
 Conference on International Arbitration. 
 
 May 21, 1909. 
 
 w 
 
 HEN guests, like Mr. Smiley "s here. 
 
 Have touched beatitude, 
 Tis hard to find the fitting words 
 
 To speak their gratitude. 
 
 And though, in conference, the Dames 
 
 Have scarcely said a word. 
 When heart-felt thanks spring from all ranks 
 
 They surely should be heard 
 
 To prove that they appreciate 
 
 This host of great estate 
 Whose zeal for peace knows no surcease, 
 
 And whom we celebrate. 
 
 To right the wrongs of all the earth 
 
 The conference essays. 
 And that success may crown its work 
 
 Each one devoutly prays. 
 
 Since, in the warring world outside. 
 
 Its influence is felt 
 To such a very vast extent 
 
 That armaments may melt 
 
 Beneath its fire of arguments 
 
 From orators and sages 
 Who bring here brightest modern thought 
 
 With wisdom of the ages. 
 
 Our host has hand like magic wand 
 
 To beautify the earth. 
 Since, where but barren rocks were found. 
 
 His touch has given new birth 
 
 To trees and flowers and clinging vines 
 
 And pastures for the herd ; 
 Where e'en the chipmunk finds a home 
 
 As does the singing bird. 
 
His people and the dumb beasts here, 
 
 Beneath his gentle sway, 
 Act as if they were each new-born. 
 
 Each perfect in his way. 
 
 Dost ask where is the happiest land? 
 
 And where the loveliest spot? 
 "Tis Mr. Smiley 's "smiling land," 
 
 With its far-famed "Sky-Top." 
 
 Such wealth of lofty thought and pure 
 
 He gathers in this spot 
 That, once a guest of this great host. 
 
 Ne'er more the common lot 
 
 Is his or hers who's heard the words 
 Of peace and good here spoken; 
 
 He lives this dream of perfect bliss 
 Which never can be broken. 
 
 Oh, blessed host and happy guests 
 At Lake Mohonk, York State, 
 
 You all are so much of one mind 
 There's naught to arbitrate. 
 
 As a Little Child 
 
 A bit of advice to U. S. Daughters of 1812. 
 
 D 
 
 EAR "Daughters of the 1812" 
 
 Would'st be both keen and sage ? 
 Cut from your application blanks 
 Exactitude of age. 
 
 No woman but a Cassie C. 
 
 Can grasp a finance page; 
 Then why ask gentle womankind 
 
 To figure up her age ? 
 
 No "Daughters" true will falsify; 
 
 But, let us put it mild, 
 As to her date of birth each dame 
 
 Is as a little child. 
 
The United States Army 
 
 To Colonel George W. Goethels, U. S. A.. President of the 
 
 Panama Commission and Chief Engineer of the 
 
 great canal. March 16, 1909. 
 
 WHAT cannot our great army do 
 Where'er the flag's unfurled? 
 'Twill cut a continent in two 
 And yet unite a world! 
 Its doctors and its engineers. 
 
 Relentlessly as fate. 
 Fierce wars have won against disease, 
 A world achievement great! 
 
 Our wars are waged for righteousness 
 
 And not for sordid gain! 
 We've freed a troubled sister state 
 
 From clutches of old Spain, 
 Where insurrections were the rule. 
 
 And every man had fought 
 Against old-world oppression and 
 
 For freedom — all for naught. 
 
 To enumerate the victories 
 
 Of our armies on the shore. 
 Or tell of our diplomacy 
 
 To compel the "open door," 
 Were more than one poor scribe can do 
 
 In the moment when we dine; 
 But we'll show appreciation 
 
 In at least one glass of wine! 
 
 May every one promotion win 
 
 And may the fame increase 
 Of Uncle Sam's great army that 
 
 Doth make and maintain peace! 
 And for these gathered round this board 
 
 Drink deep for their dear sakes — 
 The Colonel from far Panama ! 
 
 And General of the Lakes! 
 
Lincoln 
 
 Press League Celebration of the Centenary of Abraham 
 Lincoln's Birth, February 12th, 1909. 
 
 GREAT Lincoln! bravest, truest man, 
 With wisdom superhuman — 
 A kingly soul, as Jove himself. 
 
 Yet tenderness of womsm. 
 He voiced in deathless sentences 
 
 Great thoughts which all unite. 
 Of charity that suffers long 
 
 And firmness in the right. 
 He flinched not in his boyhood days 
 
 To put the bu'ily down 
 And proved tlie might of him with right 
 
 In old New Salem town. 
 He braved the Mississippi's flood 
 
 And brought his craft to port. 
 And, while unlettered, won renown 
 
 In many a circuit court. 
 The "Little Giant," too, he met 
 
 In stormy, joint debate; 
 And through the slave he fought to save 
 
 Made famous our good state. 
 But greatest of this patriot's deeds 
 
 Were in the civil strife, 
 When friends turned foes and untold woes 
 
 Beset each walk of life. 
 Ah, then the Patriot President, 
 
 So gentle and so brave. 
 Though forced to call good men to fall, 
 
 Did all he could to save. 
 His friends, his foes, the great, the small. 
 
 Each held his place secure 
 In Father Abraham's loving heart 
 
 Whose pity could endure. 
 
He served for all, he suffered all, 
 
 Nor malice ever knew; 
 Was humblest of all humble souls 
 
 Yet of God's chosen few. 
 Our Lincoln! the true patriot 
 
 From birth to latest breath! 
 Although a century has gone. 
 
 His spirit lives in death. 
 
 The Real Daughters of 1812 
 
 Read at U. S. D. of 1812 luncheon. December 2, 1909. 
 
 o 
 
 val'rous Daughters of brave sires! 
 Whose fame keeps bright, like vestal fires, 
 You are the honored guests today 
 And, while life lasts, will be alway. 
 
 The war of eighteen twelve, though brief 
 And filled with disappointing grief. 
 Yet proved our prowess on the seas. 
 And, when the flag blew to the breeze, 
 
 Inspired the song of Francis Key's. 
 'Tis much to write a world-loved song; 
 'Tis much to right a grievous wrong; 
 'Tis great when weak o'erwhelm the strong ; 
 
 All these to eighteen twelve belong. 
 They fought on seas and alien shore 
 From Canada to Baltimore; 
 By bays and lakes and mighty streams 
 
 From Fayal Roads to New Orleans. 
 
 But strangest thing of all we find 
 
 They still fought on, though peace was signed. 
 
 Of earliest Daughters, half a score 
 
 Has Illinois today, I ken. 
 So. till the time when she has more. 
 We'll pay our homage and adore 
 Our own beloved ten! 
 
The God-Made Man and the 
 Man-Made Man 
 
 February 24, 1910. 
 
 GOD made, in image of His own, a man 
 To carry out His Godlike plan 
 Of love and service, brotherhood and good 
 And all the virtues loved and understood. 
 Then man, with cunning brain and wise, devised 
 A man-made man of greed who'd never heed 
 The "still small voice" of conscience plead, — 
 A soulless thing, this man-made man, to bring 
 Within his grasp the wealth of all and wring 
 The last live heart-drop from the sons of toil. 
 This man-made man who doth so largely plan. 
 Is not a frightful Frankenstein to die, 
 But the great corporation to defy 
 Law makers and the laws of God-made man, 
 And act toward mortals like the great / am, — 
 A powerful, soulless thing to live alway, 
 While God-made men, like flowers, live but a day. 
 
 Full ninety million God-made men it takes 
 To make our mighty nation. 
 
 While four oi five of man-made men, 'tis thought. 
 May corral all creation. 
 Bismarck, the Teuton's one all-powerful Prince, 
 Was made, we're told, of blood and iron; 
 Our man-made men are made of oil. 
 Meats, sweets and steel and armor-plate to fire on. 
 
 The man-made man grows strong on tariff tolls. 
 While in his juggernaught he onward rolls 
 And crushes out the life from God-made souls. 
 Yet God-made man this man-made man has made. 
 He's his creator after all is said. 
 So of his work he must not be afraid. 
 But, where it's wrong, must let it feel the blade. 
 The gladiatorial Roosevelt 
 Essayed this task because he thought he felt 
 In his right arm "the strength of ten." 
 He grasped his sword, he fought the fight, and then 
 Went off to Africa to rest — no jest 
 Is this — the jungle beast is gentler far 
 Than trusts, when they the nation's strength contest. 
 
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 (The above is a photographic reproduction of 
 Mrs. Noyes' hand-writing.) 
 
Children of the Republic 
 
 At the C. R. Convention, November 18, 1909. 
 
 c 
 
 ET statesmen save the forests 
 And citizens the streams, 
 And poets pen immortal lines 
 To crystallize their dreams 
 
 The "Daughters'" conservation 
 
 Is work most consecrate — - 
 To keep alive the patriot fires 
 
 And make the country great; 
 
 Not great in swollen fortunes, 
 
 But great in righteousness. 
 And strong in Godlike character. 
 
 The only type to bless 
 
 Itself and others. 'Tis our 
 
 Truest conservation 
 To train the child to love the flag 
 
 And magnify the nation. 
 
 This, "Daughters" all are doing. 
 
 In their own simple way, 
 By forming little patriot clubs 
 
 Of C. R. U. S. A. 
 
 Children of our Republic! 
 
 The nation's hope and stay. 
 When all are taught just how they ought 
 
 To vote, or fight, or pray. 
 
 This is our work, my sisters: 
 
 To train the youthful mind 
 In patriot ways and make our days 
 
 Greater than those behind. 
 
Just a Few Knights 
 
 At dinner by Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Duerson Knight, at 
 University Club, May 6, 1909. 
 
 THOUGH knights of old were ever bold 
 And cast in that heroic mold 
 Which armor wore of tons or more 
 In weight, and swore their foes to kill 
 Or wade in gore; to hunt the Grail; 
 Dames to adore and such like lore 
 Of chivalry, the Knights today, 
 Say what you may, are in our way 
 Of thinking, much more brave than they. 
 This Knight has often been the head 
 Of Hamilton's great hosts so dread. 
 Of whom "tis said that, when they name 
 A man for fame, make good their claim 
 And land him in the White House new. 
 Wherein so few of all who sue 
 For sufferance of voters true 
 Can hope to get much else than rue. 
 Or other than those three short words. 
 So loathed by man: "He also ran." 
 But now one can rhyme on this plan 
 For hours and hours and tell a brand 
 New story of the glory of 
 Our Knights today. But, let us say 
 For Thomas D., and also she 
 Who shares his name and has much fame 
 That's quite her own, from all we've known 
 Of knights of old, in stories told. 
 And Knights today, that really they, 
 Our own dear Knights, are, as it were, 
 "Upon the heights" in hearts and souls 
 Of those who know them. Raise the bowls 
 And drain them quite to T. D. Knight! 
 And one who does all hearts delight. 
 His better half — dear Helen Knight! 
 
An Ancestral Tribute 
 
 At the Annual Luncheon of "The Chicago Colony of New 
 
 England Women" on the opening day of the 
 
 Blackstone Hotel. Monday, 
 
 April II, 1910. 
 
 D 
 
 EAR motherland, Old England, 
 
 So loyal to your king, 
 Your strength it was that gave us 
 
 The qualities we sing: 
 
 Devotion to ideals 
 
 Of liberty and right. 
 Oft called "New England Conscience" 
 
 But born of England's might. 
 
 Our toast is "old New England," 
 
 The land of brains and brawn. 
 Of blue laws and blue stockings. 
 
 Where 'twas a sin to yawn. 
 
 Or smile, or laugh, or kiss one's child. 
 
 Upon the day called Sunday, 
 Or fail to go three times to church. 
 
 Though six P. M. was Monday. 
 
 This Pilgrim band which sought our land 
 
 For liberty of thought. 
 Straightway denied to all beside 
 
 The freedom that they sought. 
 
 The Puritan forefathers old 
 
 Had virtues so austere. 
 Their freedom was oppressive quite. 
 
 Their liberty was fear. 
 
 They shunned the Shaker, burned the witch, 
 
 Turned out the Catholic, 
 Believed "Old Nic" a living De'il 
 
 And hung the heretic. 
 
 Austerity, propriety. 
 
 And all the sterner stuff 
 That makes for strength were theirs, and yet. 
 
 We're told, they all took snuff. 
 
Dear inconsistent ancestors, 
 
 We love you for your faults. 
 As in the softening light of time 
 
 The years your fame exalts. 
 
 You rocked upon the wintry seas. 
 
 And suffered many a shock; 
 But, when you came to find the land, 
 
 'Twas only Plymouth Rock. 
 
 And "rocky" was the life you led 
 
 Upon that first plantation ; 
 Yet from your rocks and scanty soil 
 
 Has grown our mighty nation. 
 
 And as a house built on a rock 
 
 'Gainst storm and stress shall stand. 
 
 So Pilgrim stock, from Plymouth Rock, 
 Is strongest in the land. 
 
 Oh, mountains green and mountains white. 
 
 And granite hard and gray ; 
 Your colors, like your qualities. 
 
 Will never pass away. 
 
 The colors of those mountains old. 
 
 And of our Colony, 
 In this hotel are shown so well 
 
 That, on its opening day, 
 
 We"ll give a "knock" to Plymouth Rock 
 
 And toast another stone — 
 "The Blackstone." red and green and white, 
 
 Chicago's very own! 
 
 Congratulations, Brothers Drake, 
 Upon your great "Blackstone!" 
 
 Colonial stock in its best frock. 
 Colonial stock alone. 
 
 Is here today to ope the way. 
 
 Like Pilgrim leaven, let us say. 
 Toward steadfast growth and progress real 
 
 In all that makes for strength and weal. 
 
Culture 
 
 For Culture Club Christmas Luncheon, 1909. 
 
 o 
 
 H. Culture, most elusive thing 
 That woman ever sought ! 
 When seen, 'tis ever on the wing 
 Intangible as thought. 
 
 For fourteen years this Culture Club 
 
 Has kept its upward way ; 
 How can a rank outsider, then, 
 
 Have anything to say 
 
 To Dames of such exalted state 
 
 As these that here are seen? 
 Yet culture fine, which Boston boasts. 
 
 Comes from the humble bean. 
 
 Now feasts for Presidents, we hear. 
 Are made from "possum stew. 
 
 Which erstwhile was a darky dish 
 Not fit for such as you 
 
 And cunning little coons, 'twas thought. 
 Looked each like to his mate; 
 
 But one fair Coon, you've seen this noon. 
 Can grace the chair of state. 
 
 Some years agone, a brown bear's cubs. 
 
 If caught, were kept in pen; 
 While Teddy Bears were idolized 
 
 For seven years — and then 
 
 Cast out for larger game, far off 
 
 In Afric's jungle strand; 
 Which shows the humblest may aspire 
 
 E'en in this cultured land. 
 
 So I have dared, since you have fared 
 
 On richest Christmas cheer. 
 To wish you well and even tell 
 
 To culture's votaries here 
 
 That simple things and simple folk 
 Can sometimes hold the stage 
 
 To while away a leisure day 
 E'en in this cultured age. 
 
A Poet and a Poem 
 
 To Mrs. H. H. Jackson, November 28, 1906. 
 
 c 
 
 ONG years ago a poet, 
 
 "H. H.," had wondrous fame. 
 Today, did you but know it. 
 Our hostess has the same. 
 
 The same, yet not the same, friends; 
 
 She's living in our time; 
 She's youth and grace and beauty, 
 
 A poem in each line 
 
 Of action, word and gesture; 
 
 "A living poem" true. 
 Alert and wearing vesture 
 
 All up-to-date and new. 
 
 We well recall "Ramona," 
 
 The lovely Spanish name 
 Of Colorado's heroine 
 
 Whom "H. H." brought to fame. 
 
 "H. H." made glad our mothers 
 With songs of westland wild. 
 
 We reverence her memory 
 Who those old days beguiled. 
 
 Let's toast the "living poem!" 
 Let's toast the present hour! 
 
 This and the rosy future, 
 
 Best source of joy and power ! 
 
 Better this living poem 
 
 Here at the table's head 
 Than all the have-been poets 
 
 And all that they have said! 
 
Sisters of the Southland 
 
 At Continental Congress Breakfast of Southern Woman's Club. 
 February 23. 191 1. 
 
 F 
 
 AIR sisters of the Southland, 
 With lips like honey-dew 
 
 Aind every grace of action, 
 What can we say to you? 
 
 To you, whose virtues merit 
 
 All praises ever sung; 
 Whose own sweet speech is softest 
 
 E"er heard in English tongue; 
 
 To you, who're more than sated 
 With words that most enchant; 
 
 Who've fed on honeyed speeches 
 From Colonels o"er gallant? 
 
 How can a Northern woman. 
 E'en though with heart aflame 
 
 With fire of patriotism. 
 
 Quite match a Southern dame ? 
 
 Alone she cannot do it ; 
 
 But as a D. A. R. 
 She feels a power within her 
 
 That reaches out afar 
 
 To make this good world better. 
 To teach each boy and girl 
 
 To love their flag and country 
 And cherish as a pearl 
 
 Above all price the kinship 
 Betwixt the South and North ! 
 
 For Daughters all are sisters 
 And bravely they fare forth 
 
 To make the Sons all brothers. 
 E'en those of foreign birth. 
 
 They love to serve for others 
 And do rare deeds of worth. 
 
Since Daughters brave are militant 
 And for the right will fight. 
 
 They do not have to cast a vote 
 To demonstrate their might. 
 
 Their patriotic gospel broad 
 
 Is a connecting link 
 To hold all hearts together 
 
 And ev'ry difference sink. 
 
 Dear Club of Southern Women 
 
 We do congratulate 
 Ourselves that we are with you 
 
 To breakfast here in state. 
 
 But could you e'er have risen 
 
 For such an early feast 
 Without our grim, good Northern vim 
 
 Of lake breeze from the east? 
 
 Your languorous Southern sunshine 
 
 Breeds beauty and repose; 
 But Northern chill stirs up the will 
 
 And gives the nerve that "goes." 
 
 The Wolf and the Lamb 
 
 To Mrs. Christian John Wolff. December 1, 1906. 
 
 T 
 
 HROUGH Mansfield's magic art, a man 
 
 Can be a Jekyl or a Hyde: 
 And stranger things right here we scan. 
 
 Yet with them gladly we abide 
 
 In silken robes here sits a Wolff; 
 
 Still, we make no ado, 
 Because, although she is a Wolff, 
 
 She is a Christian, too. 
 
 This dual role she makes so rare 
 None can give aught but praise 
 
 To dame so fair and debonair 
 And fine in all her ways. 
 
An Invasion of American 
 Rights 
 
 At dinner of the joint meeting of The New England Society 
 
 of Chicago and the Chicago Colony of New 
 
 England Women, at the Anniversary 
 
 Celebration of Bunker Hill 
 
 Day, 191 1 
 
 N 
 
 EW England's name is famous 
 0"er all the world so round. 
 For thrift and ingenuity 
 
 And conscience that is sound. 
 
 She owns the homely virtues 
 And has a "cinch" on speech; 
 
 Says "neow" and "ceow " with dignity 
 And dares the world to teach ; 
 
 Puts spectacles on beauty; 
 
 And has old maids "to burn," 
 Old farms, worn-out, abandoned 
 
 Landmarks at every turn. 
 
 Her "hub" is no mere fiction; 
 
 Around it things revolve. 
 And, when it comes to culture. 
 
 All questions it can solve. 
 
 From over seas, with rumble 
 
 Of coronation guns. 
 Comes "peace by arbitration" 
 
 With other news that stuns. 
 
 And next, this startling statement 
 From out the land of Guelph: 
 
 "The British Isle will make a 
 New England of herself!" 
 
 How can she re-arrange it? 
 
 Reform the House of Peers? 
 Make new or dare to change it 
 
 After eight hundred years? 
 
Now, for John Bull's Old England 
 
 To claim our heritage 
 And use our name, "New England," 
 
 Should put us in a rage. 
 
 New England is our birthright. 
 
 Her virtues are our own. 
 We claim her wooden nutmegs 
 
 And eke her Plymouth Stone. 
 
 Old England has a Plymouth, 
 
 Also a chalk-cliff coast; 
 But it's neither stern nor rockbound. 
 
 The Pilgrim Fathers' boast. 
 
 For that old name, "New England," 
 
 We claim a copyright 
 Which ne'er will we surrender 
 
 To British Lord or wight. 
 
 New England, oh, New England! 
 
 Our greatest boast and pride! 
 We hallow you and jolly you 
 
 At every banquet side. 
 
 Now what is this New England, 
 
 Of which we're so proud, 
 Which calls men here, from every sphere. 
 
 To sing its praises loud? 
 
 New England's not a favored spot 
 
 Where ev'ry good we find ; 
 It once was geographical, 
 
 ' Tis now a state of mind. 
 
 New England in Old England 
 
 Would never make a hit; 
 John Bull is not a Jonathan, 
 
 Our clothes would never fit. 
 
 Though they should try high tariff. 
 
 Or even form a trust, 
 They'd soon get into trouble, 
 
 As combinations must. 
 
New Englanders wear halos. 
 
 The Britisher a crown; 
 Each knows he is superior 
 
 And turns the other down. 
 
 Each knows his way is better 
 
 Than all the world beside, 
 And what has been should always be, 
 
 With precedent for guide. 
 
 Yet, if our British Cousins 
 
 Could learn our Yankee twang. 
 
 Speak speech that we could understand 
 And sling our U. S. slang. 
 
 We fawncy, don't you know, friends. 
 There cawn't be very much 
 
 For Yorkshire or for London town 
 To learn, to be in touch 
 
 With the genuine New England, 
 Which at this Board we find, 
 
 Which breathes superiority. 
 And is a state of mind. 
 
 Fair Florence 
 
 To Miss Florence Hutchinson, at an Italian dinner, 
 April 12, 1906. 
 
 FAIR Florence by the Amo 
 Is famous for its art; 
 Fair Florence, our sweet hostess. 
 They say has not a heart, 
 Because, forsooth, she's never 
 Encountered Cupid's dart. 
 
 Yet, heart hath she for old-time friends; 
 
 For Woman's Club and art; 
 For country's good ; for every good ! 
 
 This maid who keeps her heart 
 We toast as our own brightest star! 
 
 And may we never part! 
 
An Appeal 
 
 On board the Campania, September, 1910, at concert to raise 
 funds for the Seamen's Benevolent Institution 
 in Liverpool and New York. 
 
 G 
 
 OOD citizens of England! 
 And the United States 1 
 And those of other countries 
 Who now are our shipmates! 
 
 We ask kind thoughts and wishes 
 For the Old Seamen's Home; 
 
 For children left and wife bereft 
 By death beneath the foam. 
 
 We ask your pounds and pennies 
 To guard and safely keep 
 
 The battered hulks of men who were 
 Brave soldiers of the deep. 
 
 Their ways of life are humble. 
 And when the strength to haul. 
 
 Or heave, or throw, has vanished. 
 They then have lost their all. 
 
 Bethink you of the seamen 
 
 Who now our straight course keep 
 In safety, through all dangers. 
 
 These soldiers of the deep! 
 
 Then far into your pockets 
 Let each one reach the hand. 
 
 And for the suffering seamen 
 Give ail his purse will stand! 
 
 This order is not one of war 
 
 Nor is it a command ; 
 But oh ! 'tis an entreaty 
 
 We trust you can't withstand. 
 
Anniversary Greeting 
 
 To the Charter Members of Chicago Chapter, D. A. R., its 
 Twentieth Anniversary, March 16, 191 1. 
 
 H 
 
 AST thought, dear Charter Members, 
 Just what this birthday means? 
 You've reached a stately milestone 
 And left behind your teens. 
 
 No more gay pranks of girlhood 
 The foolish action screens; 
 
 You're now exemplars for us 
 Because you've left your teens. 
 
 From now on you'll be knowing. 
 
 And others may behold. 
 How thick and fast the honors 
 
 Come when you're growing old. 
 
 For twenty years you've gathered 
 
 In zeal for D. A. R., 
 To cherish noblest standards 
 
 And spread their fame afar; 
 
 To drink "a cup o' kindness;" 
 To drop the heart-felt tear 
 
 For noble charter members 
 Who are no longer here. 
 
 Although you're few you're mighty! 
 
 You blazed the path along 
 Until your faithful comrades 
 
 Are now eight hundred strong. 
 
 You were originators 
 
 And glory is your due; 
 The rest of us but follow — 
 
 We took from you the cue. 
 
 To you, we younger "Daughters" 
 Look up as to our queens; 
 
 For royal guests you are here 
 Because you've left your teens. 
 
A score of years behind you 
 And many years ahead 
 
 In which to spread the glory 
 Of blue and white and red ! 
 
 We toast your deeds so noble ! 
 
 We toast your silvering hair! 
 And hope the years before you 
 
 Will every one be fair. 
 
 Our Heroes 
 
 At the Midlothian Country Club Dinner, 
 August 22, 1908. 
 
 NOW glory to Midlothian 
 Where all the trophies rest! 
 And glory to our "Youngsters'" bold 
 Who've bested all the best! 
 And glory to the Hunter boys. 
 
 Both fair-haired "Paul and Bob." 
 As well as pater, Charles L,, 
 
 Whom rivals cannot rob! 
 When tall "Bob" brought "The Mayflower" home. 
 
 It gave as great a shock 
 To Sawyer, of the Wheaton links, 
 
 As when ancestral stock. 
 The Pilgrims, humped the Mayflower Ship 
 
 On good, old Plymouth Rock! 
 And glory to the Edwards line 
 
 (Though England claims the king). 
 We've six who play a royal game 
 
 And of whose fame all sing. 
 But greatest of this band of youth — 
 
 Good golfers brave and true, 
 Is the Mason who has builded up 
 
 Great fame for him and you 
 As glorious Western Champion 
 
 Of the greatest game on earth. 
 The game that gives us health and thirst 
 
 And "dubs" an endless mirth. 
 
A Priestess of Peace 
 
 To Mrs. Leicht after her return from a tour around the world. 
 November 15, 1911. 
 
 w 
 
 HEN beauteous Angelina 
 Was on "the other side," 
 
 She held the nations spellbound 
 And peace was then world-wide. 
 
 From Europe to the Orient 
 
 She held all in her hand; 
 So potent is great beauty 
 
 That we can understand 
 
 How Turks and dark Italians 
 
 Forgot their difference; 
 Forgot the plains of Tripoli 
 
 And deeds of violence 
 
 And feasted but on beauty, 
 
 With thoughts of naught but her, 
 
 And in the worship each became 
 A rank idolater. 
 
 The gorgeous Indian princes. 
 
 And Maharajahs, too. 
 Forgot John Bull's oppression 
 
 And only thought to woo. 
 
 While Cingalese and Javanese 
 And dwellers in the Straits 
 
 Just lost their heads completely to 
 The beauty from the States. 
 
 Grand Mandarins and Japanese 
 
 To her alone did vow. 
 And to Chicago's beauty 
 
 Made their profound kow-tow. 
 
 We know 'twas she compelled them 
 To peaceful ways awhile 
 
 And, for her sake, abandon quite 
 Their Oriental guile. 
 
 Now, that she's taken from them. 
 Grim war seems everywhere; 
 
 Yet, if we can but keep her, 
 I ask you: Shall we care? 
 
Patriotic Sunshine 
 
 To Travel Tourists, February 5, 1907. 
 
 SCIENCE says the spectrum 
 Has just seven colors true; 
 Patriotic sunshine 
 
 Has red, and white and blue — 
 
 A trinity of colors, 
 
 The purest, brightest, best! 
 Translate them into jewels 
 
 And they will stand the test: 
 
 White is for the diamond. 
 And sapphire for the blue, 
 
 Rose red is for the ruby. 
 What finer stones will you 7 
 
 Under southern skies or northern. 
 
 In eastland light or west. 
 Patriotic sunshine 
 
 Forever is the best. 
 
 Best for Travel Tourists, 
 
 Best for every clime ; 
 Only in its radiance 
 
 Can lovely woman shine. 
 
 Patriotic sunshine! 
 
 It purifies the air. 
 Simplifies the spectrum 
 
 And makes the world more fair ; 
 
 Guarantees our freedom. 
 
 Keeps ev'ry foe at bay! 
 May its flashing colors last 
 
 Forever and a day! 
 
Christmas Thoughts 
 
 To Mrs. Charles H. Conover, Christinas Eve, 191 I. 
 
 o 
 
 N Holy Christ Child's natal night 
 And sacred Sabbath eve. 
 With friends so dear in home of cheer, 
 'Tis easy to believe 
 
 That peace and good will rule the earth; 
 
 That ne'er a soul is sad; 
 That every heart has had new birth 
 
 And everyone is glad ; 
 
 That Santa Claus is not a myth 
 
 But traverses steam coils 
 Much better than the ancient way 
 
 Through chimney soot that soils. 
 
 And that he still has reindeer steeds 
 
 Which never make a slip 
 In satisfying children's needs 
 
 On every Christmas trip; 
 
 For Uncle Sam has realized 
 
 That letters to their saint, 
 From trusting childish writers here, 
 
 Are needed to acquaint 
 
 That bundle-burdened, snowy man 
 
 About each doll and sled, 
 Since even fairies cannot keep 
 
 Statistics in the head. 
 
 And if of papas and mammas 
 
 There are not quite enough 
 To help dear Santa do his work, 
 
 "Good Fellows" all will stuff 
 
 The stockings, and the youngsters, too, 
 
 Till each shall have its fill 
 Of sweetmeats and all other "eats" 
 
 That make the "kiddies" ill. 
 
We all are like the children when 
 
 "Good Fellows" call us in 
 To wine and dine and spend the time 
 
 With friends who' re more than kin. 
 
 Especially at Christmas time. 
 
 And in this house so fine. 
 Where hospitality is such 
 
 That all things seem divine. 
 
 A Pledge of Faith 
 
 At banquet to honor Mrs. Scott, the candidate from Illinois 
 to succeed Mrs. McLean, as President D. A. R. 
 
 F 
 
 OR queenly Mrs. Matthew Scott, 
 
 Our President to be. 
 The votes will come so hot, hot, hot, 
 
 That you will surely see 
 
 No other name will be writ down 
 
 Or even said aloud. 
 She is a winner, sure enough. 
 
 And one of whom weVe proud. 
 
 So not by stealth we drink her health 
 
 But here above the board 
 At Arlington, we. one by one. 
 
 Pour out this precious hoard 
 
 Of vintage rare 
 Long kept with care 
 
 Till it could touch the spot. 
 When this old town 
 Of great renown 
 
 Should have a time so hot 
 That it could not 
 Be e'er forgot 
 How Daughters fair 
 From everywhere 
 
 Drank deep to Mrs. Scott ! 
 
The Club Declares Itself 
 
 For the Captain James Lawrence Children ol the Republic 
 Club, U. S. A.. May 13. 1911. 
 
 T 
 
 HE J. L. C. R. Club are we. 
 Just twenty members strong; 
 No pedigree, as you will see 
 Need we to help along. 
 
 But just the love of home and land 
 And of "The Grand Old Flag;" 
 
 We hope to be good citizens. 
 Wise, proud, yet without brag; 
 
 And brave and true as knights of old 
 
 Who went on holy quest 
 And fought for love and not for gold. 
 
 And thought the very best 
 
 That anyone on earth can do. 
 
 Real happiness to find. 
 Is to be honest, good and true 
 
 And always, always kind. 
 
 For when we're bad some one is sad 
 
 In just a little while; 
 Maybe it"s mother or it"s "dad." 
 
 Or we who cannot smile. 
 
 So. the James Lawrence Club, dear friends. 
 
 We wish it understood, 
 In all its purposes and ends 
 
 Is very, very good. 
 
 The "Daughters" help to make us so. 
 
 And to them we give thanks; 
 They guide us kindly and sometimes 
 
 Forgive our "worstest" pranks. 
 
 And their sweet Regent, Mrs. L., 
 
 Who's queen of everything. 
 Is now State Regent, O. so "swell," 
 
 And in her praise we'd sing 
 
 Or work with will, or e'en sit still. 
 
 If that would please her best; 
 For gee! we love her, ev'ry one. — 
 
 It's great to be her guest! 
 
The Charmed Age 
 
 On the eighteenth birthday of the Chicago Chapter D. A. R. 
 March 16, 1909. 
 
 o 
 
 H Daughters of the shining hair 
 And stiff brocades of old. 
 As women you are now "of age. 
 One score, less two, all told. 
 
 Felicitations to you all! 
 
 Eighteen years old today — 
 The charmed age of womanhood 
 
 Where each one loves to stay. 
 
 A man must have good twenty-one 
 
 Full years behind his back. 
 While woman's years go round, not on, 
 
 Just like the zodiac. 
 
 Then why not stay at eighteen years 
 Where girl and woman meet? 
 
 Ancestral blanks say eighteen years, 
 Just eighteen years, complete, 
 
 Is the right time to prove our dower 
 
 Of patriotic zeal 
 And martial spirit of our sires 
 
 Which makes the nation's weal. 
 
 We're strong today in deeds well done 
 
 For C. R. U. S. A. 
 Memorial Hall, well nigh complete, 
 
 Makes each one glad and gay. 
 
 This anniversary we greet 
 
 And to the flag give cheers; 
 We've reached the heyday of our youth; 
 
 Thank God for eighteen years! 
 
A Word for the West 
 
 Response to the President General's address of welcome to the 
 
 18th D. A. R. Congress in Washington, D. C, 
 
 AprU 19. 1909. 
 
 T 
 
 HE oldest of the Chapters 
 And largest one as well. 
 Upon this day of welcome. 
 Will just take time to tell 
 
 That not alone the thirteen 
 Good states along the coast 
 
 Can claim old fields of battle. 
 And of their heroes boast. 
 
 George Rogers Clark, the fearless. 
 
 In seventeen seventy-eight 
 Won victory for the great west 
 
 In Kaskaskia, our state. 
 
 His victory from the British, 
 
 Was won on July fourth; 
 'Twas Patrick Henry sent him 
 
 To save the west and north. 
 
 And now we've built a monument 
 
 As well as saved the site 
 On which was old Fort Massac, 
 
 At the Ohio's right. 
 
 'Tis Illinois claims Lincoln 
 And General Grant as well. 
 
 Since our good state 'twas reared them 
 It is no boast to tell 
 
 To all the world our glory 
 
 And claim them as our own — 
 
 This President and General 
 So great they stand alone. 
 
 And in our park named "Lincoln," 
 By Clark Street, all may see 
 
 Where sleeps the last survivor 
 Who scattered Boston tea. 
 
Six score, almost, his life-span, 
 In fresh air of the West — 
 
 Oh, 'tis the Windy City 
 
 That's young and old and best. 
 
 Our soil is patriotic. 
 
 And of the golden corn 
 It yields in great profusion 
 
 The fill of plenty's horn. 
 
 We know we grow the pure stuff. 
 
 Because the President, 
 In making up his Cabinet 
 
 Of those most competent 
 
 For his official family. 
 
 Chose not calm men, with fat. 
 But workers from Chicago, 
 
 And Democrats at that. 
 
 Oh, 'live is patriotism 
 
 Throughout the Prairie State, 
 And 'tis her largest city 
 
 Has given to the great 
 
 New Taft administration 
 Its heads for cash and war; 
 
 (The only thing she's shy on 
 Being a Senator.) 
 
 No matter what one's party. 
 Or who shall office hold. 
 
 If all are patriotic 
 .And true, as true as gold, 
 
 And loyal to the colors. 
 
 Like every D. A. R. 
 Who's welcomed here this morning 
 
 By our good guiding star! 
 
The Days We Celebrate 
 
 At the West End Woman's Club breakfast, celebrating the 
 Birthday of Washington, February 22, 1907. 
 
 THE days we designate 
 And celebrate are great 
 In number and purport. 
 Nor cannonade nor fort 
 Is needed to exhort 
 Us watchfully to guard 
 And keep them. 
 In fact 'tis hard 
 To find a day some bard 
 Or nation has not ta'en 
 By force of arms or claim 
 Of victory won. 
 Or fateful day of favorite son, 
 Or day on which to come 
 To land, or be discovered. 
 
 Some days are great when hover'd 
 
 The stork o'er this our earth. 
 
 And we say 'twas the birth 
 
 Of heavenly genius 
 
 To sanctify the earth. 
 
 One date we consecrate 
 
 To the poet who wrote 
 
 Us a national tune; 
 
 And our flag which was born 
 
 On the 14th of June. 
 
 But the day of all days. 
 
 For the whole nation's praise. 
 
 Is the Glorious Fourth, 
 
 With its bold declaration 
 
 That these States are a nation. 
 
 Such natal days must be extolled 
 Like this we celebrate; 
 Also each time some hero bold 
 Has caused his foe to quake. 
 War has triumphant days indeed 
 And peace its victories as well. 
 
Each church on earth and ev'ry creed 
 The hst of holidays doth swell. 
 The children too must have their days. 
 (Child study is our latest craze). 
 We've days of gifts and days of thanks 
 And days of horrid Halloween pranks; 
 A moving day with great ado; 
 A labor day; elections, too. 
 
 No trace have we of royalty. 
 
 And yet we boast our Georges three — 
 
 George Washington, George Rogers Clark 
 
 And our latest Admiral, George Dewey. 
 
 The hatchet and the cherry tree; 
 
 The axe and splitted rail; 
 
 The eagle's scream; the patriot's dream; 
 
 And "big stick" on the trail. 
 
 These all are symbols of our days 
 
 To celebrate, orate and praise 
 
 Our institutions and our ways. 
 
 No matter what our station, 
 
 We are a glorious nation — 
 
 The finest in creation! 
 
 (None tires of this relation). 
 
 When men and deeds and all of these 
 
 Give out, we take to trees 
 
 And have an "Arbor Day; " or pay 
 
 Our homage to the flowers and say 
 
 In June, it is the Children's Day; 
 
 Or, on the earliest day in May, 
 
 We crown a queen with flow'ry spray; 
 
 And on the thirtieth we lay 
 
 The wreath'd flow'rs on blue and gray, 
 
 While drums beat low and comrades pray. 
 
 These victories of peace 
 
 Are wondrous good to see; 
 
 The North and South both honor now 
 
 The birth of General Lee. 
 
 'Tis heroes make the days 
 
 We praise with lays — 
 
 Sometimes, 'tis true, in curious ways. 
 
Heroes have we who swam ; 
 
 Others who took Guam, 
 
 In name of Uncle Sam. 
 
 One who fought at San Juan ; 
 
 One hero sank a ship; 
 
 Later, upon his lip 
 
 Were foolish kisses rained. 
 
 This deed pained us and Hobson 
 
 And made him lose his job soon. 
 
 Ulysses, too, the silent, 
 
 From April claims his days. 
 
 And on the twenty-seventh 
 
 We go Galena ways. 
 
 Tecumseh Sherman reached the sea 
 
 By memorable march; 
 
 And he who won Manila Bay 
 
 Has a triumphal arch. 
 
 Rash Paul Revere, at midnight hour. 
 
 Roused every minute man; 
 
 And Sheridan on steed "Midnight" 
 
 Was swiftest of his clan. 
 
 On Good McKinley's natal day 
 
 Carnations wear who can. 
 
 And February 27th we toast 
 
 Longfellow, poet and man. 
 
 Another hero whom we praise 
 
 Is "Fighting Bob" whose novel ways 
 
 Of using English do not raise. 
 
 With saintly folk, unstinted praise; 
 
 Yet he's an admirable Admiral, 
 
 "The apple of the eye" 
 
 Of doting public, as is Schley. 
 
 Ah well, if heroes multiply 
 
 And new fetes us supply 
 
 At such a rapid rate. 
 
 First thing we know the calendar 
 
 Some new days must create. 
 
 Or we can nothing worthy do 
 
 But live and celebrate f 
 
Halloween 
 
 To Mrs. F. T. Simmons, Halloween, October 31, 1 908. 
 
 A 
 
 S night is ever darkest 
 
 Just ere the break of day. 
 So boyhood's pranks are maddest 
 Before our All Saints' Day. 
 
 And hence our chief policeman 
 
 Has called a spade a spade 
 And says: "For every stolen sign 
 
 Let an arrest be made. 
 
 "No matter if the culprit 
 Looks a cherub without sin. 
 
 If he unhinges someone's gate 
 Be sure you run him in. 
 
 "It is a misdemeanor 
 
 To find a horse unhitched, 
 And equally a crime, sirs. 
 
 To see a go-cart ditched. 
 
 "Whate'er lacks strict decorum 
 
 Tonight will be a sin. 
 So anyone away from home 
 
 Would better be run in." 
 
 A toast to suit each present 
 
 Were difficult, I ween. 
 Unless we toast the evening 
 
 And drink to Halloween. 
 
 All hallowed be this evening 
 
 When true friends meet with friends. 
 And thought, with wit and laughter. 
 
 Around the board extends. 
 
 So, hostess fair, you've hallowed 
 
 This eve to each one here; 
 A sacred time in memory 
 
 Where good friends grow more dear. 
 
Hoch Der Kaiser! 
 
 At the Kaiser's birthday dinner of the Illinois Manufacturers' 
 
 Association, on board the "Furst Bismarck," 
 
 January 27, 1912. 
 
 A 
 
 S Monte Cristo, famed of old, 
 
 Exclaimed "The world is mine!" 
 These manufacturers, my friends. 
 Aboard the Hamburg Line, 
 
 Though modest each as maiden coy 
 
 And quite averse to fame, 
 Are of that stuff, without alloy. 
 
 Which "gets there just the same." 
 
 Their implements and mechanism 
 
 Supply from coast to coast, 
 While firm demands from foreign lands 
 
 Reach e'en the uttermost. 
 
 Their railroad men the whole round earth 
 
 Have banded, as a cask 
 By skilful cooper-man, to hold 
 
 Most anything they ask. 
 
 Then the stock of all the earth 
 
 Is by their packers branded 
 And, on stock farms or western plains. 
 
 Most any price demanded. 
 
 For all are manufacturers — 
 
 Creators if you will — 
 And what they don't originate 
 
 Could be expressed by "nil." 
 
 They typify this land, so free. 
 
 Of opportunity ; 
 Where workers may grow scarcer than 
 
 Captains of Industry. 
 
 They peacefully assimilate 
 
 The products of the plain 
 Or of the deep, like Buccaneers 
 
 Who sailed the Spanish main. 
 
For them the sun shines day by day. 
 
 For them the ship sails on, 
 And life is just as free from care 
 
 As to a Spanish Don. 
 
 They have the world, they hold the world. 
 
 And every good we see, 
 At their command and right at hand. 
 
 For joy of you and me. 
 
 Each day fresh gladness greets our gaze, 
 
 Each night we're surfeited; 
 Yet sleep the sleep of righteousness 
 
 In straight and narrow bed. 
 
 The captain of this vessel staunch. 
 
 Good Muller that he is. 
 Has flour to feed the daily need — 
 
 Yes, everything is his 
 
 And ours, of meat and fruit to eat. 
 
 Fine wines and other drinks; 
 Yes everything, e'en appetites. 
 
 And always ice that clinks. 
 
 If each has all that heart can ask 
 
 And everything that's fine. 
 Then Monte Cristo is no myth; 
 
 For each — "The world is mine!" 
 
 To entertain its passengers 
 
 On this most wondrous trip. 
 The "stunts" and games have been, we're told. 
 
 Quite foreign to a ship. 
 
 For once the women voted here 
 
 Direct for President ; 
 But on the ship steamed, just the same. 
 
 And not a sail was rent. 
 
 A prize fight, too, that drew no blood 
 
 Nor aught admission fee. 
 While, in the game of ball, the bat 
 
 Was wrong end up. you see. 
 
They "eyed" a pig without an eye; 
 
 But that was not the worst — 
 All tried to walk a fine, straight line 
 
 Through opera glass reversed. 
 
 They've told us of mosquito pests 
 
 And yellow fever germs, 
 And how to them annihilate 
 
 In scientific terms. 
 
 They tried to give to Kingston folk 
 
 A tiny earthquake shock. 
 But being at the hour of dusk 
 
 They only shocked the dock 
 
 And hit John Bull a body-blow 
 
 Upon his island coast; 
 Which blow, we fear, we'll later hear 
 
 Has turned into a "roast." 
 
 This, the only moving picture 
 Colonel Roper did not catch. 
 
 Still ships ashore are rather more 
 Than a committee's match; 
 
 Yet, all along the isthmus line. 
 Past modern home or hut. 
 
 From Colon town to Panama 
 And through Culebra's cut. 
 
 Move pictures of the grandest work 
 
 Our engineers can plan. 
 When Uncle Sam's behind them 
 
 And at their head a man 
 
 To carry to completion. 
 
 Ere San Francisco's Fair 
 That "Great Divide" the other side 
 
 Abandoned in despair. 
 
 Yet, as good a moving picture 
 
 As ever one can find. 
 Is the mem'ry of this journey 
 
 On the retina of mind. 
 
These fourteen days upon the deep 
 
 With manufacturers 
 Of Illinois, are filled with joy 
 
 That we shall always keep. 
 
 And though we women never can 
 Express our thanks in speeches, 
 
 Each one will say, in her own way, 
 "It beats ice cream and peaches." 
 
 You men can't be more grateful e'en 
 Though you are much the wiser; 
 
 We are appreciative and 
 
 AH join in — "Hoch der Kaiser!" 
 
 Titles and Trust 
 
 To Mrs. Darius Miller. January 29. 1908. 
 
 T 
 
 O great New York we yield the palm 
 In just one line of trades — 
 
 The purchasing of titles old 
 With Gotham's heiress maids. 
 
 Chicago girls are wise enough 
 
 To scorn such flimsy bubbles; 
 They know that old-world titles are 
 
 Another name for troubles. 
 
 Nor Austrian Counts, nor English Dukes, 
 
 Could lure our loyal band 
 Of true, whole-souled Americans 
 
 To seek another land 
 
 Each dame, each girl in ail these parts. 
 Can be a queen of home and hearts; 
 
 And yet the finest of them all. 
 
 With beauty, wealth and figure tall, 
 
 Our hostess dear, whose smile's a thriller. 
 
 Is still content to be a Miller. 
 Told we the truth entire 'twould fill her 
 
 5)0 full of praise, perhaps 'twould kill her 
 
The Newspaper Man's 
 Relations 
 
 To the Press Club of Chicago, November 4, 191 I. 
 
 H 
 
 E says Frank Hitchcock will resign; 
 That marriage is his stunt; 
 Next he relates Frank will not mate 
 And be resigned he won't. 
 
 His pros and cons, his offs and ons 
 
 Are truly mystical; 
 We can't believe he would deceive 
 
 With talk sophistical. 
 
 He stirs us up, he calms us down, 
 He makes our hearts to quake 
 
 With dire predictions of distress; 
 Then says- " 'twas a mistake." 
 
 He claims omniscience for his press. 
 And all his news a "scoop;" 
 
 Says other papers didn't score 
 And dooms them to the "soup." 
 
 His head-lines tell us one thing, 
 
 The text another quite; 
 We get confused and then amused 
 
 And don't know which is right. 
 
 Full seldom does a layman come 
 
 To talk unto the press. 
 Of these new members every one, 
 
 I warrant, has his guess 
 
 That speeches from the laity 
 
 To veterans of the quill 
 May, like sophomoric splurges. 
 
 Be taken very ill. 
 
 But "relations" we're to talk of. 
 
 Relations of the press 
 To the public that's so trusting 
 
 That it can never guess 
 
How the newsman of the night time. 
 
 Compelled to fill his space 
 And get his story whe'er or no 
 
 And win, whate'er the pace. 
 
 May sometimes weave a fabric wide 
 
 From out one tiny thread. 
 Or make a theme of his pipe-dream 
 
 From out his tired head. 
 
 Yet his "relations" oftenest 
 
 Are famous for their tone; 
 Perchance that tone they paint the town. 
 
 Perchance 'tis shades of chrome. 
 
 Should editors and owners, though, 
 
 Approve that saffron hue. 
 Alack, alas and woe betide 
 
 The folk they interview. 
 
 Still these "relations" of the press. 
 Though sometimes hard to bear. 
 
 Perhaps are somewhat better than 
 No color anywhere. 
 
 Because of the relations to 
 
 The public by the press, 
 A nation's sins seem magnified 
 
 And yet, we must confess. 
 
 That by this same exploiting press, 
 The nation's conscience wakes. 
 
 And ways and means of betterment 
 Immediately takes. 
 
 So we are glad the press is bad 
 
 To evil men and bold. 
 And that these knights of will and quill 
 
 Most everything have told. 
 
By-Products 
 
 At dinner given by Mrs. Stack to Mr. John Clay, Mr. and 
 
 Mrs. Sanders, Mr. and Mrs. Noyes and Mrs. Connell, 
 
 September 22, 1907. 
 
 H 
 
 ERE'S to a country party 
 That typifies the earth. 
 Its substance, soil and products 
 And everything of wortli ! 
 
 There's Clay for its foundation 
 
 And Sands or precious Stones 
 And Stacks, the richest products 
 
 Of these, our temperate zones. 
 In Sanders' soil grow dainty flowers. 
 
 With Clay, you'll find the "rocks," 
 And where the Stacks are tall and grand 
 
 There's never lack of stocks. 
 From Clay was fashioned human kind : 
 
 There are Sands in land and sea; 
 There are Stacks of corn and Stacks of grain 
 
 To make "fire-water" free! 
 In Scottish, Texan, East Point homes. 
 
 In cottage by the links. 
 In manor of die "Master" man, 
 
 Such stores might cause "high jinks!" 
 But best this life of nature's calm 
 
 With hunters and golf balls 
 On carpets all of living green 
 
 And only caddie calls. 
 Or cries from golfers on the links 
 
 Who sometimes sing out "fore," 
 Or, when the nineteenth's play is good. 
 
 The magic word "encore!" 
 Or, when one's listeners are tired, 
 
 The better words "no more!" 
 
 Let's drink one toast to Scotia's son! (Clay) 
 One to him who guards our grounds! (Sanders) 
 
 To him who's said to raise the wind ! (Noyes) 
 
 And to the master of the hounds! (Stack) 
 
Our Baby Chapter 
 
 At first anniversary meeting of Louis Joliet Chapter D. A. R. 
 
 which, under Miss Lyra Brown, Regent, 
 
 grew from 12 to 49. 
 
 c 
 
 ONG live our "baby chapter," 
 The Louis Joliet! 
 Whose great good works I know of. 
 Although we've never met. 
 
 One year's a brief existence 
 In which to act and plan, 
 
 Yet echoes of the actions 
 Will reach a longer span. 
 
 When earnest women gather 
 In any righteous cause 
 
 For home, for God or country 
 And not for vain applause. 
 
 Their work will keep on growing 
 Like seed in sweet springtime. 
 
 Till the product of their sowing 
 May reach results sublime. 
 
 Results we hope for, Joliet, 
 And surely not in vain. 
 
 From twelve to forty-nine a year 
 Is a tremendous gain 
 
 In ardent, working "Daughters " 
 All filled with patriot's zeal 
 
 To teach pure love of country 
 And every difference heal. 
 
 We felt success was certain 
 When Lyra Brown you chose. 
 
 She is an inspiration; 
 
 Her health, let us propose! 
 
 May this first year of growing 
 Set pace for all the years ! 
 
 Should you keep up this showing 
 You'd outstrip all compeers. 
 
The Real Magnets 
 
 To Mrs. W. G. Pearce, January 2, 1910, at tea, to honor Mr. 
 John S. Stevens, former engineer of the Panama Canal. 
 
 D 
 
 EAR hostess and great engineer. 
 
 You're better than good Christmas cheer. 
 As magnets strong, to draw us here 
 Upon the threshold of the year. 
 
 We'll toast the host and toast the guest. 
 And drink the health of all the rest; 
 
 And laugh at ev'ry jolly jest' 
 
 Since all things here are of the best. 
 
 Better Bide at Home 
 
 At Mrs. Eckhart's Easter Monday dinner, April 12, 1909, at 
 which the Governor and Mrs. Deneen were 
 honor guests. 
 
 THE Governor, our Governor! 
 Whom all delight to honor. 
 And lovely Mrs. Deneen, too — 
 May health descend upon her! 
 
 And health and wealth may each one have, 
 
 And joy that's best of all, 
 Unless that senatorial gown 
 
 On someone here should fall. 
 
 And if it should, what matter? 
 
 We'd lose the one who won, 
 While he'd go far to scatter 
 
 The senatorial plum. 
 
 To bide at home is better, 
 
 And ne'er from friends depart. 
 When friends are staunch as Mrs. 
 
 And Mr. Bernard Eckhart. 
 
Merely an Impression 
 
 At surprise party given Mrs. Worthy, when members of Art 
 
 and Literature Department presented picture 
 
 (a print) in appreciation of her club work. 
 
 May 4. 1910. 
 
 o 
 
 WORTHY is our hostess, dear, 
 
 And Worthy is her name; 
 So modestly she bears herself 
 She doesn't guess her fame. 
 
 But we who know and love her 
 And prize her at her worth ; 
 
 Who've seen her zeal for others 
 Think she deserves the earth. 
 
 She's led our great department well ; 
 
 She's done committee work 
 And never found too onerous 
 
 Those tasks which others shirk. 
 
 She's brought us beauteous treasures 
 
 And given of her best ; 
 So we have all decided 
 
 She now must take a rest 
 
 And sit down while we tell her 
 
 This picture on the wall 
 Is nothing but a symbol 
 
 And doesn't tell at all 
 
 The wealth of loving feeling 
 Which everywhere extends 
 
 For Mrs. Martha Worthy 
 Among her A. L. friends; 
 
 Yet, of their appreciation. 
 Perhaps, 'twill give a hint 
 
 More lasting than this meeting 
 Because it is "in print." 
 
Off for China 
 
 At Chinese luncheon given by French Club in honor of Mrs. 
 Wm. J. Calhoun, University Club, January 13, 1910. 
 
 DEAR honored guest of ours today, 
 If one could only really say 
 In French, or any other tongue. 
 The thoughts that i n each breast have sprung 
 To wish you well, 'twould parallel, 
 In volume, a great college yell. 
 
 We'll have no fears for this dear friend, 
 Because our government doth send, 
 To guard and guide and comfort her, 
 A full-fledged U. S. Minister. 
 And in the land of stoic calm 
 Her learned mind will be as balm 
 
 To scholars wise, Confucian, 
 In Canton, Peking or Nankin, 
 Since good diplomacy can bend 
 Enough to please and not offend. 
 Though feet are small in China land 
 And human life as grains of sand. 
 
 They're not so slow, I 'd have you know, 
 
 For peasant youth can undergo 
 
 The scholar's test and thereby win 
 
 The button of a mandarin. 
 
 Perhaps the women do not vote. 
 
 But there are signs, I'd have you note, 
 
 Of progress there, for ladies fair 
 Wear trousers, men the silken coat. 
 Were I a prophet, I would guess 
 That in a year, or even less. 
 This honored guest, all love and bless. 
 Will be known as an Ambassadress! 
 
Two Pearls of Worth 
 
 To Mrs. Charles Martin Henrotin — of the golden hair — and 
 Miss Clara Kretzinger, June 10, 1908. 
 
 IN mines of farthest Africa, 
 Deep hidden in the ground. 
 The very purest, brilliant gems 
 In all the world are found. 
 
 And from this darkest continent, 
 
 So new and yet so old. 
 Has come a pearl of womanhood 
 
 Set in a crown of gold. 
 
 To Mrs Charles Henrotin, dear, 
 
 We give a glad June greeting. 
 Well knowing that each woman here 
 
 Is richer for this meeting 
 
 With one so brave and eke so fair 
 
 Who's lived in Afric's land ; 
 Who's seen the wild in beast and man 
 
 And knew how to command ! 
 
 Artistic Clara Kretzinger, 
 
 Congratulations now! 
 Though young in years, you surely wear 
 
 Fame's wreath upon your brow. 
 
 We're proud of your achievements 
 
 In far off, gay " Paree" 
 (Now don't make the mistake to think 
 
 They were in the hours called "wee"). 
 
 The "wee sma" hours when Moulin Rouge 
 
 And Maxims are in swing. 
 When foolish ones from our fair land 
 
 Think they are just the thing! 
 
 Ah no, our Clara Kretzinger 
 
 Won in the light of day. 
 When on the line her pictures hung 
 
 And fame had come to stay. 
 
One Slight Compensation 
 
 IN former times, 'twas but in June 
 That roses could be found ; 
 Now. in this great Chicago town 
 Which turned its river round. 
 
 You'll find the fairest buds of all 
 
 Bloom in the winter's frost. 
 Midst chiffon, lace and broideries, 
 
 Regardless of the cost. 
 
 If we can't have, we wish to see 
 
 Each bud as it unfolds; 
 So make the rounds in our best gowns 
 
 'Midst dreadful drafts and colds. 
 
 So here's the compensation, friends. 
 
 For those without a rose: 
 You miss a lot of loveliness 
 
 But save the cost of clothes. 
 
 A Toast to Two 
 
 To Mr«. Miller and Mrs. Farson, at South Shore Country Club, 
 October, 17, 1909. 
 
 OH. traveled ladies and most fair. 
 With whose wise ways none can compare. 
 To say aught worthy, I despair. 
 One might make odes to your bright hair. 
 But that, like tides, hair falls and rises 
 With each of fashions wild surprises; 
 Or, to your eyes, your beauteous eyes, 
 To look in which is paradise. 
 This much I'll say — you both stand fast 
 And have the qualities that last. 
 Your friendships true all greatly prize. 
 Were I a prophet, I'd devise 
 That future ages authorize 
 Your memories to canonize. 
 
For Christmas 
 
 W 
 
 ITH misLletoe and holly 
 Let Christmas time be jolly 
 With just a little folly; 
 But don"t get off your trolley! 
 
 High Tea 
 
 At Mrs. Hammer's "High Tea," February 15, 1909. 
 
 WHEN good friends bid us lunch or dine, 
 We always look for something fine; 
 And when 'tis just plain "5 o'clock" 
 One sees each dame in gorgeous frock 
 And hears, perchance, some lively "knock," 
 Though never anything to shock. 
 Each sips the cup and eats a bit, 
 For, in the words of Doctor Holmes, 
 Such tea is "gabble, gobble, git." 
 But when 'tis "High Tea," what is that? 
 "Oh, something 'highty'," said a fat 
 Curmudgeon putting on his hat 
 To hie away from woman's chat. 
 Or chatter, 'tis no matter what 
 We call it. But "High Tea," again — 
 An explanation — please explain 
 The perfect meaning of "High Tea." 
 Ah, Mistress Hammer, is't where we 
 Sit around the board and only see 
 Daughters and sons of pedigree. 
 Or Lords and Dames of high degree 
 Who never eat but just sip tea? 
 1 think that 9 o'clock "High Tea" 
 Is something mighty, mighty fine 
 At number thirty-nine naught three. 
 When Mistress H. asks mine and me 
 To greet such friends as here we see. 
 
R. S. V. P 
 
 At first meeting of Illinois Colony Club, composed of thirteen 
 
 clubs of thirteen members each. 
 
 September 29, 1911. 
 
 A 
 
 S the launching of a ship 
 Adown the slanting ways 
 Is everywhere attended 
 With meed of wine and praise. 
 
 The launching of a colony 
 
 May well be helped along 
 At its initial meeting 
 
 With friends and food and song, 
 
 And if the new made Colony 
 
 On study is intent. 
 Perhaps they'll welcome questions 
 
 In following their bent. 
 
 Now, one that's been propounded 
 
 About Colonial days, 
 Concerns the why and wherefore 
 
 Of our ancestors' ways. 
 
 If, in the land they came from. 
 
 To turn to left was right 
 Why did colonial settlers 
 
 Reverse this order quite? 
 
 And always pass the other way 
 And say that right was right; 
 
 That "gee" was better far than "haw' 
 As right is more than might? 
 
 Because, instead of coach and four 
 With whiphand at the right. 
 
 Our forebears guided oxen teams 
 On foot like peasant wight. 
 
 And so their whiplash had to be 
 
 At left instead of right. 
 For constant was its use, we're told, 
 
 The ox to expedite. 
 
Still other problems weightier 
 
 On every hand are seen 
 To tax these studious ladies 
 
 Of thirteen times thirteen. 
 
 Were stolid dames of spinning wheels 
 
 And spinets, so remote. 
 As grand as our Dames of today, 
 
 Who"re clamoring to vote? 
 
 Why did Colonial Fathers 
 For freedom seek our shore 
 
 And then pursue the policy 
 They suffered from before? 
 
 Were their days really "good old days"' 
 
 We would interrogate? 
 And was intolerance the way 
 
 To make a happy state ? 
 
 And why were kindly, goodly folk 
 Accused as wicked witches? 
 
 And what was superstition then 
 And other whys and whiches? 
 
 Bouquets for Four 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Leicht and Mr. and Mrs. Pixley, at dinner 
 
 South Shore Country Club first night of 
 
 Horse Show. 1907. 
 
 HERE'S to the queen of beauty f (Mrs. Leicht) 
 And here's to the queen of wit! (Mrs. Pixley) 
 Here's to a gentle, parfait knight [ (Mr. Leicht) 
 And here's to the man who is "it!" (Mr. Pix!ey) 
 Whose words hold the breathless audience 
 
 That ne'er gets a chance to nod! 
 Who can silence carping critics 
 And capture the gallery god! 
 His lilting lines and perfect rhymes 
 
 Quite set our blood a tingle, 
 While our poor muse at best, betimes. 
 Makes but a sorry jingle. 
 
From a Freak Country 
 
 To Mrs. Chas. Henrotin of Kimberly, South Africa, and Mrs. 
 Herron of Denver, June 5, 1908. 
 
 WHEN charming Mrs, Simmons said: 
 "Come sit with me at meat 
 A rara avis I will show, 
 A Herron that will eat 
 And talk withal; also I've meant 
 
 To show a specimen 
 More rare, from the dark continent, 
 A bride. " (All brides are fair!) 
 
 Imagine our surprise and joy. 
 
 As those strange ones we greet. 
 To find they're not real foreigners 
 
 But just the sweetest, sweet 
 Dear dames it does one good to meet. 
 
 We therefore thank our hostess fair 
 For giving us this treat. 
 
 Finer than Russian princesses 
 
 (With names to make one sneeze) 
 Are these two guests of honor 
 
 From the Antipodes! 
 Finer than feathered herons 
 
 Or Ethiopian belle 
 Are Americans transplanted 
 
 Who can tales of travel tell. 
 
 The Powers That Be 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Powers, Mr. and Mrs. Brower and Mr. and 
 Mrs. Lynch. January 31, 1909. 
 
 T 
 
 HE Powers that be 
 Are such as we 
 Much love to see 
 And greet with glee. 
 
The Browers, too, 
 
 Make no adoo. 
 
 And though so young 
 
 They do not woo 
 
 Nor even coo 
 
 In public, as do 
 
 Some who write less well 
 
 Than she (Mrs. B.) 
 
 But if one tells 
 
 How she excels 
 
 It sounds the knell 
 
 Of friendship. She 
 
 Is so modest! 
 
 Isn't that the oddest 
 
 Thing on earth! 
 
 But now, the pinch! 
 A rhyme with Lynch 
 Why, it's a cinch 
 To say nice things 
 Or e'en give wings 
 To two so dear 
 As these friends here. 
 
 Well I know we're 
 Right glad 
 You all are here 
 Our hearts to cheer! 
 
 La Verne has been 
 A wee bit blue, 
 And had a nurse 
 To pull him through 
 The horrid grippe. 
 Now we can sip 
 Or deeply tip 
 The glass to him. 
 'Tis but the lip 
 Upon the rim 
 That he can have 
 For his within. 
 
Birthday Wishes 
 
 On receiving notice of the birth of a daughter, Wilhelmina 
 Gentry, to Mr. and Mrs. William H. Bush, August 1, 1909. 
 
 w 
 
 E welcome Wilhelmina G. 
 
 To this glad world of ours. 
 And trust the rosy little Bush 
 
 May never fail of flowers! 
 
 The flowers of love and hope and joy 
 
 Without a single thorn; 
 So we may never cease to bless 
 
 This day on which she's bom. 
 
 To a Song-Bird 
 
 To Jane Osborn Hannah, the great American singer, 
 January 22, 1910. 
 
 DEAR honored guest. 
 On this bright day 
 All wish to say 
 We love you best 
 And will with zest 
 Your good health drink 
 And then bethink 
 To give the wink 
 To fortune for 
 Your sake, who take 
 All hearts by storm. 
 If once they hear 
 Rise high and clear 
 Your wondrous song 
 Whose notes prolong 
 Our ecstasy! 
 While all agree 
 We've yet to see 
 Or know or hear 
 One great as thee. 
 
Under the Hammer 
 
 At Mrs. Hammer's "Home Picnic," May 6. 1910. 
 
 A 
 
 LL honor to the hostess 
 
 Who gives us summer joy, 
 And never lets the weather 
 In any way annoy. 
 
 To ordinary mortals, 
 
 The word "picnic" spells "rain," 
 But she is a magician 
 
 And ne'er commands in vain. 
 
 She finds poetry in steeples. 
 
 Is great in epigram. 
 And, though she's but a woman. 
 
 Can show up Uncle Sam. 
 
 Of her wonderful achievements 
 There's much that I could tell ; 
 
 For instance, she's a grandmamma. 
 Yet still a reigning belle. 
 
 She brings us to the Hammer 
 
 But never sells us out; 
 And, when it comes to drinking. 
 
 There's never any drought. 
 
 So, in this fragrant mocha. 
 We'll toast her perfect health 
 
 And wish her joy forever, 
 
 With always boundless wealth. 
 
 From Far Japan 
 
 At Mrs. Roby's luncheon to U. S. Daughters of 1812 at Loyal 
 Hall, to prove a rhyme for "Roby" was possible. 
 
 T 
 
 O Loyal HalH To Loyal Hall !" 
 Calls to us Mrs. Roby ; 
 
 And we respond as readily 
 As geisha dons her obi. 
 
Wedding Wishes 
 
 To Elsie Macomber and Lewis Louer, at their wedding. 
 Dea Moines, September 25, 1906. 
 
 w 
 
 ERE wishes, good wishes, like water, 
 A sea would soon fill this great room; 
 
 A sea, nay an ocean of wishes 
 
 To launch the fair bride and the groom. 
 
 And sail would they ever and ever 
 In bliss and in honeymoon's glow. 
 
 Ne'er touching aught petty or sordid — 
 If wishes could make the world go. 
 
 Then joyous, best wishes we'll give them! 
 
 All good on the face of the earth ! 
 And, if every wish shall be granted. 
 
 All this will not measure their worth! 
 
 Beans and Brain 
 
 'Boston Brown Bread and Baked Beans" luncheon, given 
 by Mrs. Albion W. Small of the U. of C. 
 March 5, 1908 
 
 THOUGH ice is on the tree tops 
 And mire is under foot. 
 Though sack-cloth is in season 
 As well as ash and soot. 
 Though penitence become us 
 
 And sad should be our mood, 
 We come with joy, dear hostess. 
 For Boston's famed brain food 
 
 And eke the healthful brown bread. 
 
 New England's staff of life. 
 No Lenten gloom depresses 
 
 Who seek the higher life 
 Of thought and love and goodness 
 
 In this, our worldly state, 
 Where riches do not matter 
 
 And only truth is great. 
 
Autumn 
 
 To Mrs. Casey Wood. Winnetka, 111.. October 19. 1909. 
 
 w 
 
 HEN harvests all are gathered 
 And through the autumn haze 
 
 We see the bounteous shocks of 
 The golden Zea Maize; 
 
 Where maple leaves are yellow 
 And just a touch of white 
 
 Is found upon the foot-path 
 At close of frosty night; 
 
 Or where those leaves of yellow 
 Are, here and there, flame-kissed. 
 
 There'll come some tiny snow-flakes 
 To clear the smoke and mist. 
 
 But, better than the colors 
 Of autumn's red and chrome, 
 
 Is this sweet thought to cheer us: 
 Our friends are coming home. 
 
 Impromptu 
 
 To Chief of the Weather Bureau and Mrs. Willis L. Moore. 
 January 10, 1906. 
 
 G 
 
 OOD host and hostess, ever dear. 
 So wise in weather lore. 
 We take with joy your proffered cheer 
 And love you more and more! 
 
 M 
 
 The Best Creed 
 
 AY we practice more than preach 
 
 That best of all the creeds 
 
 Voiced by Parsees of the Indies: 
 
 "Good thoughts, good words, good deeds. 
 
Evanston 
 
 To Mrs. Shaffer, Evanston, May 29, J 908. 
 
 T 
 
 O dear Virginia Shaffer 
 Let's drink a toast today: 
 
 Queen of our hearts, and hostess. 
 As well as Queen of May! 
 
 We'll quaff in wine or coffee. 
 
 Or eke in Adam's ale, 
 The favored drink in Evanston 
 
 Where never people fail 
 
 To live their high ideals, 
 
 Nor e'er indulge in wrongs 
 More grave than playing auction bridge 
 
 Or singing darkey songs. 
 
 We, of Chiicago, hold you 
 
 The purest and the best — 
 That Evanston is Heaven, 
 
 Nor is this merely jest 
 
 But plainest fact, I tell you; 
 
 These guests attest the truth 
 Since all wear smiles seraphic 
 
 And have perpetual youth. 
 
 Host and Hostess 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. J. H. Channon, November 6, 1906. 
 
 B 
 
 ETTER than princely riches stored. 
 Better than heroes' boom of cannon. 
 To sit a guest at such a board 
 
 In sight of beauteous Mrs. Channon. 
 
 But better yet than all of this. 
 
 Better than merriest Maytime rouse. 
 
 Is calling this sweet house his home 
 And being Mrs. Channon's spouse. 
 
The Young Turcks 
 
 To Dr. and Mrs. Turck, and the Misses Hamilton of Omaha, 
 at Calumet Club, June 7, 1909. 
 
 T 
 
 HIS "party of young Turcks" 
 Just suits me to a "T", 
 But were I Abdul H. 
 
 The case might different be. 
 
 His young Turks turned him out. 
 While ours have asked us in. 
 
 Which proves again the truth 
 That ins are sure to win. 
 
 So to this young Turck party. 
 
 The Doctor and his wife. 
 We pray that every blessing 
 
 May come to them through life, 
 
 While to the fair young ladies 
 
 From far away Nebraska 
 To drink a good stiff bumper 
 
 What richer toast could'st ask, ah? 
 
 No Better Holmes 
 
 To Mrs. Marshall Holmes, at Midlothian Country Club. 
 June 6. 1908. 
 
 THERE are no friends like our friends. 
 So happy and so bright ! 
 There are no Holmes like these Holmes, 
 Whose guests we are tonight! 
 There is no Bush like this Bush, 
 
 Sir William, on the right! 
 TTiere is no Club like this Club 
 Which so delights the sight! 
 There is no time like this time 
 
 When each one's heart is light! 
 There is no cup like this cup; 
 
 Drink deep, dear friends, tonight! 
 
The Course of Empire 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Elmer Black, November 6, 1906. 
 
 c 
 
 ONG years ago. a bishop wrote — 
 
 "Westward the course of Empire ' trends; 
 But when it comes to men of note 
 It is not so today, my friends. 
 
 Let banker great or financier 
 
 Reach heights of business vision clear. 
 The East is sure to come "a calling," 
 
 And in a manner quite appalling. 
 
 And artists, too, have caught the rage. 
 As have the actors on the stage. 
 
 Everything, except the stork. 
 
 Seems headed straight for old New York. 
 
 This state of things we much deplore. 
 And, if they call for any more. 
 
 Well say: "No Sir!" and turn our backs 
 Until they send us back the Blacks. 
 
 Harry and His Hair 
 
 At birthday dinner given by Mrs. Henry J. Furber. in honor 
 of her son, Harry J., Jr., May 12, 1907. 
 
 w 
 
 E wibh you years a plenty 
 To get the good of life. 
 
 And love, and lots of money. 
 Also a perfect wife. 
 
 We wish you cheer and gladness 
 And fame beyond compare; 
 
 All joy and never sadness 
 
 And a nice, new growth of hair. 
 
 Oh Harry, Harry Furber, 
 What have you got to say 
 
 To all of our good wishes 
 Upon your natal day? 
 
Thanksgiving 
 
 FOR every day of life we're living. 
 Thanksgiving I 
 For friends assembled "round this board. 
 Thanks we're giving! 
 For riches added to each hoard, 
 
 Thanks we"re giving! 
 For every blessing great and small. 
 Thanks give we all ! 
 
 Social Amenities 
 
 Mrs. Pauline Palmer sent out the following from the Latin 
 Quarter for Tuesday, May 26, 1908. 
 
 'C 
 
 OME have a taste of the simple life, 
 A dish of tea with me; 
 We'll shake the hand of Myrtle Reed, 
 She's as nice as she can be." 
 
 The Acceptance 
 
 With you and Myrtle Reed I'll be 
 Just on the stroke of three. 
 
 For sight of you without the tea 
 Is surely joy enough for me. 
 
 The Response of the Guest of Honor 
 
 "With you on Tuesday 1 will he 
 In rags both glad and grand 
 
 Although I do not greatly care 
 To shake my other hand." 
 
 Invitation to the Assistants 
 
 If you would look your prettiest 
 
 And talk and act your wittiest 
 And see that everybody had 
 
 A cup of punch or tea, 
 I could entertain with grace 
 
 A king or queen, or ace! 
 So kindly come and help me 
 
 Tuesday afternoon at three. 
 
To General and Mrs. F. D. Grant 
 
 At Easter dinner, March 27, 1910. 
 To Mrs. Grant: 
 
 O lady with the beauteous smile, 
 Who, with a glance, can all beguile, 
 
 We drink your health! 
 We love you now; we'll love you while 
 You go to dwell on Governor's Isle! 
 
 All drink to you! 
 But won't you come again, dear friend. 
 And radiance to our gatherings lend 
 
 So we can toast 
 The fairest and most gracious dame 
 That ever to Chicago came? 
 
 We drink to you! 
 
 To General Grant: 
 
 The god of battles gave our land, 
 In civil strife, for chief command, 
 A man the foe could ne'er withstand. 
 And now traditions are upset 
 Since in his son he did beget 
 A General Grant, who is gallant. 
 And genial and generous 
 To foes; yet can be adamant 
 If wrong is shown. So here alone 
 Is evidence to demonstrate. 
 Beyond discussion or debate. 
 One great man's son is truly great. 
 
 Sweetest and Fairest 
 
 To Mrs. Edwin Earle Sparks at Round Table Club, Washing- 
 ton. D. C. April 19, 1906. 
 
 T 
 
 HE sweetest song at morning's dawn 
 
 Is everywhere the lark's. 
 The fairest dame at Table Round 
 
 Is Katherine Cotton Sparks. 
 
Achievement 
 
 To Mrs. Leicht, who personated the Empress Eugenie at the 
 Living Picture Pageant for Charity, 
 December. 1907. 
 
 WHO thinks that woman counts for naught 
 On this terrestrial sphere 
 Should learn of the achievements great 
 Of one fair lady here. 
 Our hostess — dame of high degree — 
 
 Who titles" glare withstood; 
 Yet with renown she wears a crown. 
 The crown of motherhood. 
 
 In planning fetes for charity, 
 
 A General is she; 
 And, when it comes to raising funds. 
 
 Captain of Industry. 
 She's conquered many languages; 
 
 Mankind is at her feet; 
 E"en women own her right to rule 
 
 Because her rule is sweet. 
 Of beauty long she's been the queen; 
 
 How can she more advance? 
 She is an Empress here tonight. 
 
 The Empress of Fair France. 
 
 Stricken San Francisco 
 
 April 19, 1906. 
 
 D 
 
 EEP sorrow for the people 
 
 Of the Pacific Coast 
 Makes dumb the joyous song words 
 
 Which should have framed a toast. 
 
 Our hearts go out to aid them. 
 Strong hearts of D. A. R.; 
 
 Our prayers go out to save them- 
 Our sufferers afar. 
 
What Punishment Fits This? 
 
 Is any husband justified 
 Who gives his wife a jolt? 
 Now, when a printer's type is pied 
 He's justified to bolt 
 The prim proprieties of speech 
 And grab most anything in reach 
 To hit the one who makes a pun 
 
 Or something bad as that. 
 Now, harrowing up one's feelings deep 
 
 Much worse is than a spat. 
 And whosoe'er shall dare stir them 
 
 Should get back tit for tat. 
 Just yesterday my husband dear 
 
 Remarked in accents bland : 
 "I saw a case of kidnapping. 
 
 Yet didn't lift a handf" 
 "Not help the victim?" wild I cried. 
 
 And tears began to start. 
 "Well, if you must know all, the kid 
 
 Was napping in his cart." 
 
 Time 's Changes 
 
 To Mr*. Gustavus P. English, at luncheon to Chicago Board 
 D. A. R., June 29. 1906. 
 
 I 
 
 N days of great, great grandsires. 
 Quite seven score years ago. 
 Each one of our ancestors 
 Despised the British foe. 
 
 Today we call him "cousin;" 
 
 We've anglomania; 
 And everything that's English 
 
 Has surely "come to stay." 
 
 We toast our English daughter 
 And pledge her faith and love; 
 
 This dame so brave and fearless. 
 Yet gentle as a dove! 
 
High Jinks in Newport 
 
 At the Clam Bake. Newport, R. I., the "p'ay day" of the 
 
 biennial meeting of the General Federation 
 
 of Women's Clubs of 1908. 
 
 THE Federated Women 
 Today are making play 
 While farmers of the Bay State 
 Are busy making hay. 
 
 A million clams at Newport 
 
 Just now are "in the bake" 
 While others of the bivalves 
 
 Are broiling at the stake. 
 
 Dear federated member 
 
 These sins are for your sake ; 
 There's ne'er a vegetarian 
 
 When days of play we take. 
 
 With deep appreciation 
 
 Of hosts here in the East. 
 We toast the generous givers 
 
 Of this great clam-bake feast. 
 
 And while the women present 
 
 Sustain the "inner man" 
 Or dream of the vast projects 
 
 Which federations plan, 
 
 Or sail to Narragansett 
 
 Or on the Cliff Walk roam. 
 There's never a club woman 
 
 Forgets the loved at home. 
 
 The Greatest Joy 
 
 M 
 
 IDST all the joys of health and wealth. 
 Or blisses sweet from Cupid's dart. 
 The best, they say, in life's long way 
 Is eke the light and merry heart. 
 
The Best Gifts 
 
 At Social Economics Club, May Day, 1911. 
 
 IN the all-wise Creator's plan 
 These are best gifts to mortal man: 
 Enthusiasm for the right 
 And calm in cloud as well as light; 
 To see the good in others' deeds; 
 Feel tolerance for others' creeds; 
 To love one's flag and love one's land 
 And feel the pulsing heart expand 
 At the brave deed or kindly one; 
 Quick to forget a favor done 
 To others, yet recognizing 
 Favors we receive; not prizing 
 The gift given to gain again 
 Another gift. They're best gifts when 
 TTie giver gives his heart and thought 
 And gives them freely, all unsought, 
 Forgetting greed or praise or pelf; 
 Forgetting, e'en forgetting self. 
 Such are the gifts we deem the best; 
 Yet one there is worth all the rest — 
 The soul that scorns all base desires 
 And, though discouraged, still aspires 
 To do and dare, to love and serve. 
 And in such serving never tires. 
 
 Always a Head 
 
 In Mr. Head's calendar under date of December 28, 1911. 
 
 WE toast the Father and the Friend 
 Who to each gathering doth lend 
 His ready wit and brilliant speech 
 And e'en the power to preach or teach- 
 in all lines he has fame; 
 Since in each sphere 'tis truly said 
 He is the undisputed Head 
 In fact as well as name. 
 
Our President 
 
 To President Roosevelt, at a dinner given by Secretary of the 
 Treasury and Mrs. Shaw, January 9, 1906. 
 
 THE President! Our President! 
 Elarth's greatest man today, 
 Whose people like the loyal wife. 
 "Love, honor and obey." 
 
 His country vast, united is; 
 
 He's loved by sire and son; 
 His strenuous deed and simple creed 
 
 Leave enemies scarce one. 
 
 'Tis not existence roseate. 
 
 This life executive; 
 And yet, methinks 'tis better far 
 
 Than monarch's lands can give. 
 
 The Kaiser dreads lese majeste. 
 
 The Czar the fatal bomb. 
 While nearly every royal head 
 
 Dreams most of "kingdom come." 
 
 All honor to our President ! 
 
 Long may his good life lastl 
 Secure his fame and great his name 
 
 In future, as in past! 
 
 From a Masculine Admirer 
 
 To Mrs. W. J. Black, July 3, 1909, at Midlothian Country Club 
 
 o 
 
 H, darling Mrs. Jerry Black, 
 
 With charm you're so bedight 
 That every time I look at you 
 1 swear that Black is white. 
 
 While as to Mr. Jerry Black, 
 Though he may jolly seem. 
 
 Could he but see the heart of me 
 You'd know that Black is green. 
 
Midlothian Wins Again 
 
 A 
 
 LL glory to Midlothian's team 
 That the Field trophy won! 
 'Tis not a team that stops to dream. 
 For all were "going some." 
 
 These past few years, through doubts and fears. 
 All, like our "Youngsters," played 
 
 Triumphant golf, at every score 
 Till all their foes were laid. 
 
 But, of this glory weVe enough. 
 
 For, sure as you were born. 
 When everything has come to us 
 
 What need to blow the horn? 
 
 Our team! our Youngsters! and our Club! 
 
 Each perfect to the sight; 
 Since all the world bouquets have hurled. 
 
 Let's "whoop 'em up" tonight! 
 
 Fullness 
 
 At Harvest Home dinner of Midlothian Country Club, 
 October 10, 1908. 
 
 THE moon's as full as she can be, 
 Yet no one cares a jot; 
 If any member here were full, 
 We would wax very hot 
 And speak some dreadful, dreadful words; 
 
 Perhaps as bad as "sot! " 
 Midlothian's list of trophies great 
 
 Is full as it can be; 
 The farmers' barns are full of grain. 
 
 Which makes them full of glee. 
 This fullness is a problem full 
 
 Of great perplexity; 
 Most everything is proud when full. 
 Excepting you and me. 
 
Her Taking Ways 
 
 To Mrs. Henry Parker Newman. 
 
 HER taking ways demand our praise 
 And awe and love and wonder; 
 Yet we wouldn't come from under 
 The charm of her courage high. 
 The gleam of her flashing eye, 
 Nor ever cease to try 
 
 To emulate her and take her 
 To our heart of hearts. 
 She's a woman of such parts 
 That Dan Cupid shapes his darts 
 To the measure of her arts ; 
 And yet I'm sure she could make tarts. 
 
 In Woman's Club the chair she takes. 
 
 And calmly then the members makes 
 Each one perform her task; 
 To take the floor, nor ask 
 "If more won't bore?" nor mask 
 
 The real desire to take to flight 
 
 At thought of any work in sight. 
 
 In truth our Fanny's ways are quite 
 Beyond my Muse's power tonight. 
 
 She's here, this hostess dear, 
 
 And we partake her cheer. 
 If boyhood's toast to her we'd make 
 'Twould simply be — "She takes the cake!" 
 
 The Transplanted Bud 
 
 To Mrs. Adele Whitcomb Blackwell, of Omaha, at her parentei 
 home, January 22, 1 906. 
 
 A 
 
 beaut'ous bud transplanted 
 May later bloom as well; 
 E'en so from this sweet household 
 The flower-like girl Adele. 
 
Though still she's as the rosebud 
 To home friends and "mamma,* 
 
 She is stately "Mrs. Blackwell"' 
 In far-off Omaha. 
 
 And now we gladly give her 
 Long life and health and cheer! 
 
 And may she come more often. 
 This rosebud daughter dear! 
 
 For Better or Worse? 
 
 W 
 
 HEN burns that subtle flame 
 Which blends hearts in accord, 
 One finds naught in a name 
 If love alone is lord. 
 
 Proof, do you ask, of this 
 Most queer of Cupid's tricks? 
 One Alice changed her name 
 From "Roosevelt" to old Nic's! 
 
 What's in a Name? 
 
 To Mrs. Elmer Ellsworth Black, October 23, 1905. 
 
 OUR hostess fair. 
 Beyond compare. 
 With wit so rare. 
 Yet bears a name 
 The darkest ever; 
 But she's all right ! 
 Her acts are white. 
 She's always bright 
 And ever clever! 
 
"As Ithers See Ye" 
 
 To Mrs. Harry Irving Miller, at dinner at Glen View Golf Club, 
 September 9, 1 906. 
 
 O'ER merry Mrs. Miller, 
 Our hostess of tonight. 
 Not brighter is the sparkle 
 Of incandescent light 
 Than praises sung about her 
 
 Right here and everywhere! 
 "A truest friend and neighbor;" 
 
 "A woman always fair;" 
 "A dainty bit of Dresden;" 
 "A gem without compare!" 
 
 This night we're bound 
 
 The Scotch bard's wish to gie ye. 
 
 Just once, a chance 
 
 "To see yoursel as ithers see ye." 
 
 Some Sylvan Delights 
 
 To Marguerita Sylva, at Mrs. Philip Dyrenforth's luncheon, 
 January 14, 1910. 
 
 A Marguerite, a flower, a pearl, 
 A woman's soul with heart of girl; 
 An artiste with a song-bird's throat. 
 Which always strikes the perfect note. 
 
 We own her sway, like joy of May. 
 
 What more, dear friends, can I now say 
 
 To end this lay and fill the score 
 
 Except to tell her, o'er and o'er. 
 
 How much we worship and adore 
 
 Her now and shall do more and more? 
 
 If "Carmen" comes — ah then, ah then, 
 
 "Tis not within our mortal ken 
 
 To speak the rapture she'll inspire 
 
 Or tell her how we'll never tire 
 Of worship at her shrine. 
 
The Old South Chapter 
 D. A. R. 
 
 On its fifteenth anniversary meeting held in Old South Meeting 
 House, Boston. December 11, 1911. 
 
 NINE chapters of the great Bay State, 
 Whose "Daughters" hearts are bold 
 And young and true, and fresh as dew. 
 Claim the cognomen "Old." 
 
 Congratulations to Old South 
 
 That's just fifteen today— 
 The bashful age, yet I'll presage 
 
 Each one could something say 
 
 For her "Old South," if she her mouth 
 
 Would open to speak out 
 Her words of praise for such birthdays 
 
 In meeting house devout. 
 
 But "women should keep silence all," 
 
 Or thus our fathers taught ; 
 So I will write and will not speak 
 
 My words of kindly thought, 
 
 To thank the Dame of Winthrop town 
 
 Who sent to me a card. 
 Her name unknown, yet here I own 
 
 I hold her in regard, 
 
 And wish the Chapter may live on. 
 
 Both old and ever young, 
 Doing such wealth of noble work 
 
 The half can ne'er be sung. 
 
 A Toast 
 
 C 
 
 ONG live our lovely guest of honor 
 
 To wear the flowers we shower upon her ! 
 The flowers of speech and songs of praise. 
 Her meed and due through all her days! 
 
A Toast to "Pleasant Home" 
 
 T 
 
 O dine in state, or have a lark, 
 Or read the rarest tome, 
 
 The finest place in all Oak Park 
 Is in this Pleasant Home. 
 
 We love it in the summer-time 
 
 And in the winter cold ; 
 For every time we visit it. 
 
 New beauties do unfold. 
 
 But not its charms of art alone 
 
 Could draw ten miles away 
 And make each one who's asked to dine 
 
 Just long and long to stay. 
 
 'Tis lordly John and sweet Marie 
 
 Who give to it its tone, 
 So, e"en without the Pleasant Home, 
 
 We'd come for them alone. 
 
 In Memoriam 
 
 Lines to accompany wreath sent by Chicago Chapter Children 
 
 of the Republic, for the funeral of Mrs. John A. Murphy, 
 
 founder of the order. September 9, 1909. 
 
 F 
 
 OR one so great and truly good 
 
 As Mrs. Murphy dear. 
 No wreath could e'er be fine enough 
 
 To rest upon her bier. 
 
 Unless weighed down with loving thoughts. 
 Which those who knew her send 
 
 To honor her and grieve for her 
 Who was "The Children's Friend," 
 
 As well as lover of her land 
 
 And worker for its good. 
 Who failed not in the fiercest light. 
 
 E'en thoufijh misunderstood. 
 
Winning by Degrees 
 
 At Miss Elflie Thayer's dinner to forty young schoolmates 
 about to depart for eastern colleges, Evanston 
 Golf Club, September 10, 1909. 
 
 A 
 
 health to our fair hostess here 
 
 And to the forty lasses 
 Who go from happy homes "out West' 
 
 To lead the eastern classes! 
 
 Tonight, they tread the merry dance 
 And dream of love and glory; 
 
 Next week, with stern professors near, 
 'Twill be another story 
 
 We chaperones, with hearts so young. 
 Toast each one at this dinner 
 
 Because we know, with western vim. 
 Each one will be a winner 
 
 Of honors and high scholarships 
 Which but the brainiest seize, 
 
 As well as gainers of A. B.'s, 
 A. M.'s and Ph. D.s. 
 
 Good Times Going On 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Robbins and Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, at Palm 
 Beach, Florida, February, 1909. 
 
 WITH dinner at the Beach Club 
 And Robbins here to sing, 
 A man of Sand to pay the band 
 And troubles taking wing — 
 We'll say, as does the Stein Song, 
 
 In chorus loud and long: 
 "It's true Florida weather 
 When good friends get together. 
 With wine on the table 
 
 And good times going on!" 
 
The Minute Man 
 
 At the presentation of statuette of "Minute Man" from Chicago 
 Chapter D. A. R. to the Gallistel School, 
 June 23, 1910. 
 
 DEAR children of Gallistel School, 
 We bring a ""Minute Man," 
 Who stands alert 
 And won't desert 
 His post of duty here. 
 Yet ne"er a one 
 Who sees this gun 
 Will ever need to fear 
 Its fire. 
 "Tis simply to inspire 
 Us all to be as bold 
 And ready to 
 Defend the right 
 With word and means and might 
 As were the minute men of old 
 
 Who gave 
 Their all, our land to save( 
 
 Good pupils, "tis for you to plan 
 To guard, for aye, this minute man. 
 
 Merely a Roast 
 
 At General Thomas' "corn roast" on new farm near Midlothian. 
 September 29, 1909. 
 
 B 
 
 ETTER than all the autumn fruits 
 
 Which generous boards adorn ; 
 Safer than juice of Zea Maize, 
 Is this good roasting com. 
 
 And General T., like General G., 
 
 To lead is not afraid 
 Whatever makes for righteousness 
 
 Like this neighborly parade. 
 
The Glorious Fourth 
 
 To Mre. Thomas White, Oak Park, at luncheon for the D. A. R. 
 Board, July 3, 1906. 
 
 MISTRESS WHITE, 
 In the light 
 Of this day 
 Bright and gay, 
 
 Let us say- — 
 
 Hoch to you ! 
 
 Club woman 
 
 Officer! 
 
 Who 
 
 Bids us here 
 
 For such cheer 
 
 We wouldn't keer 
 
 If school kept 
 
 Or we slept 
 
 On a cot! 
 
 Like as not 
 
 Some of us 
 
 In the fuss 
 
 Of the Fourth 
 
 Or before 
 
 Will not sleep 
 
 Any more 
 
 Next twenty-four 
 
 Hours or so 
 
 'Cause of beat 
 
 Of the drum, 
 
 Or tum-tum 
 
 Of tin pan, 
 
 Or crack, crack. 
 
 Or snap, snap — 
 
 Inventions 
 
 Of the Jap 
 
 Or Chinese! 
 
 Days like these 
 
 Make us young 
 
 And the tongue 
 
 Grows unruly 
 
In a truly 
 Foolish way. 
 But a daughter 
 Who taught her 
 Youngsters gay 
 Any other way 
 To celebrate 
 Would desecrate 
 Tradition and 
 Curb ambition. 
 This 
 
 Day of days 
 Which we praise 
 Is a craze 
 In the ways 
 We make noise, 
 Deafening noise 
 To the joys 
 Of the boys 
 With their toys! 
 Statements terse. 
 Such as these. 
 Are not verse 
 But a jingle 
 To commingle 
 With the fun 
 And the froth 
 Of the Fourth. 
 
 The Eftest Way 
 
 Invitation to two temporary "grass widows" to dine at the 
 re-opening of U. L. C. and go to the theatre afterwards. 
 
 STAY not at home repining, 
 It is an efter way 
 To come with us a-dining 
 If hubbie's gone today. 
 
 You'll see a Club made over 
 
 In spick and span array; 
 You'll see old friends and new ones 
 
 And afterwards the play. 
 
Always a Girlie 
 
 To Mrs. W. W. Gurley. January 17. 1906. 
 
 WITH most of us, alas! 
 The fleeting years of girlhood 
 Oft all too early pass. 
 But one there is among us 
 Can stay the years at will ; 
 Though age may win the others, 
 She"ll be a "Gurley" still. 
 
 The Disappointed Lover 
 
 To Mrs. Arabella Allen Keith Gilmore, at Harvest Home 
 dinner. October 3. 1908. 
 
 HUEBSCH Arabella Allen, 
 Mit eyes zu charm ein sphinx. 
 And ways kein man can understand 
 You are one perfect minx! 
 Und though you now are grown up, 
 
 I love you yet still more, 
 
 Or would, but I'm afraid of 
 
 Young Mr. R. Gilmore. 
 
 Dot Gothamite so fearful 
 
 Is tall und dark und stern. 
 When he's around I "m tearful 
 
 And know not wo zu turn 
 To hide mein disappointment 
 
 Dot New York got the best 
 Of all these beauteous girlies 
 
 That grow up in the West. 
 
 Ach, Arabella Allen, 
 
 You're lost to me some more! 
 Yet if I speak gut English 
 
 I'd say nur, o'er and o'er, 
 Kein wort but "Arabella," 
 
 The best one of the lot ! 
 I thought that I would marry you; 
 
 But you knew I would not! 
 
Gladness and Sadness 
 
 At farewell dinner to Mr. and Mrs. B. J. Rosenthal, and Miss 
 Gladys, at Palm Beach. Fla.. March 8. 1910. 
 
 w 
 
 E'RE glad because our friends are here. 
 The dearest friends. We're glad because 
 The days are fine, the nights are clear. 
 And Beach Club dinners give good cheer. 
 
 We're sad because this is the end 
 Of days they can at Palm Beach spend ; 
 Because tomorrow homeward wends 
 The train which carries these true friends. 
 
 God grant their journey safely ends! 
 Now this young lady, just eighteen. 
 With eyes so bright and wit so keen , 
 Is always glad because she's Gladys. 
 
 Young men are sad because her fad is 
 To slight them all ; or short or tall 
 Beneath her withering glance they fall 
 Or fly, like well-hit tennis ball. 
 
 When she gets older, let me add. 
 
 The right young man, if like her "dad" 
 
 In character, may yet get "Glad." 
 
 The Reason 
 
 To Mrs. S. K. Martin. November 17, 1908. 
 
 A LTHOUGH she is a grandmama, 
 /-\ Her heart is ever young; 
 
 And this is just the reason why 
 Her praise is always sung 
 
 By children and grandchildren, too, 
 And all who know her well. 
 
 To list the names of her true friends 
 Were more than tongue could tell. 
 
Good Hand to Fill 
 
 To Mrs. Babcock, December 16. 1908. 
 
 OH hostess fair beyond compare. 
 We see you there with handsome Fred, 
 A royal pair to draw to — there, 
 That wasn't slang, so don't you care 
 If we should tell how very well 
 We love you both! Now, under oath. 
 This is the truth, e'en rosebud youth, 
 Though wondrous fair, cannot compare 
 With Abbie rare in hostess' chair 
 When she doth greet, with manner sweet 
 In this best part of old Rush Street, 
 The men who'd worship at her feet 
 And women who pronounce her "sweet" 
 And "dear"' and "good enough to eat." 
 But we've no chance, there's so much meat 
 And wine and sweet, on linen neat, 
 That I can but repeat, repeat: 
 "Our hostess dear no one can beat!" 
 
 A Leader at Luncheon 
 
 To Mrs. Frederick M. Steele, at luncheon to the Chicago Colony 
 of New England. Thursday, May 26, 1910. 
 
 D 
 
 EAR President I Our President I 
 With heart as true as steel 
 We pledge to you our homage true 
 Because in you we feel 
 
 We have a leader just and fine , 
 
 A true Colonial Dame, 
 Who'll bring to our great colony 
 
 Good deeds as well as fame. 
 
 For this sweet hospitality 
 
 Our thanks, the most sincere. 
 
 And for the N. E. Colony 
 
 Great growth from year to year! 
 
Easter 
 
 AFTER forty days of sadness 
 , And forty nights of gloom, 
 
 We greet our friends with gladness 
 And hail the Easter bloom 
 
 Which typifies the light that lies 
 0"er skies and lake and lawn; 
 
 The clear, white light of hopefulness. 
 Like coming of the dawn. 
 
 Through Lenten days repentance pays 
 
 For all the sins on earth ; 
 So Easter days, the Lord be praised, 
 
 We'll dedicate to mirth! 
 
 No poem will I write to spring, 
 
 Nor even a love sonnet; 
 But may the day to each dame bring 
 
 A lovely Easter bonnet! 
 
 May each man at his board today 
 
 Have appetite of feaster, 
 Or, at the least, find meat enough 
 
 To be made glad it's Easter! 
 
 The Roasting Ears 
 
 When sister Gertrude told us "the roasting ears" were ready 
 and asked us to breakfast Friday, August 27, 
 1909, in Oak Park. 
 
 o 
 
 H gayest of all parties 
 Is in the early morn 
 When sister dear at Oak Park 
 Bids us to "Roasting Corn." 
 
 We thank her for this favor 
 To city folk, like us; 
 
 For such maximum of flavor 
 With minimum of fuss. 
 
Tempora Mutantur 
 
 At Mr. and Mrs. L. A. Goddard's dinner, preceding the ball 
 
 to National Banker's Convention, which President 
 
 Taft attended, September 16. 1909. 
 
 F 
 
 OUR years ago we all went wild 
 About the "Teddy bear;" 
 Who later, like his prototype, 
 Chased wild beasts to their lair. 
 
 And then we grew light-headed, quite. 
 And strained our mortal sight 
 
 To watch each risky flying man 
 In his aerial flight. 
 
 Next on the list of our conceits 
 Was chasing the North Pole ; 
 
 Each one grew hot and then grew cold 
 To find the frosty goal. 
 
 Till now we've read so very much 
 
 Of Dr. Cook and Peary; 
 Of stores and shore, and ice galore. 
 
 That everyone is weary. 
 
 Today the men, and children, too. 
 
 Are absolutely daft 
 To see and meet, inspect and greet 
 
 The smiling Mr. Taft. 
 
 Tonight each lady at the ball 
 
 Will absolutely hanker 
 To meet the lions of the hour 
 
 Each one of whom's a banker. 
 
 Among this crazy lot of folk. 
 
 The only ones who're sane 
 Are our good host and hostess here. 
 
 To whom a glass we drain. 
 
The Ideal Village 
 
 For second Horse Show number of "Oak Leave*. 
 September 12, 1908. 
 
 OAK Park, "the ideal village" 
 Bids you, good friends, attend 
 Her show, to aid the children 
 And asks that you will lend 
 The glory of your presence 
 
 To cheer the prancing steeds 
 (But you may come in an auto 
 If it best serves your needs). 
 For horses are the monarchs 
 
 Of our gay world today. 
 And they shall wear the ribbons 
 And all shall own their sway. 
 
 We promise you a grand time. 
 
 Let it be understood 
 That, while you're making inerry. 
 
 You're also doing good 
 In helping little orphans 
 
 Of Hephzibah's fair halls 
 To know the joys of home life 
 
 In its protecting walls. 
 So charity and horse-flesh 
 
 Combine Ln this appeal 
 To give of your abundance 
 
 And for the orphan's weal. 
 
 Our Friends 
 
 LET'S have a toast 
 That's not a boast. 
 Nor yet a roast. 
 Nor to the host 
 And hostess fair; 
 But one for all 
 Within our call, 
 A bumper tall: 
 "Friends— every where !" 
 
Sweet Charity 
 
 For the first Special Horse Show Number of the Oak Park 
 Weekly Paper. "Oak Leaves," September 4, 1908. 
 
 w 
 
 HY do our equine beauties 
 So proudly lift the head? 
 That little orphan children 
 May have their daily bread. 
 
 And why Oak Park's "400" 
 
 So gaily are arrayed ? 
 That every debt for orphans 
 
 Full quickly may be paid. 
 
 And why so very early 
 
 Do these bright Oak Leaves fall ? 
 That you may read and ponder 
 
 And hear the children's call 
 
 For shekels, gold and silver 
 And big greenbacks galore 
 
 To warm the home and keep the wolf 
 Of hunger from the door. 
 
 Our Own Royalty 
 
 To Mrs. Potter Palmer, January 2, 1911. 
 
 T 
 
 O the fairest and the greatest 
 Of all Chicago's dames, 
 Whom the press and pulpit praises 
 And ev'ryone acclaims 
 
 Each inch a queen, though none has seen 
 
 Her e'er assume the crown! 
 'Tis merit makes and gives our queen 
 
 A fame which will not down, 
 
 A fame at home, a fame abroad. 
 
 E'en in the halls of kings! 
 Chicago's queen is ever seen 
 
 The center of all things. 
 
She leads in thought, she leads in deeds, 
 
 In ev'ry good she's seen; 
 Her charity surmounts all creeds. 
 
 As fits her regal mien. 
 
 No queen on European throne 
 Wears more secure her crown 
 
 Than Palmer Castle's chatelaine 
 Her well-won world renown. 
 
 And so we bring our homage true 
 
 Upon this New Year's day. 
 To greet the queen and greet a prince 
 
 And to the princess say: 
 
 Long live these loveliest and best 
 
 Of all the royal host! 
 And don't forget, when far away, 
 
 Chicago loves you most. 
 
 From D. A. R. to S. A. R. 
 
 At Yorktown Anniversary Banquet of Sons of American 
 Revolution, October 19. 1910. 
 
 NOW, Daughters, as the Sons are hosts. 
 Let's put away Chicago boasts 
 About our growing numbers, 
 And say 800 plus, or more. 
 Is but a tale of fairy lore 
 Or figment of our slumbers. 
 
 To be polite to you tonight. 
 
 Dear Brothers of the S. A. R., 
 We'll own that you are choicer far 
 
 As a select society; 
 
 Yet we, in all propriety. 
 
 While for this feast expressing thanks. 
 Confess we love our widening ranks; 
 And, for the future, there's no knowing 
 How much we yet may keep on growing. 
 
Message 
 
 Sent April 16, 1912, to the D. A. R. Congress in Washington 
 
 during her last illness and received with great applause 
 
 after her reelection as Vice-President General. 
 
 N 
 
 O matter how elections 
 May really terminate. 
 My heart will be contented, 
 My spirits still elate. 
 
 For if we win we're happy, 
 
 And if we lose, we're glad 
 To give to some one better 
 
 The honors that we had. 
 
 Also those long, long journeys 
 To meetings of the Board, 
 
 Which take of time and substance 
 All one can well afford. 
 
 But oh, the joy of meeting 
 
 Distinguished "Daughters" here 
 
 And of great topics treating 
 Doth each to each endear. 
 
 So, if that balloting machine 
 
 Says I'm a V. P. G., 
 I'll send my warmest thanks and love 
 
 To those who vote for me. 
 
 But if it says I'm nothing. 
 
 Why, that I'll gladly be 
 And rest content with what is sent 
 
 Unto the absentee. 
 
 For hearts of D. A. R.'s are brave 
 
 In victory or defeat; 
 Since, truth to tell, they take as well 
 
 The bitter as the sweet. 
 
Newest Neighbors 
 
 At dinner by Mr. and Mrs. Alexander in their New Midlo- 
 thian Cottage, August 8, 1908. 
 
 LONG live our newest neighbors! 
 The ones with girls just four, 
 And were they all such fine ones 
 We'd wish they had a score, 
 So we from them could borrow 
 
 Some dimples and some smiles 
 Of youth to ward off sorrow 
 And shorten the golf miles 
 Which faithful members travel 
 
 To keep themselves in trim 
 To feast, or play the "nineteenth" 
 As well as work with vim. 
 
 We're glad they dwell beside us 
 
 And have those pretty girls 
 With eyes so like the diamonds 
 
 And hearts as pure as pearls. 
 And, though we never covet. 
 
 We're glad our lot is cast 
 Where all those pretty daughters 
 
 So oft go walking past. 
 Congratulations to them 
 
 Whose children marry fast! 
 Like all of earthly blessings. 
 
 They are too good to last. 
 
 A Toasted Miller 
 
 To Mrs. Harry Irving Miller, South Shore Country Club 
 September 10, 1907. 
 
 TO one whose word ever is trusty ; 
 Whose friendship never grows rusty; 
 In whose praises each one is so lusty! 
 She's a Miller, but never is dusty I 
 In fact, sweet friends, she is just a 
 Perfect dear, to whom now I must a 
 Toast propose: "Our hostess!" 
 
A Queer Combination 
 
 At Mrs. Litzinger's large luncheon in honor of Mrs. Oeneen, 
 wife of the Governor of Illinois, December 20, 1910. 
 
 A 
 
 LL hail to Lady Litzinger, 
 
 Who 'mongst her friends did find 
 As royal guest, at this her "fest," 
 A pearl of womankind ; 
 
 One whose lifemate, in chair of state, 
 
 Is Governor Deneen; 
 Beside him she may "Mrs."' be; 
 
 To us she is a queen. 
 
 A state with governor and queen 
 
 Is very odd, I own; 
 But queens of old, we're often told. 
 
 Need not be bold to really hold 
 
 The power behind the throne. 
 
 So here today she's queen and guest 
 And all the rest that's truly best ! 
 
 Her health let's drink with greatest zest. 
 
 No Danger 
 
 To Col. and Mrs. Dickason. December 30, 1908. 
 
 w 
 
 E ail have dual natures, all 
 Who on this earth abide ; 
 
 Not always vastly different 
 From that of Jekyl-Hyde. 
 
 Yet oft we see those fathers stem 
 Who rule with rod and "saws" 
 
 But change with glee, at sight of tree, 
 To kindly Santa Glaus. 
 
 Our hostess here, whom all hold dear 
 And own a perfect charmer. 
 
 In summer-time, by links twice nine. 
 Insists she is a "farmer" 
 
The Colonel, too, without ado. 
 Puts on his hob-nailed boots. 
 
 And walks about and stalks about 
 And, like a Scotchman, hoots 
 
 Out "fore," "encore" or other lore 
 
 Of golf or warrior bold. 
 But that's all "bluff" or "hot air" stuff. 
 
 Ladies need not be told ! 
 
 Let none alarm her! He"ll not harm her! 
 Although a "farmer," he's a charmer 
 
 Like his wife! 
 
 To them, long life! 
 
 How Great Was Alexander? 
 
 At dinner given by Mrs. A. H. Sanders in honor of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Alexander, who had just purchased the lot ad- 
 joining the Sanders' home at Midlothian 
 Country Club. June 20, 1907. 
 
 F 
 
 ROM earliest days to present 
 There's no escape from fate. 
 The name of Alexander 
 Is always classed as great. 
 
 And fitting 'tis that golfers. 
 With name of grandest sound, 
 
 Who come to build among us. 
 Should have the highest ground ; 
 
 The ground that sweeps the golf course 
 And where the forests start. 
 
 Beside the best of neighbors 
 And old Midlothian's heart. 
 
 Now that we've met and know them. 
 
 We trust it's not too late 
 To toast "The Alexanders!" 
 
 And vow, with vim: "They're great!" 
 
True Hospitality 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Ira Nelson Morris, Congress Hotel, 
 January 17, 1911. 
 
 A 
 
 S Morris dances, famed of old, 
 Excel the "Boston Dip," 
 So Morris hospitality 
 Essentially is "it;" 
 
 Quite boundless in good comradeship 
 
 And in the bon esprit 
 That sends the jest from lip to lip 
 
 And fills the heart with glee. 
 
 It were not possible to find 
 
 Tonight a better toast 
 Than this sweet hostess, fair and kind. 
 
 And our most genial host. 
 
 'Tis true we all love opera 
 
 And worship evei^ "star;" 
 But they'll soon speed away from us 
 
 So very, very far. 
 
 To flirt with Quakers or that "Hub" 
 Which turns on Boston Bay 
 
 Tliat we can only say "God Speed! 
 Do come another day!" 
 
 And turn our very fondest thoughts 
 
 To Ira N. and wife, 
 To thank them and to wish for them 
 
 All joy and length of life. 
 
 Woman's Rights 
 
 To Mrs. Clarence A. Knight, December 16, 1908. 
 
 NONE longs today 
 For chivalry 
 Or battle-axe of might ; 
 At Christmas time 
 Of nineteen nine 
 
 Fair woman is the knight. 
 
Who's ever bold, 
 Nor e'er grows old 
 
 Nor shrinks from fiercest light; 
 She goes her way 
 And has her say 
 
 Nor yearns for further right 
 
 Than just such rights 
 As Mrs. Knight's 
 
 Or these good friends here met; 
 Where each one rules, 
 Nor seeks the polls 
 
 Like screaming suffragette. 
 
 An Itinerary 
 
 To Mrs. Mason, before her departure with Mr. Mason for a 
 winter in Egypt. 
 
 A 
 
 HEALTH, dear Mrs. Mason, 
 And to your liege so true! 
 May smiling skies attend you 
 Across the boundless blue! 
 
 In old Egypt where you're going, 
 
 Much is buried, much is hid; 
 But we hope you'll find which Mason 
 
 Built the tallest pyramid. 
 
 We are willing you should tarry 
 
 But a very little while 
 With the camel-boys who harry 
 
 Folk who sail upon the Nile. 
 
 May you find the river's source. 
 
 Follow far upxDn its course ; 
 May you shy from smelly mummies. 
 
 Swindling guides and dreadful dummies; 
 
 Greet the Khedive in his palace. 
 See the Sphinx upon the sand. 
 
 Ride a camel, drain a chalice. 
 
 And come back to freedom's land. 
 
The Lady of the Violets 
 
 To Mrs. M. E. L. Sharpe, of Boston, author of the "Golden 
 Rule Cook Book" (vegetarian). Mrs. Sharpe 
 iJways wears violets. November 1 2, 1 908. 
 
 OH lady of the violets. 
 So dainty and true blue — 
 Not of the blue-stocking type, 
 But of the rosy hue — 
 Who guards with care all sentient life 
 
 And takes the humane view. 
 We honor these your principles 
 And tune our lyre to you! 
 
 You are Dame Nature's lover true. 
 
 Her fruits you glorify. 
 And by your vegetarian life 
 
 Give shame to such as I 
 Who eat of flesh and fish and fowl 
 
 And don't object to eggs, 
 And have been known to order "owl" 
 
 On prairie chicken's legs. 
 
 Is't wearing of the violets 
 
 And always violet hues 
 That keeps you so inviolate 
 
 From viands others use ? 
 If wearing of the violet 
 
 Could make me wise as you, 
 And write a book with such success, 
 
 1 would all meat eschew. 
 
 A Tenor Trio 
 
 To Signor Bonci of the Grand Opera and Signora Bonci, at 
 
 South Shore Country Club, Chicago, 
 
 Apra22, 1908. 
 
 A 
 
 HEALTH to both the Boncis, 
 Signora and Signor! 
 And eke two other Boncis 
 We welcome to this shore. 
 
First, there is young Rudolfo. 
 
 A loving poet youth ; 
 And next comes Wilhelm Meister, 
 
 The seeker after truth. 
 
 Propitious Fate, we thank you 
 For this most happy chance 
 
 To meet and greet these great ones 
 And not, far off, askance. 
 
 Across the brilliant footlights 
 To see the shining "stars" 
 
 Who, to the most of mortals. 
 Are far away as Mars. 
 
 Signor, Rudolfo, Wilhelm' 
 
 What brilliant trinity 
 Of tenors, in one household 
 
 All at one time to see! 
 
 Where Pluto Rules 
 
 At French Lick Springs, Indiana, May 24, 1907, Mrs. Noyes' 
 
 wedding anniversary, the birthday of Mr. Fred 
 
 C. Thwaites and Queen Victoria. 
 
 M 
 
 A^' each recurring wedding day 
 In this most balmy month of May 
 Bring friends around our board to meet 
 With never, never vacant seat ! 
 
 Two birthdays here we celebrate — 
 
 One of a youth, one of the Great! 
 To each we'd fill a bumper. 
 
 To each a glass we'd drain. 
 If it weren't for the morrow, 
 
 The headache and the pain, 
 Also the further knowledge 
 
 That wish for wine is vain, 
 Since "Pluto" holds the trump card 
 
 And we good health would gain. 
 
Discovery 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Henry J. Patten, May 2, 1909, at dinner, 
 
 followed by stereopticon views of their recent 
 
 trip around the world. 
 
 T 
 
 WAS on a tiny island that 
 Columbus found our land, 
 
 And on an isle Antillean 
 We met our host so bland ; 
 
 And, later, Mrs. Patten dear; 
 
 Then here the two together. 
 Whose home a perfect haven is 
 
 Whatever the wind and weather. 
 
 Columbus crossed but one great sea 
 While they have sailed them all; 
 
 We hope they both, like fishermen. 
 Can tell some tales quite tall, 
 
 Of queer folk in this world of ours 
 And lands that they have seen. 
 
 As well as show their good snap-shots 
 Upon the shadow screen. 
 
 But did they ever, ever find 
 In all their long, long way, 
 
 A town as bright and wholly right 
 As Evanston today? 
 
 Who'8 Afraid? 
 
 At luncheon given by Mrs. Frost in honor of Mr. Merry and 
 
 Mrs. Kinney of San Francisco, Union League Club, 
 
 January 17, 1907. 
 
 T 
 
 HOUGH wintry winds and driving snows 
 Have killed each native flower. 
 
 Dame Nature has no power to chill 
 This joyous festal hour. 
 
Earthquakes may shake our Golden Gate 
 
 And wreck Jamaica's Isle; 
 The flames may spread where splendor ruled 
 
 And battles rage; but while 
 
 Our hearts beat true to suffering's call 
 
 And Merry is the guest. 
 Dame Kinney will bring joy to all 
 
 And U. L. C. the rest. 
 
 No day can ever be so drear 
 
 That everything is lost; 
 No word that anyone may say 
 
 Can make us dread a Frost. 
 
 The Smile That Wins 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. John Farson, South Shore Country Club, 
 January 6. 1907. 
 
 o 
 
 UR host has all the courtliness 
 Of old-world Spanish don. 
 Yet when he beams with boyish smile. 
 We almost call him "John." 
 
 Almost, not quite; there is, you know, 
 
 The President, John Farson, 
 With words so brave and thoughts so grave 
 
 You'd think he was a parson. 
 
 Oh heart of ten, and head of sage. 
 
 And good man all in one! 
 We're mighty glad to be your guests 
 
 And to the "South Shore" come. 
 
 Who would not fly a bright red tie 
 If with it went your "eagle eye," 
 
 Your quenchless zeal to "do or die" 
 And everyone your friend for aye? 
 
In the Swim 
 
 To Mrs. Hammer, at Woman's Athletic Club, following the 
 Swimming Contest, June 9, 1908. 
 
 A LTHOUGH each club guest of today 
 A-X Is wondrous neat and trim. 
 It cannot truthfully be said 
 That all are ""in the swim." 
 
 And if directoire costumes slim 
 
 Are "au fait" as they state, 
 Not one of our athletic guests 
 
 Is strictly "up to date." 
 
 But hearts of all are rightly placed 
 
 And no one's head's awhirl; 
 Each one a friend indeed — a good. 
 
 Old-fashioned "summer girl." 
 
 Dear Mrs. Hammer hits the heads 
 
 With shafts of brilliant wit, 
 And wins all hearts so mightily 
 
 That we know she is "it." 
 
 The Power Behind the 
 Throne 
 
 At Farson dinner, following close of Oak Park Horse Show, 
 September 7, 1907, given at "Pleasant Home." 
 
 T 
 
 O "Pleasant Home's" fair chatelaine 
 
 We loving homage pay, 
 And to her health each glass we'll drain! 
 
 There is no better way 
 
 To tell these friends that, though her lord 
 May rule Horse Shows and far may roam. 
 
 The gentle wife, love of his life, 
 
 Is the best part of "Pleasant Home." 
 
The rhymes of praise The Argus pays 
 Sir John, are now well known; 
 
 Tonight the bays, and aye the lays. 
 We'll pay the pow'r behind his throne! 
 
 The Belle that Wrings 
 
 At farewell luncheon to Miss Isabel McDougall, 
 March 24. 1908. 
 
 D 
 
 EPARTING belle, our Isabel, 
 Dear Isabel McD., 
 Your going wrings the hearts of all 
 Though not our tongues, you see. 
 
 For days and days, each friend with praise 
 
 Has spoken the God-speed 
 And tried to tell, although not well. 
 
 How great is still our need 
 
 Of this one belle, our Isabel, 
 
 The life of every band. 
 No other one your place can fill. 
 
 We offer the "glad hand" 
 
 To hold you, not to bid you go 
 To Eastern land or foreign land ; 
 
 No other hearts can love you so. 
 We hope you fully understand 
 
 That here at home are fondest hearts 
 
 That always for you yearn. 
 And never will be quite content 
 
 Until you shall return! 
 
 We'll lend you for a little while 
 
 To sisters dear and true; 
 But don't forget, oh ne'er forget 
 
 That what we want is you. 
 
The Living Mona Lisa 
 
 At Mrs. Goddard's dinner, to Mrs. Dix at Blackstone Hotel, 
 October 14, 191 I. Mrs. Goddard greatly resembles 
 Leonardo Da Vinci's famous "Mona Lisa." 
 
 I 
 
 F Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, 
 
 With paint so hard and dry 
 And a smile quite enigmatic. 
 Can raise a hue and cry 
 
 Of "mysterious disappearance" 
 Throughout the entire world, 
 
 And keepers from their places with 
 Anathemas are hurled, 
 
 It behooves us to guard closely 
 Our treasure, more than art. 
 
 The living Mona Lisa 
 
 Of blood and brain and heart. 
 
 She's a smile that's always pleasing, 
 A heart that's always glad. 
 
 And ways so wholly chaiTning 
 Her friends are never sad. 
 
 Oh, living Mona Lisa 
 
 Our love is wholly thine 
 And will be so forever 
 
 Without the pledge of wine! 
 
 Merely a Hope 
 
 In the prohibition district of the South Shore Country Club. 
 
 June 9, 1907, on a cold, cold summer evening, with 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Black, Mr. and Mrs. Pixley 
 
 and Judge Payne. 
 
 T 
 
 HOUGH summer's chilling blasts are here, 
 And we forgot the flowers. 
 We hope to have "something to cheer," 
 
 With ne'er a Farwell fiend to fear. 
 Oh dear, good friends of ours! 
 
Christmas Greetings 
 
 To a number of friends in response to Christmas cards, 1906. 
 
 T 
 
 HE wondrous lore of mystic birth. 
 The gifts that Santa brings, 
 The "Peace and Good Will" on the earth. 
 The song the glad heart sings — 
 
 All these give zest to Christmas joys, 
 Yet more the season sends — 
 
 That sweetest, dearest of them all. 
 The kind thoughts of our friends. 
 
 Ducks and Doves 
 
 To Mrs. George M. Millard, at Luncheon given at Woman's 
 
 Club in honor of the owner of the "Doves Press," 
 
 October 26. 1907. 
 
 ACROSS the sea there flew a dove 
 To visit with a duck, 
 "And sure," said she, " 'Twill be a lark 
 If with me goes good luck. 
 Dame Mallard dwells in Cotswold green 
 
 Mid sycamores so dark. 
 Afar from city's dreadful din 
 
 Quite safe in Highland Park. 
 And there we'll sing and swim and coo. 
 
 And maybe talk a little, too. 
 As duck and doves are wont to do." 
 
 Oh, nature fakirs, cease romance! 
 
 No birds are on your card ; 
 "Tis Mrs. Cobden-Sanderson 
 
 And Mrs. George Millard! 
 But women may be ducks or doves. 
 
 Or singing birds or perfect loves. 
 
Mother and the Twins 
 
 To Mrs. EJla Wood Dean, at luncheon. May II. 1907. 
 
 T 
 
 O Ella, sweet Ella Wood Dean, 
 A health let us drink today ; 
 She's joy, joy, joy, without alloy. 
 That all of our hearts can sway. 
 
 A health to dear Ella Wood Dean! 
 
 A health to her and the twins, 
 Who strike our hearts like Cupid"s darts 
 
 With always the smile that wins! 
 
 A health to friends and mother dear! 
 
 A health to everyone! 
 We're glad we're here and full of cheer. 
 
 Though the day's but just begun. 
 
 Our thanks to dear Ella Wood Dean; 
 
 Our thanks for this feast so gay ; 
 For day so bright and air so keen 
 
 And the joys we carry away. 
 
 The Answer 
 
 To Harry J. Furber, Jr., on the anniversary of his birth. 
 May 12. 1908. 
 
 w 
 
 E'VE come here to surprise you. 
 No matter what's been said. 
 And, knowing that you're wise, you'll 
 Not fill us full of lead. 
 
 We're bound to drink your health. Sir, 
 And your good mother's, too— 
 
 We'll gather at your board. Sir, 
 Without any more ado. 
 
 Of Doctor Harry Furber. 
 
 One year ago today. 
 We asked this leading question, — 
 
 "What have you got to say?" 
 
And now this question's answered: 
 
 When speeches of the best 
 By learned men are sought for 
 
 With him they end the quest. 
 
 For Doctor Harry Furber 
 
 The world has naught but praise, 
 
 And his profound addresses 
 Have won for him the bays. 
 
 He surely well deserves them. 
 
 For, to his listeners tense, 
 In golden words he serves them 
 
 Not only eloquence 
 
 But thought with which he nerves them 
 
 To honesty's defense — 
 This paragon of wisdom 
 
 Balanced by common sense! 
 
 Good Medicine 
 
 New England Society of Chicago, Bunker Hill Day Celebra- 
 tion. Midlothian Country Club, June 19, 1907. 
 
 M 
 
 IDLOTHIAN greets New England here 
 
 And hopes she'll feel at home 
 
 Amid these mighty "bunker" hills 
 
 And "links" of prairie loam. 
 
 No "stern and rock-bound coast" have we 
 Where "breaking waves dash high;" 
 
 But, like as not, the weather man 
 A rainstorm will supply. 
 
 And we will give you welcome warm 
 
 With country fare to eat. 
 Till you'll forget your pumpkin pies 
 
 And baked beans and meat. 
 
 We've "bunkers" here but no high hill. 
 And "medicine" (without the pill). 
 
 Stay with us friends; stay with us till 
 Of every good you get your fill. 
 
Two Queens of May 
 
 At a Mayday luncheon to Mrs. Edward L. Upton, newly 
 
 elected President of Chicago Woman's Club, 
 
 May 13, 1908. 
 
 K 
 
 S perfect sunsets always glow 
 Somewhere adown the west, 
 And heaven's kingdom can be found 
 Within the human breast. 
 
 So shining May Days may be had. 
 
 No matter what the weather. 
 When loving hearts and spirits true 
 
 Meet round the board together, 
 
 Where friend to friend good thoughts can lend 
 
 And change deep gloom to sun; 
 Where Presidents are plentiful. 
 
 Both "Ex" and those to come; 
 
 Yet, best of all, the present ones — 
 
 Our hostess and the Queen 
 Of all the clubs (The Woman's Club) 
 
 Who at her right is seen. 
 
 Today we pay our homage true 
 
 To these two queens of May. 
 We'll loyal be, as you shall see. 
 
 In what we do and say. 
 
 Seventy-Six to Twelve 
 
 Greetings from the ancient and honorable Daughters of the 
 
 American Revolution to the youthful U. S. 
 
 Daughters of 1812, Woman's Club, 
 
 February 28, 1907. 
 
 T 
 
 O youngest "Daughters" greeting. 
 Fair girls of eighteen twelve. 
 Whose forbears all are noted 
 And who need not delve 
 
Through musty tomes and parchments. 
 
 Or dim traditions' mix, 
 Like us whose years are many, 
 
 None less than seventy-six. 
 
 You'll ne'er be old as we are. 
 
 And none will try to shelve 
 The pretty youthful daughters 
 
 Whose years remain at twelve. 
 
 Congratulations to you, 
 
 Whose ages play no tricks, 
 As do the "fighting daughters," 
 
 Who date from seventy-six ! 
 
 To the youngest daughters, greeting 
 
 From the oldest in the line. 
 May much joy come from this meeting! 
 
 Your healths, dear girls, in wine! 
 
 A Few Questions 
 
 At luncheon for Mrs. Jessie McCutcheon Raleigh, after honey- 
 moon winter in Montana, 
 April 14, 1908. 
 
 OH Jessie, Jessie Raleigh, do tell us, we pray. 
 If wooed the modem Raleigh in brave Sir Walter's way? 
 Did he cast his cloak before you to keep your feet dry- 
 shod. 
 Or hypnotize your girlish eyes to think he was a god? 
 
 Or treat you as the Virgin Queen, the great and good Queen Bess, 
 And bow down like her subject until you said your "Yes?" 
 Or did he come like warrior, or cowboy from the plain. 
 And bear you off in triumph, by force of might and main? 
 
 Or did he come like poet and sing your heart away 
 With tales of Wild Montana where fruit and gold alway 
 But wait for hands to gather the riches spread broadcast ? 
 Oh tell us, gentle Jessie, this leaf from out your past! 
 
speak Softly 
 
 For Mr. Noyes, at Forty Club Dinner, December 20, 1906, 
 
 when Mr. Fred Gardner, the Secretary, asked each 
 
 member to write his own introductory verse. 
 
 EACH one will do for Gardner 
 What none would do for pelf; 
 E'en make a rhyme at dinner time 
 To introduce himself. 
 
 In far away New England. 
 
 Where words and speech are choice. 
 My earliest ancestors 
 
 Were always known as "Noyce;" 
 
 But in the "wild and woolly west," 
 
 Among the Forty boys. 
 To make a pun or turn a jest. 
 
 They always call me "Noise!" 
 
 To Miss Kremer 
 
 Her birthday. May 12. 
 
 T 
 
 O this lucky little lady 
 
 Bom on the twelfth, we say : 
 May each day of your lifetime 
 Be fine as this in May! 
 
 And, knowing that it has been so, 
 We really cannot blame her 
 
 That she's persistently refused 
 All names except Jean Kremer. 
 
A 
 
 Good Health 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Henry Charles Lytton. 
 Monday. June 10, 1907. 
 
 health to Henry Lytton 
 
 And to his spouse so true; 
 
 May smiling skies attend thenn 
 
 Across the boundless blue! 
 
 We trust their trip's a short one; 
 
 To part with them we're loath; 
 And may the health they're seeking 
 
 Come speedily to both! 
 
 On a Fly Leaf 
 
 To Miss Marion Buckingham, on her wedding day, June 8, 
 1910. Written on a fly-leaf of a volume printed 
 in 1804, and once owned by George III. 
 
 DEAR daughter of an English mother, 
 Who weds and leaves our land. 
 We give good wishes, without measure. 
 Also this tome, our best book treasure. 
 Because you'll understand. 
 In looking o'er its covers old 
 
 And seeing stamped thereon 
 A coat of arms, in fadeless gold. 
 That royalty did first uphold 
 And then did look upon 
 This book of Orient lore; 
 For George, The Third, first owned the tome. 
 So, if on British soil you dwell, 
 'Twill be like going home. 
 
The Perfect Woman 
 
 To Mrs. F. W. Upham. South Shore Club, Sept. 29. 1906. 
 
 SEARCH you for a perfect woman? 
 Be sure you'll not search long — 
 She's at this very table's head, 
 Queen of both home and song. 
 
 A Grammatical Puzzle 
 
 To Mrs. Albion W. Small and Mrs. Carl C. Heisen — Each the 
 "most beautiful girl in Chicago." 
 
 SOMETHING to puzzle pedagogues 
 And make the rules of grammar fall, 
 Two perfect types superlative 
 With no comparative at all. 
 
 'Twas "most beauteous Mamie Heisen," 
 
 The "loveliest Lena Small," 
 Both transcendent types of beauty. 
 
 Both divinely fair and tall. 
 
 In parents of those paragons 
 
 Perfection still endures; 
 Pauline's a perfect artist 
 
 And the Doctor always cures. 
 
 When each friend around the table 
 
 Sustains perfection's test. 
 Why bother with superlatives 
 
 When everyone's the best ? 
 
 We know our friends are pure and true. 
 
 And we are true to them; 
 If truth is beauty, this must bring 
 
 Perfection among men. 
 
To Their Swift Return 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. Edward F. Swift. October 14, 1909. jiut 
 
 before the latter started for Europe for the 
 
 winter of 1909 and 1910. 
 
 T 
 
 O our ever radiant hostess 
 And our ever genial host 
 Each friend around the table 
 Will drink a heart-felt toast. 
 
 To Mister and to Mistress Swift 
 We all tonight the glass will lift; 
 Although they do not claim the Pole 
 To each we'll give the Swede word "skol,' 
 
 "Prosit" also "bon voyage" and 
 "Most any tongue that can command 
 The wealth of wishes we all feel 
 For their great happiness and weal. 
 
 We grieve to part, but hope foretells 
 That, like the Babcocks and Revells, 
 The spell of Europe cannot hold 
 Or lure them till their hearts grow cold 
 
 To the one land, the only land 
 Which now is great, yet can expand 
 And always give the helping hand 
 To all the world. It sets the pace 
 
 Of progress for the human race. 
 Yet holds in horror all the "fast" 
 And rapid, which can never last, 
 And still what's Swift appeals to ail 
 
 From motors to a batted ball 
 Or answer to a "C. Q." call. 
 To make our meaning very clear. 
 The fast, the reckless, we all fear; 
 
 The Swift, the true, we hold most dear. 
 As sunshine through the storm-cloud rifts 
 Our hearts go out to both the Swifts. 
 
A Fond Farewell 
 
 On Friday evening, April 23, 1909, a great Farewell Banquet 
 
 was tendered to the outgoing President General 
 
 N. S. D. A. R., at New WiUard Hotel. 
 
 o 
 
 UR farewells to the President 
 Who quits the cares of state; 
 New Generals will fill her chair. 
 But never one as great 
 
 In heart and brain and ready wit, 
 
 In wisdom and in sense, 
 To settle every difference 
 
 Or in the just defense 
 
 Of right, as right, to fight for truth 
 
 With might and eloquence. 
 Without our "Peerless Leader," bold; 
 
 Without her wondrous smile, 
 
 Methinks our white walls will seem cold, 
 
 Its stage a desert isle 
 Without that wealth of floral bloom 
 
 Which comes to her alone. 
 
 There's but one flower, "forget-me-not," 
 
 That ever can atone 
 For our lost Queen of Presidents 
 
 Whom time doth now dethrone. 
 
 Nor chance nor change can e'er estrange 
 
 Our love for her so pure. 
 Since in our heart of hearts for aye 
 
 Her image will endure. 
 
 And now the hour of parting's near; 
 
 Tomorrow is the close 
 Of Continental Congress here. 
 
 So I will now propose 
 
 We drink her health and wish her wealth 
 
 And happiness, care free! 
 Yet in the whole wide world there's none 
 
 Can love her more than we) 
 
The Last Wish 
 
 To the Chicago Chapter Delegates, who sent beautiful flowers 
 
 to Mrs. Noyes on the eve of their departure for 
 
 Washington, April 12, 1912, when she was 
 
 too ill to attend Congress. These were 
 
 her last verses. 
 
 D 
 
 EAR delegates and "Daughters," 
 Your flowers touch my heart! 
 So I make haste to write you 
 My thanks ere you depart. 
 
 May each hour of the journey 
 With comfort be replete! 
 
 And peace pervade each session 
 In which the Daughters meetl 
 
 May wisdom guide the Congress 
 
 At finish as at start, 
 And ne'er a single Daughter 
 
 E'er fail to do her part! 
 
 The call of Patriotism 
 Always the heart elates. 
 
 Of true Chicago "Daughters" 
 God bless her delegates! 
 
DEC 16 1313 
 
X. 
 
 ^ 
 
CONGRESS 
 
 „ „,,- Jiillll 
 
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