THE BASHFUL BOW JOHN B. TERNS A collection of verses appearing In and Out of "Afterthoughts," C. C. B's Kolum in The Detroit News. THE BASHFUL BOW BY JOHN B. TERNS NINETEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN c«\''\p \^ W'^ o. ^"-l L- V /. N. COGNITO He never signs his signature. Nor reveals identity, But sends his dope unsigned, unasked. And remains a mastery. Yet sometimes we are hound to grin, And remark, "He knows the game.'* When folks don't know who writes the stuff. Who the dickens can they blame ? J. B. T, CONTENTS Page To the Book ^ It's Hard on Tires, Too 4 Civilization ^ Class ^ I Can't Understand It o Secrecy ^ Sympathy \\ To Ruth 11 In The Making 1^ Have You? J^ Victory J^ On the Hamilton lo Consolation 17 The Pome and The Stamp 18 Lines on the Opening Game 19 Bores : No. 1.— The Joker 20 No. 2.— The Knocker 21 No. 3.— The Flirt 22 No. 4.— The Talker 23 No. 5.— The Boaster 24 No. 6. — The Borrower 25 Triple Ententes 26 Meet Mr. Diogenes 27 Contents Page Finally Settled 28 Paraphrasing 30 To a Purchasing Agent 31 Taking a Vacation 32 To a Certain Young Lady 34 That Mustache 35 My Wholesale Friend 36 Grace 37 Feelin' Blue 39 Method 40 Population 750,000 41 Sure, Yuh Might as Well 43 To a Party Line Party 45 To Mabel 46 Talking to Claud Rossman 47 Made in "Afterthoughts" 48 Dario Resta 49 To a Bum Actor 51 A Plea For The Half 52 Give It Credit ! 54 What They Might Have Written : *'John Anderson" — Burns 55 When We Two Parted"— Byron 56 "Frustra" — Shakespeare 58 "The Day is Done"— Longfellow 59 "Break, Break, Break" — Tennyson ....61 Egotist! < 62 "I Trust Her Implicitly" 63 Consequently, This 64 A Matter of Opinion 65 Par Excellence 66 A Dutiful Child : . .67 -Bad Oof— Nice Oof" 68 Contents Page Call It Underhanded 69 Weilman 70 The Plaint of the Credulous 71 Meaning Meals 74 A "Jack's" Plea 75 Sulphuring Sandwiches ! 77 Incompetent 78 Tellin' Fibs 79 ADAMSHAME 81 To a Child 82 Self Reliance 83 Then Look Away 84 "Akin To The Fair Sex" 85 Diplomacy 86 From "Diplomacy" 88 "Doggone, I Knew It" 89 To Girls on April First 90 Miss-taken 91 The Poems of Eugene Field 92 "Ain't Got No" 94 J. Henry Jones 95 "Actors On A Stage" 97 'Twixt Cup and Lip 99 Footprints— That's All 100 TO MY MOTHER THE BASHFUL BOW TO THE BOOK. Mayhap a story of love with a plot As old as its one of the best, Or, if quite foreign to love, like as not, A colorful play of the west. It may have to do with evils of war, A tale with regard to the time, A treatise on science, possibly, or A volume pertaining to crime. Who knows? A book of cheap poems like this, To occupy space on a shelf. Which, were it mislaid, none other would miss Perhaps, than the writer himself. Any or all of these you may aspire. To write, and then say of the book, ''With great inspiration I was afire. Time, learning and research it took." A worthy ambition, still we contend, Like others, who for this line fall. You'll find if on books you are to depend, A bank book's the best of them all. IT'S HARD ON TIRES, TOO. That doggone auto in the barn Had sported licenses galore, I vowed I'd never buy the darn Old "Safety Second" any more. I broke that vow the other day. Just sent to Lansing for a tag, Gee Whiz! I'm bizness anyway, That's why I overhauled the nag. I filled her up with gasoline, *'You know me, Al," I made a fuss, A sign hung where it could be seen. Then introduced my "Jitney Bus." I operate on single lines, All Aboard! Conductor treats, I have no straps nor Spearmint signs. But, believe me, I've got seats. Yep, I grab the nickles with that car, I don't give a rap how loud they cuss, "The Breath of Life" of the D. U. R. Inflates the tires of my "Jitney Bus." CIVILIZATION. In Fifteen Hundred Sixty-two, We never could begin to do The things of modern days. In Eighteen Hundred Sixty-eight Each man, a wheelhouse candidate. How foolish were their ways. They went to War with fife and drum, I guess sometimes they took a gun, Some luncheon and some lead. If they killed fifty warriors true : — "What's the enemy gonna do With all those wildcats dead?" But now. Ha, Ha ! a different tale. The bullets fall like healthy hail. When someone starts a row. We mobilize just over night Enough to kill in each day's fight, Ods Fish ! that's easy now. The Captain says, "My men," says he, "Upon our starboard I can see Ten miles away, a scow. You can't see it, but here's the fun. Put sixteen dance-halls in your gun. Exit her anyhow." Civilisation The Navy says the Cap's a bear, The sailors know his eyesight's fair, Dear cannon gives a roar. The smoke has cleared, the Cap'n looks, They hear him say, "Well, by fish hooks, That scow ain't any more." An aeroplane ten miles above. To show it's sweet paternal love, Allows its guns to frow^n. Precipitates ten tons of lead. Which lights upon the Captain's head That ship is going down. En route it meets a submarine. And camps upon the latter's bean. Exit supply of air. When it slides off, the good ship groans, "You know that place called Davy Jones? So long, I'll meet you there !" We surely have progressed a lot. Our warfare's short, but Gee ! it's hot ! We aim ten miles away. Put daylight through an army mule, Or knock flies off a soldier's gruel, That's progress, vv^haddyu say? 6 CLASS. I have no wish to puff my chest, And say, ^'Doggone, I'm there," My English ranks not with the best, I can't say I'm a bear. No doubt a school boy could pick out Some errors in my speech. But there's one thing I'm proud about^ One thing within my reach. King's English I have massacred, | I should be put in jail. The dope a fellow has to read Is where I get my bail. There's something makes you crane your head To gaze at me, and that is I'm proud I never wrote nor said, "Oh, that is yours free gratis." I CAN'T UNDERSTAND IT. "Unkissed youth breaks bones in fight from girl." — News Item. We talk of times so swift that we See yesterday today, Yet to believe the things we see Youth acted in that way. A maiden fair, Ods Fish ! a peach, While at a dance, we're told, Heard sixteen-year-old Johnny preach Of records he will hold. Nay, never in those sixteen years. You wonder what's amiss, What is it that young Johnny fears. In just one little kiss. A maiden listened to his boast, His scorn of woman's lips, And when she slipped up like a ghost, Why, Johnny also slips. The youth preferred some broken bones To paying such a debt. The maiden says in pouting tones, "But I'll get Johnny yet." S SECRECY. This column's long an' lanky, And to fill it's doggone tank Takes more of nouns and pronouns Than there's nickles in the bank. That's why this little sonnet Has been double-spaced just so; But keep this 'neath your bonnet, Cause we shouldn't let you know. SYMPATHY. Do you know, I think I'm crazy For sending pomes into you, Kinda think it makes you lazy, Nothing for yourself to do. When I get you in the habit Of receiving daily rhymes, You don't care a pink-eyed rabbit For the stamps it costs at times. Sympathy, that's why I fire it. That's the reason you receive. Not because my health requires it, As perhaps you may believe. No, doggone it, I am healthy. That's not why you hear from me, Neither does this make me wealthy. Nope, it's only Sympathy. 10 TO RUTH. "Ruth jilts silent lover because he lacks social accomplishments."— News Item. I loved you and you didn't know I thought you were the best. You couldn't know, 'twas hidden so Deep underneath my vest. Long distance courtship is no good I realize that now. When 'twas no good perhaps I should Have learned the real way how. I couldn't dance nor entertain, And even when I tried To entertain, it was in vain, That's why my hope has died. Still, I'm longing to be near thee, To have a Ruth at home. Would you hear me, maybe cheer me, If I'd learn t' write a pome. 11 IN THE MAKING. When people ask how long it takes To spoil a pulsing rim, The Good Bard cries, "It's cakes and pies!" Or seemeth so to him. "Just as ye would, ye Common Herd, Yyour thoughts in prose ihdite. With equal ease, I plant a wheeze In poems that I write. "You do not think I labor long, And cuss the Fickle Muse, Nor heave a sigh, think you that I Such stupid methods use? "That oftentimes my matchless lyre, One twanged by Allan Bane, Cuts loose, and grinds out sluggish lines That wax a Bard profane?" You cannot for one moment think Such thoughts as these, forsooth, 'Cause if you did no doubt you'd skid Too doggone near the Truth ! 12 HAVE YOU? I'm feeling sad, for on my mind There rests a heavy care, At every public place I find This fear besets me there. When I get up to make a speech, I notice with a frown My trousers half way up the beach, The blamed things won't go down. I have to shake my legs and kick My hosiery's on view. Gee, I confess this makes me sick, Have you this trouble, too? 13 VICTORY. What would be the use of winning laurels, If not in spite of Opposition's sway, Why establish great and cleaner morals, If tempters did not strive to win the day? Victory is only sweet when fought for, And not when someone throws away the game. They, who will not pay the price it's bought for. Will never reach the higher flights of fame. Great success is never won by laughter, And none of us can claim ourselves adept, 'Till we can accomplish what we're after With rivals fighting back at every step, Life was made to take, and not for giving. We must accept our chances with the bunch. Some of us don't really know we're living. Yes, some of us there are who lack the punch. 14 yiciory Get the punch, and when you get it, use it, Remember, use it, set a pace that's keen, But be positive you don't abuse it. Be sure the victories you win are clean. Recognize the fact that joys of winning Are only empty, as some folks contend. When we don't fight clean from the begin- ning, Employing unfair means to gain our end. 15 •'ON THE HAMILTON." 50-50 With "On the 5.15." On the Hamilton, On the Hamilton, From half-past four we have a jam 'till one. You couldn't get a seat if you owned some shares, Conductor keeps ringin' up the Company's fares. Look at your dad, for I'm a sample son. Of the Straphangers on the Hamilton. On the Hamilton, On the Hamilton, See the blamed thing coming, now stand still, Hon, Of course, they'll slacken up when they see us here. Went right by ! but there's another far off, dear. They're not very fast, but they can kill some. Nature takes its course on the Hamilton. On the Hamilton, On the Hamilton, This, boys, I call a pretty dam-still-one Safety First exponents never go pell mell. They call it Hamilton, but I caU it (deleted) Please go and get your dad a candle, son. Papa's gonna hunt for a Hamilton. 16 CONSOLATION. If I sit me at my table, Pome inspired and feeling able To knock off a pulsing lay. Why is it that verses thought out, Strong of text and really sought out, Perish, withering away ; Whilst the odes knocked off at random. Carelessly, and with abandon, Straightway make a three base hit? — Worthless, those, you think your block of¥, Whilst the doggone ones you knock off People call distinctly it. Quit Morpheus, Bard, awaken. What's that line of talk you're makin'? We get that from every Pote. Thought out verse, and odes at random Which you write, no one can stand 'em, You annex the Public's goat. 17 THE POME AND THE STAMP. (One half belongs to — Longfellow) I shot a pome into the News, It struck a desk, I know not wTiose ; For C. C. B. to me, Oh Bud! Is just as clear, forsooth, as mud. Attached, a stamp, likewise the News Received it. Hands? I knew not whose; For who may guess this C. C. B. Which clear as mud appears to me? Not long afterward, in the "Thoughts" I found the pome with alsowroughts ; And the stamp, like the others the Boss Charged once again to Profit & Loss. 18 LINES ON THE OPENING GAME. Picture skies of heavy gray, Now and then a rain drop falls, Dark clouds in the milky way, (And another rain drop falls.) Umpire takes a slant around, Whilst the players watch the sky, Then the crowd begins its cry. Grim excitement is at par — "Th' Batteries for today — " Makes no difference what they are. You can't hear them anyway. Nine frames sitting in the stands, Freezing fingers, stamping feet, List'ning to the ragtime bands. Watch the Home Team getting beat. Game is over, get home late, Buy an extra, see who tossed. Got a cold, doggone the fate ! Braved all this, the Home Team lost. 19 BORES. No. 1.— The Joker. Adam and Eve, I'd just as leave Peek dov^n a loaded gun, As have to hear year after year The same moth-eaten pun. There is one Pete upon our street Who tells a joke that died. And for a fact, dates further back Than Solomon's first bride. He chews it thru, and thinks that you Should swell right up and burst. If he don't stop, I guess this Top Will occupy a hearse. Pie buttonholes poor passing souls And says, "Lend me your ears, Now listen bloke, I've got a joke, The best you've heard in years." And then this Yank just turns his crank And spills an ancient joke. That Sitting Bull exchanged for wool When John D's dad went broke. 20 BORES. No. 2.— The Knocker. From shore to shore, the biggest bore In Wilson's vast domain, The Human Ox who always knocks In sunshine or in rain. Should Old Man Morse purchase a horse, The knocker's sure to rile, For he believes the horse had heaves When hoop skirts were in style. If B & R is over par, He says : **My noble friends, Don't take a chance, it won't advance," And then the stock ascends. A maiden fair. Ye Gods ! a Bear, Winkis at me as I go. The bore says : "J^^^^j I P^3.y keep back, She'll make you spend your dough." I hesitate, yon maid don't wait, Vamoose ! she disappears, Ods Fish ! a rock, but he's a block From me, I stand in tears. 21 BORES. No. 3.— -The Flirt. Land of the Free, deHver me From that Conceited Jay, Who stands upon our village sands From morn 'till break of day. Each girl he sees this dub believes Is anxious for his smile. While some good Bo in Kokomo Has her annexed a mile. His Azurea is fresh each day. He uses all that stuff. He winks his eye and heaves a sigh Like locomotives pufif. He tips his lid, a Pontypridd, And One Steps up and down, This Prince of Ginks most surely thinks He owns each maid in Town. He doesn't, though, I'll tell him so. And if he courts my frail, I'll mobilize around his eyes. Then spend a month in jail. 22 BORES. No. 4.— The Talker. I hope and pray that some bright day This Dub will disappear. He'll talk all night with supermight If some one's 'round to hear. He speaks a lot of aimless rot, And never says a thing, 'Till someone cries 'midst sobs and sighs, ''We'd rather have you sing." If he would spout, and then run out Of Webster's merry dope, 'Twere not so bad, and we'd be glad To only use a rope. But this here Gink can always think Up some word in his staff. He chews a word we've never heard Like some Chink Phonograph. By common choice, ''His Master's Voice" Is much preferred in Town, By Shakespeare's sox a music box W^ill finally run down. 23 BORES. No. 5.— The Boaster. My heart was glad because I had Achieved undying fame. I had excelled, my friends all yelled Aloud my noble name. I looked around the baseball ground, It all came like a dream, — Upon that lot without a swat, I beat the Slugville Team. ''That wasn't great," said one team-mate, 'They hit foul balls at Avill, Now listen, Steve, if I had heaved They'd never seen the pill. "Why, I have twirled around the world, My curve is like a hook. This guy, Ty Cobb, I made him sob, And I just threw a look." If I could go to Kokomo In thirteen seconds flat. This dub could run around the Sun Ten seconds less than that. 24 BORES. No. 6. — The Borrower. Gosh, let me hide some place inside So he won't know I'm here. Suspenders he, has boned from me, He wants my pants I fear I never can escape that man, He borrows left and right, He has my goats, ten five case notes Shot higher than a kite. My wire door mat, my dog and cat, He's transferred to his home, And I can't get them on a bet, Hence, this regretful pome. My two-horse hack he won't bring back, And if I make some squeals. He says, "Now please, some axle grease, I needs must gum the wheels." He never lets his sundry debts Cause him the slightest fuss. While stung folks drink, and cuss the Gink, Who owes the populace. 25 TRIPLE ENTENTES. Of Triple Ententes we've inspected a few, Oh, yes, and our mind is made up, They've all demonstrated the things they can do. And now we're awarding the cup. There's the time honored trio novels speak of, A maiden for whom two men long, These three are to blame for our stories of love. This Triple Entente's fairly strong. Then there's the triangle they once had in Chi, Those Boys copped their games in advance. And many a Fan has perused with a sigh, "From Tinker to Evers to Chance." Friend Europe's responsible for an Entente, The English, the Russians, the French. This Trio, however's considerably bent. At present it's warming the Bench. **The Last shall be First" is quite true in this case. And it starts when the Georgia Peach Hits a single to center, steals second base, And romps home with Crawford and Veach. MEET MR. DIOGENES. "PARTNER wanted. If I can get an honest part- ner to join me in my real estate business I will take a good man if honest. One who could take care of ofllce." — From a Liner Page. A Big Jack-Lantern in my hand, I Sherlock Holmes this doggone land With nothing else in mind, Than to find someone I can trust. Who will not swipe my daily crust When I pass up the grind. If I should get it in my crown To go out and inspect the Town, I'd hate to come back and Find out some thieving submarine Has brushed me absitively clean, And quit our Neutral Strand. On advertising, I am bent To find some good, straightforward Gent, Who will not clean me out. I will not pass the S. G. up, I'll buy for him a loving cup And heave a joyous shout. 27 FINALLY SETTLED. No doubt by this time you have read That Winter's absolutely dead, And all its relatives, to boot, Have packed their grips and followed suit. The storms and flurries all have passed, Gone is the ice w^hich one harassed, The slips and slides v^hich courted cussing Have one and all gone Jitney Bussing. Winter's gone, and the days are fair, Pass up the cold and icy stare. You notice white clouds overhead. So why prefer dark ones instead? When everything is gay, then see Of all that's sad your system's free. Winter has, why the deuce don't you Tell them politely to skidoo? Oh, why do we seek Trouble's Forts, We, cheap and inexpensive sports? Why don't we toss it in the hatch, And fire the whole blamed shooting match. 28 Finally Settled What if your neighbor put it over, And sold you Timothy for Clover? Just pat him on the back, and say, "Gee Whiz, Old Top, that was some hay !" It's time to clean your house of all It's piker bitterness and gall, Just say, "Each grievance I have got Is second-handed tommyrot." If some Jay sold you golden bricks. Forget to register your kicks. Dame Fortune smiles, and so does Spring, I'm glad, to'ell with everything. 29 PARAPHRASING. Her eyes may shine as Mazdas shine, Her face and form may be divine, Like Venus she may be, E'en of these things folks talk about — The girl whom every Jay takes out Cannot go out with me. Though every mother's son may say, "She has some entertaining way. And in addition, she Is clever, witty, there's no doubt." The maid whom every male takes out Cannot go out with me. The girl for whom a big mob waits, And who keeps schedules of her dates. With not an evening free, Is too blamed popular, I shout. The maiden every John takes out Cannot go out with me. Of course, the lady might not let Me entertain her on a bet. To that I will agree ; But that fact don't put me to rout. The *'She" whom every **He" takes out Cannot go out with me. 30 TO A PURCHASING AGENT. My Line was good, I thought you would Give me a goodly order, Instead of that, you threw me flat And chased me from your Border. My prices, I was told, were high, I cut them, wise and sanely. They're bleeding now, wilt tell me how Cut more, and still humanely? You tell me if I want your Biz, I must quote lower prices. Doggone, I'm losing as it is On these first class devices. Dear House won't let me on a bet Dispose of them much cheaper; But, Oh P. A., buy them, I say, I'm Death's superior reaper. You are the King, I'll buy the drinks, I'm simply Neuter Gender, And this is why the S. M. thinks That I'm a heavy spender! 31 TAKING A VACATION. When things are moving slowly, and I'm even with my work, Not just because I'm lazy, or Because I wish to shirk, I read the pamphlets telling how To spend vacation days. And where to go to have a time Which actually pays. In glowing terms they tell me to "Choose Silver Lake for mine" Because that's *'a place of quiet" And "fishing's really fine." Another says, "Just pack your grip And say Good-bye to noise. Come out where Nature weaves a web Around her sylvan joys." I wonder which one beckons me, Which has the greatest charm, Seaside, Backwoods, A Water Trip, Or Silas Perkins' Farm? 32 Taking a Vacation Each has it's own attraction, and Invites me temptingly To patronize the joys of which Its pages have told me ; But then quite suddenly I think Of why I'm drawing pay, And then toss those "mind vacations" Disgustedly away. "Oh why do they tempt poor mortals With pamphlets such?" I rave, "If I could see that Poster Man, I'd see him to his grave !" 33 TO A CERTAIN YOUNG LADY. (Purely Personal) Now, don't get angry if I fail To write to you a note, Oh, pretty, witty, charming frail, Whom I met on the boat. I didn't write your address down, But stored it in my dome. Which has forgotten, and so how'n The deuce write to your home? One thing I know, you live not in The City of the Straits- Forgot the Town, and for that sin I've lost a dozen dates. 34 THAT MUSTACHE. I know that the Jay who first sprung it Has been dead for a number of years, And lately the Bards who have sung it Have been carried away on their biers. But here with the risk, and I'm willing To poem that mustache you bear. And even to lend you a shilling To remove that furrow of hair. Oh, Brother of mine, pray relinquish Your hold on that parcel of sward. It makes you look no more distinguished Than a One Man Top on a (about $550)* When youngsters, we promised each other That never we'd don one, and now. Why hast thou betrayed me, my brother. Oh, why hast thou broken thy vow? At this writing. 35 MY WHOLESALE FRIEND. How fortunate it is, how nice To have a Pal like you, To fill my wants at wholesale price, And cut the cost in two. My negligee, my silken hose You furnish from your store, If purchased elsewhere, goodness knows, They'd frisk my purse for more. And you don't hesitate to say, "Look what I'm selling at, The retail price you'd have to pay Would be just double that." How human like it is, that I Sometimes would like to see The price tags, and thus verify The tales you tell to me. 36 GRACE. (See Eugene Field). At length I dwell upon her hair, I'm sure no Frail possesses A face like her's, so sweet, so rare, Framed by such flowing tresses, In pictures often times you've seen "The Loveliest of Faces," That of the most entrancing queen Perhaps compares with Grace's. Admit, she has bewitching eyes. Screened by long, drooping lashes, Which even as the bright sun, rise, And dazzle with their flashes. They are of such a liquid brown, A source of ''untold cases," No other maiden in the Town Can boast such eyes as Grace's. Her voice so gentle is, and low. It lulls the raptured hearer, And he all pleasures would forego. Forever to be near her. Her way is modest, gentle, kind, All envy it displaces. E'en other beauteous damsels find Their charms must follow Grace's. 37 Grace Her form is of exquisite mould, Approaching that of Venus, To have, to love, and to enfold, 'Twere heavenly, between us! That I'm for Grace it is you've learned? Not so, I'd never miss her, In fact, I'm not the least concerned. My choice is Grace's sister! 38 FEELIN' BLUE. Tse feelin' funny, kinda like I'se never felt befo', Doan't kno' jest 'zackly what I wants I shouldn't want fo' mo'. De birds am singin' in de trees, An' sun way up dere, too, Am smilin' an' it seem it sez, "I'se shinin' jest fo' yo'." I keeps on sayin' to myself, "Yo' feels de same inside." But somehow ev'ry time I knows Dat I has up an' lied. Dere's somet'ing in my heart dat woan't Allow dat I feels glad, Somet'ing dere dat keeps a-sayin' "Yo' kno's yo' feelin' sad." Wonder what it am dat allers 'Sists dis yere chile should tote Some kind ob trobble 'round with him T' lump up in his throat. I lubs de whole wi'e worl' an' I Should hab a lot of fren's. But somehow dey am mad an' dey Woan't let me make amen's. 39 METHOD. What if a thing's been said before By six or seven or a score, And echoed by a million more? No words have ever been unwound, But what someone can turn around And make them more inviting sound. Bards win their greater share of fame By saying something just the same, But, "Tell it differently," their aim. They take a subject old and true. And then proceed to cut into Its parts and make it look like new. That Age is Youth, the wise Bard knows, When clad in slightly different clothes, Varietv enchantment throws. 40 POPULATION 750,000. Each paper, book and magazine Has poemed country life, They paint a quiet rural scene. And call it "free from strife;" "Co' Boss, Co' Boss! Gosh ding that hoss ! Gee whiz, but that sounds sweet, I seek the hay where chickens lay Some eggs which I dare eat. How sad that I can't say good-bye To Cabarets and such. When goodness knows, the turnip rows Attract me very much." The sentimental dope they pen Hands out gigantic pains, The Farm's all right, but why should men For this bunk rack their brains: "I still know how to hit the cow For cream with milk on top, And without fail right in the pail, I never spill a drop, I've got a hunch, a Serveself Lunch Is no meal for a Jay, Look, here's my fare to God Knows Where, The engine knows the way!" 41 Population 750,000 Of course, we cannot well prevent This here *'Ahwantabe," Sung by the Back to Nature Gent, But spear this drive from me : — "If I could not absorb a lot Of glamor every night, I'd beg some Gun to just for fun Turn out my Mazda Light. I never fall when crickets call. Grasshoppers aren't the time, The Corn, the Rye, the Beans and I Would never be in rhyme." A'c SURE, YUH MIGHT AS WELL Come, my lyre (if I possess one) — You, at least, belong to me, Let us spoil a poem jointly, Pulse an ode of misery. Tell the people who will listen, Those who show their judgment's bad, Of the things I haven't, which I Sometimes kinda wish I had. Tell them of that automobile. Also speak about that yacht, Those are two things that are handy, Two things that I haven't got. Talk out loud about a villa. Don't forget to mention that Aeroplane I stored last winter Near my handsome stucco flat. I would break you all to pieces, And myself wouldst rush the hearse Should you overlook the money Which runs riot in my purse. Tell them of the beauteous damsel, She who cares exclusively. Tell them all the fibs you care to. Leave out the integrity. 43 Sure, Yuh Might as Well After you've mislaid the other Things I haven't got to date, Don't forget to name, not faintly, What I have at any rate. I have — yes lyre, I command it. Proceed, hit the trail to Rome, I have, with your aid, v^ithout it. Spoilt this may-I-call-it-pome. 44 TO A PARTY LINE PARTY. Last evening I sat in a big leather chair, Dressed up like a star chorus man, Expecting a call, and the telephone there, Convenient and ready at hancT. The call was important, I can't give the name Of with whom I longed so to speak, Suffice it to say Considerable Dame Whom 1 hadn't seen for a week. The hour approached, and prepared to depart— It served but to strengthen desire, I took the receiver with tangoing heart To find what was wrong with the wire. The line was industrious, you were the cause. And nothing important you said, While mentally I ran all over the laws. And broke many things on your head. I pleaded with you in most pitiful tones To give me a chance at the line, And even suggested that Bell Telephones Were meant for such uses as mine. I lost out on my date and hiked off to bed — Was all that I found left to do; Dropped one good engagement, but then in its stead, I managed to make one with you. 45 TO MABEL. (Population 25, on the P. M. R. R., in Whitewater Township.) You're just a little girl, we bet, We have no way of knowing, Nor have we scrutinized you yet To see how you are growing. They say you've one plus twenty-four. To care for and to pet them, The Pere Marquette runs past your door. And that's the way you get them. Sometime when we are down your way, — It's not too forward, is it? — We'll call if it's not washing day, And have a little visit. Wouldst be there to see what we want. To charm us with your patience. Or at some foolish tea dansant Like frails of our acquaintance? Oh, Mabel, we would stake a plow That if we started mashin' You'd blush, and show you still know how To be a bit old-fashioned. 46 TALKING TO CLAUD ROSSMAN. How well do we remember, Claud, Way back in the good ol' days. The Jungle Heaves you used to make On the simplest kind of plays. A little roller toward first base, A man to second running. You'd cast it out where Davy Jones Stood in Left Garden sunning. Oh, Claud, the wallops you tore off Still occupy Fame's hallways, But all those wild ones you threw off Will linger with us always. White Elephants, remember, Claud? Sure, you recall those spike guys, That Bunch ran wild all day on you. And you, well, you threw likewise. That pulsing whip has passed, which had The whole blamed Township peeving, But still we dream and shudder o'er Your aeroplanic heaving. 47 MADE IN AFTERTHOUGHTS. "Things That Never Happen." To "Things That Never Happen" It is only fair to add The vision of a Poet Who admits his Hnes are bad. J. B. T. For "Things That Never Happen" List this one with the bunch : "I follow all the form charts, Yet never claim a hunch." E. C. T. To "Things That Never Happen" Add this foolish crazy quirk : "I'm taking no vacation 'Cause I much prefer to w^ork." A. C. E. To "Things That Never Happen" Attach this mournful strain : "For one straight week, we haven't had A cloud that looked like rain." R. N. E. 48 DARIO RESTA, Like a hypnotic spell, like an Imp loosed from Hell, Like a thunderstorm brewing at night. Like the flash of an eye, whizzing cometlike by As you challenge the swiftness of sight; At the curves for more speed, your demoniac greed Careening on two wheels, the machine Pawing madly the air, all unmindful of care. Riding back of the cyclonic fiiend ; Crouched low down in the seat, cursing madly the heat Of the engine thrown back in your face. Driving straight down the course, your mech- anical horse Snorting wildly, devouring space; With your hand on the wheel, supreme ruler you feel. And damned be the murmurings of Death, Each grim terror delights, each wild fury ex- cites With the passionate rage of Macbeth. 49 Dario Resta Grim destruction at par, skillfully righting the car, With never a slackening of pace. Risking life with a will, yet averting the spill Which would force your machine from the race ; Stopping now for a shoe as another burnt thru By the heat of a brick road of Hell, Cries aloud for a pause, and release from the Jaws Of a speed, reckless, dashing pell-mell ; Shouting, lap after lap, "Defeat's worse than mishap !" The words dying in low, throat-parched sob, Not so much for the purse, as King Pin — fin- ish first. For the cheers of a speed frenzied mob ; To flash first past the line, after long, tearful grind. Lurching forward, and gasping for breath, Like a bolt from the sky, meant to win, not to die In a free-for-all battle with Death. 50 TO A BUM ACTOR. "In consideration of the sale of this ticket, man- agement reserves the right to refuse admission and refund purchase price."— Any Theater Ticket. Often I've perused this passage, "Management reserves the right To refuse — " so on, and so forth, And I realize tonight How it is you put it over, (And my brains for weeks I've racked) You need not present a ticket To get in and stage your act.* *Well, how else explain it 51 A PLEA FOR THE HALF. There's a well-fed longing in my heart for days we used to know, When the game was played for baseball's sake, and not just for the dough. Back to the days when the fever had the play- ers in its grip, When they'd crab to beat the dickens if a team-mate made a slip. Oh, 'twas then a base ball maniac incurred no great expense. He'd rent his seat at first or third for an even fifty cents ! You'll call to mind Kid Elberfeld, and his lack of self restraint, Then Willie Keeler's sage advice to "Hit 'em where they ain't." When your thoughts have turned to Addie Joss, "Wild Bill,'; and Old Cy Young, When the pent up praises for those vets are struggling on your tongue, When you've begged ol' Elmer Flick to gauge the distance to the fence, You'll ask the man for a seat near first, and slip him fifty cents. A wonderful sport, indeed, with which the dough ne'er interferes. And the game has undergone a change with passing of the years. The magnate's eye is on the gate, and the play- er wants his share, 52 A Flea for the Half The fan must get his check book out to accom- modate the pair. I land the wrath of the hectic fan who visibly resents The killing off of the seat by first which sold for fifty cents ! 53 GIVE IT CREDIT! Oh, little lay, you have your say. And also stop when you are thru. Done in four lines, you draw the blinds. There's one in a million like you. 54 WHAT THEY MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN. "John Anderson" — Burns. John Barleycorn, my jo, John, When we were first acquent. Your form stood oot before me, Na matter where I went; But noo in certain States, John, Ye dinna have a show. They've tied the tin can to your tail, John Barleycorn, my jo. John Barleycorn, my jo, John, We clamb the Bar thegither. An' in the bonnie mornin', John, Cam hame wi' ane anither; You're yanked an' yerked in Europe, John, An' noo it's gettin' so The droughty canna get a drap* John Barleycorn, my jo. Except on Sunday. 55 WHAT THEY MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN. "When We Two Parted."— Byron. When we two parted, Thou, gay to the rim, I, broken-hearted, Cried, "Curses on him !" Fat grew thy purse and mine Thinner grew then, I could not well decline. You borrowed ten. The dew of the morning That sunk on my brow, Felt just like the warning Of what is due now I Oh, why hast thou broken Thy vows, dost thou keep That ten as a token Of "shearing the sheep?" They name thee before me, And ever I fear The memory will floor me, Good Lord ! thou wert dear. I'll never forget thee. Nay, never — but then. Much longer, I'll bet thee, I'll think of the ten! 56 IVhat Thev Might Have Written No secret to this ; Aloud do I wail, Just how didst thou miss A period in jail? If I should meet thee, Happy the day ! How should I treat thee? I'd rather not say ! 57 WHAT THEY MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN. *'Frustra" — Shakespeare. Take, O take those lips away, Eden's own alkiring- fruit, Else perhaps a part they play In a breach of promise suit ; Love, my kisses save instead, save instead — Till we two are safely* wed, safely* wed ! 'Well, we won't argue. 58 WHAT THEY MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN. "The Day Is Done."— Longfellow. The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of night, As a Birdman is wafted downward From an aeroplane in its flight. I lamp the lights of the City, The flickering films of the Town, And a frivolous feeling flits o'er me, Like to the pranks of a clown. A feeling I'd call effervescent. As brisk as a morning sprint, That resembles sorrow only As Chicago resembles Flint. Let's go to some Theayter, Some snappy and startling show, Grab off a couple o' tickets In the first or second row. Not a classic performance, Not an exclusive play. Such Highbrow Guff would only Drive animation away. 59 IVhat They Might Have Written For, like dear old Ezry Perkins, With Opry I am p-ained, Fm not sleepy, and this evening I long to be entertained. Let's court some humbler playwright Whose lines at least are hot. Who has his Chorus and Ragtime Instead of a wearisome plot. Who copped last season's wheezes, And used them to prevent The folks from thinking the Tenor A subject of merriment. Such shows have power to hearten A jaded human wreck, And rival the phrase that's sweetest, *'I am inclosing check." Then take me to some Theayter, Where, list'ning to the rags, Fll forget the voice of the singer, Made famous by the wags. And the night shall be filled with ragtime Of a modern musical show. The audience won't be sleeping. And they'll hang out the "S. R. O." WHAT THEY MIGHT HAVE WRITTEN. "Break, Break, Break." — ^Tennyson. Break, break, break, Ease up on thy frantic hug! Or am I mistaken, and isn't Each of these heavies a pug? O well, for the pugilists there, (You can see now my ire's rising up) — O well for the Peaceful Twain That I am not equipped with a Krupp ! And they still go dancing on To the tune of some easy dough ; But O for a glimpse of the vanished Pugs, Who occasionally offered a blow! Break, break, break. And live up to thy fame, O Cork! For the tender one's Battling Delaney, — The other's name is O'Rourke ! n EGOTIST ! I laud thy limpid-liquid eyes, Whose undetermined depth defies Of inner thought, detection. Their brilliant freshness names the lake As being but for likeness sake, I lapse in rapt reflection : Cast in a milky disk repines An outer globe, whose brown declines Description as to shading. Within retires the gentle night, Contrasting strangely with the white. The Dark of Never Fading. I revel in the clean-cut clear. Oh, is it far, or is it near? — The skies above were nearer ! . . . .What's that. . . .1 really must demur, What has this, pray, to do with her? — I'm looking in the mirror! 62 "I TRUST HER IMPLICITLY." I was sorry to learn you were feeling Quite ill, and the interesting- date We had planned for the eve was;w^«a«a,* In other words, destined to wait. But Lydia (I hope it won't peeve you) I'm perplexed and I'm puzzled, although Of course I most fully believe you, — I saw the same show. *He speaks Spanish fluently. CONSEQUENTLY, THIS. **You must sleep with your window wide open, Fresh air is the tonic you need," Coming straight from the family physician. This tip I decided to heed. So tonight I'm awake, and it's open. Admitted, the air's raisinell. For it isn't all natural ozone I'm gettin' some hot air as well. It's apparent apartments below me Have windows ; and whether or not Other doctors decided to raise 'em. Some air that I'm gettin' is hot. **You must sleep with your window wide open" — It's open ; I'm sorting the sheep. Oh, the chains of sweet slumber can't bind me — Hot air ain't conducive to sleep ! 64 A MATTER OF OPINION. You tell me that the rolling stone No moss accumulates, That Fortune smiles on him alone, Who settles down and waits. One fact remains to puzzle me (And you'll admit it's funny) None other than the roaming bee Accumulates the honey . PAR EXCELLENCE. With ease can the Bunch pay attention, When voices worth while are along; But where on our Map is the Jay who can clap When some Cheap Quartette spoils a song? 66 A DUTIFUL CHILD. "Oh, Mother, may I go out to swim? Pray hearken to your daughter, I'll hang my hose on a perfect limb. And won't go near the water! "I know full many a pretty Peach Hath lost her charms by wading In water deep, but safe on the beach, I'll do my promenading. "Many are there who go out to sea. Many the waves are seeking, And right in the swim will daughter be. Figuratively speaking ! "Mother o' Mine," I honor your whim. Your child respects your wishes. The silken hose, and the perfect limb. While bait, are not for fishes !" 67 "BAD OOF— NICE OOF" I know a little lady, who Is positive she's good. I can't convince her that she e'er Does aught but what she should. She's very young, I call her ''Oof," For that, she is to blame. Of course, it's Ruth, but she says, "Oof," And so I say the same. When I believe that she's done wrong, "Bad Oof," I say, and she, So confident of being good, Says, contradicting me, "Nice Oof"— "Bad Oof"— "No, nice," and so It goes, but in a trice — A hug and kiss, and I'm convinced That she is awf'ly nice ! 68 GALL IT UNDERHANDED. I uAvop apisdn JsdEd 9i|; sujn j^ ;99qs-9dop siq; spB9J J3A9oqM ;Bqj^ 'Xauom U9A9 j9Sbav Hc^AV edisup ti nrut ot yzal oot saw I .esol uoY gnidaer era uoy yaw eht ti daer I os nwod .siht C. A. C. (Toronto). 69 WEILMAN. Detroit has dropped eight games to Weilman this Season. With one or two exceptions, games taken from Detroit by St. Louis are credited to this Twirler. — Sport Item. Not that you find yourself besieged By Beasts in a Forest grim, Who, in the night, take great delight In rending you limb from limb ; Not that we'd ask the War to wait Until you had joined the ranks. That you might stop a field-gun crop With nary a Card of Thanks ; Not that we have the least desire To ship you suddenly south To Mexico, where you, we'd know, Were safe in the Old Mar's mouth ; No, none of these, nor yet again That you were to lose the wing Which copped those games, but Pity claims A boon in the sunny spring. Oh, Weilman, Jump ! Jump to the Tiges, You needn't pitch to a man, Jinx to our Bats, Jump, Jump ! and that's The plea of a Tiger Fan ! 70 THE PLAINT OF THE CREDULOUS. I journeyed east to Boston, where they've cop- ped the A. L. flag, My eyes shone with excitement, and my pock- ets bulged with swag, I stalled 'round with the dopesters, and I gave ear to their line, The High Brow ether, groaning, bore slang praises of their nine ! I sauntered up to one, and said, *'Come clean, an' tell me. Bo, Now slip it to me truthfully, whose gonna stage the show?" He looked me over carefully, came like a liv- ing blaze, "Good Lord, man ! Who is bound to win when only one team plays? "This Speaker, Hooper, Lewis and Jack Barry prove the truth. Considerable backing for McNally, Shore and Ruth! Our outfield is some balance, and our infield is a jewel. Our pitchers and our catchers are exceptions to the rule ! 71 The Plaint of the Credulous "Just pawn your ring, your house and lot, and borrow all the tin You can, and then, at any odds, back Carrigan to win, I've heard that Philadelphia, rather than by forfeit yield. Has actually consented that its team shall take the field !" Then I took a train for Philly, expecting there to find A dejected group of mourners, meek, down- cast and resigned ; But when I blew into the town, the bands were full of pep. The streamers were a-flyin' and the rooters all in step. I asked, ''Why do you celebrate, why do you feel so gay? Why all this great exuberance? — you've no chance in the fray. The fans in Boston told me so, they think it is a shame That Quakers should participate in such a brutal orame." 72 The Plaint of the Credulous They shattered this illusion, and without de- lay began To rave of Alexander and the cunning of Moran, Luderub and Cravath, McQuillan, Bryne and Demaree, The prowess of these athletes was cited then to me. And when at last they'd finished, in an aim- less sort of trance, I timidly inquired if they thought Boston had a chance. ''They'll have a chance," I was assured, "and take our little tip, To cheer the winning team and show their brand of sportsmanship !" And, broken then in spirit, with my pockets full of swag, I wouldn't place a wager on the old world ser- ies flag, 'Twere against my grain as sportsman, my being "on the in," For I'd been told both teams would cop, how could I help but win? 73 MEANING MEALS. Fd hate to be a Salesman, Boys, and with the Salesmen stand, 3 Per Diem, sitting down's A conservative demand ! 74 A "JACK'S" PLEA. I've got a good idea of the reason for the piece, A doggone good idea in "Yours truly's" mind at least. I tried to dance the Fox Trot in a prance shop yestereve, Someone coaxed me on to try it, — I said, "I'd just as leave." They started up the music, and gee whiz, it sounded fine, I said, "Hereafter, people. It's fox-trotting 'round for mine. "By the way, fair partner, tell me, what's the name of yon live snack?" She exclaimed, "Why, the Composer calls the piece 'Ballin' the Jack'." I didn't think the name of it was quite appro- priate. Until my legs got tangled and I had to hesi- tate. I kicked and struggled gamely fifteen minutes of that night, 75 A ''Jack's'' Plea Then sighed, "Now listen, maiden, the Com- poser had it right." When you tie yourself in bow-knots, and sometimes four-in-hands, When you have to make your muscles resem- ble rubber bands, When your legs refuse to navigate, you feel you can't get back. You agree it "balls" completely. It's correct, — "Ballin' The Jack." 76 SULPHURING SANDWICHES! Miss Lizzie MacToodle had naught in her noodle, 'Twas Niemand Zu Haus, I've a hunch, She held a ham sandwich, a match, how out- landish, Exclaiming, 'I've got a light lunch !" 77 INCOMPETENT. "But Mr. Jones is now engaged, He cannot see you, sir. Just have a chair, or call again, Whichever you prefer." Then, "Indeed," replied the Salesman, "Mine is a business call. It's getting so men don't attend To business tasks, at all ! What do I care if he's engaged? This ain't no social whirl. Good Lord ! hold up important deals 'Cause Jones has got a girl !" 78 TELLIN' FIBS. Just as soon as supper's over, And Fm seated in my chair, Up you climb, an unarmed rover, Certain of a conquest there. Then it is that I must listen To accounts of exploits great. All of which I know exist in Fancy only; you relate: Of adventures more than frightful, Of your brave and stirring deeds (And I find them so delightful) On the backs of snorting steeds. How you've saved your chosen lady From a sure and awful death At the hands of villains shady, Close the call, I draw my breath. On. my face an ashen palor Steals, and noticing, you pause. Hastily dismissing valor And escapes from Danger's jaws. Artful are you, and thereafter For an hour's space or more You awake and summon laughter In the place of strife and gore. 79 Tellin' Fibs Weaker souls whom you've befriended, Chivalrous and knightly acts, Of the Truths and Rights defended— All of which you tell as facts ; And of course the tales you're telling. Most untruthful are, Your Nibs ; But I find myself rebelling At denouncing them as Fibs. 80 ADAMSHAME. Quoth Adam, "Apples I will cop From yon wide-spreading tree." He pulled the theft, and those he left Disfigure you and me. 81 TO A CHILD. So you want to **grow up," and you're not sat- isfied With playing the part of a boy, Your ambition is fired, and you feel you're de- nied The role you are sure you'd enjoy? Well, it's part of the game, and I'm not much surprised, I'm proud of you, son, in a way; But Tomorrow reveals in a far difif'rent guise The boons we are craving Today. There is not a "Grown Up" on the face of the earth Who wouldn't be glad to exchange His name, his position, in fact, all he is worth For Youth — Yes, I know it seems strange ; But the time is to come when you'll look back and say, "The happiest hours of all Were the ones I was anxious to see pass away That I might no longer be small." 82 SELF RELIANCE. The gentle art of "making up" Cosmetics help a lot, Of paint a smear, and frails appear Attractive when they're not. No artificial aids, howe'er (The Fates are most unkind) Poured from a flask, assume the task Of making up her mind ! 83 THEN LOOK AWAY. Ah, look at me now, at the unkempt hair. At the faded and bleary eyes. Remember, 'twas I, whom women called fair. Whilst heaving their coquettish sighs ! Beauty, none, neither of form nor of face. Departed the charm and the ease. Gone is all spirit, all life, and all grace. And, really, there's nothing to please. Last night but it's past, and with it the Youth Is into Oblivion hurled ! Ah, forget the past ! forget it, forsooth, Last night was the end of the world ! Look at me now ! Grab a hold of a chair. Stand for a shock is my warning. Look at the Dub called Society Bear At 4 o'clock in the morning! 84 "AKIN TO THE FAIR SEX." 'Xet's go for a walk in the garden, Maud," The spectacled student suggested, ''We've no chaperon, to go there alone, Were not quite the thing," she protested. "I promise you, Maud, we shall not require The presence of one whom you know there." ''In that case," said she, "most tiresome, 'twould be, I find I'm not anxious to go there I" 85 DIPLOMACY. It isn't necessary to write notes to Germany To pull that pulsing little trait they call Di- plomacy. You can use it to advantage in private walks of life, It serves to make the "reason why" transpar- ent to the wife. Suppose you come in late and she does not lose sight of it, And furthermore does not intend that you make light of it. Tell her that a traveling man invited you to see The latest thing in ladies' hats, for that's Diplomacy. Another way to show the folks that you're a Diplomat, Is roll the whole four on the ground when Tyrus Cobb's at bat. If you're a Politician, you can easily afford To tell each town you visit that it backs 'em off the board. To turn the gun the other way from you is also wise, A few feet either way, but that's the way a fellow dies. When all is said and done, it is a good idea to Sit down and throw an anchor out when you're in a canoe. 86 Diplomacy If some big Warship sails your way, and you are passing small, Don't yell, "If they are big, then that much harder will they fall." To have a man concede your point, the world has tested it. You merely have to make him think that he suggested it. You'll find it pays to stroke the fur the right way every time, It's human nature, and it's just another way to climb. Don't shoot off guns so much, just Send a Note to Germany, Lose out to win, you'll find it pays to use Diplomacy. 87 FROM "DIPLOMACY." To have a Man concede your point, The World has tested it, You merely have to make him think That he suggested it. 88 ^'DOGGONE, I KNEW IT." Should a good vessel sink, and depart on the blink, And Destiny's Wings are a-flappin' Just as sure as a die, someone's certain to cry, "I knew it was going to happen. I intended to go, little voices said 'No, Don't go, it's a doomed expedition !' Oh, believe me, I'm cured, and you may rest assured, I'm thankful for that premonition." If a pulsing live wire sets a river on fire. Someone with this terrible failing. Will step forward and say, ''I was told, 'Stay away,' Thank Heaven, I didn't go sailing." In every big panic, on every Titanic, And never are there intermissions, Oh, Shades of Morpheus, come hither and free us From Cheap Sports who have premonitions ! TO GIRLS ON APRIL FIRST. You ask why I am anxious to Arrange a little date with you, And why Tonight I fain would go Some place where you can spend my dough. Tonight of all nights why should I Evaporate Mumm's Extra Dry? What prompted me to idly wait Until Tonight for such a date? Full many nights have gone before, In fact. Three Hundred Sixty-four, Appointments? None. Why take the Town Tonight and turn it upside down? Don't I know when of love thou tell'st You're thinking of somebody else? A Fool's not half so bad if he Is acting foolish purposely. Oh, I'm adjacent, never fear That maidens aren't what they appear. I know full well the gentle sex Aren't gentle with those salary checks. "A Fool There Was," I take a dive Once in Three Hundred Sixty-Five I'll pay to watch you quench your thirst, What better night than April First? 90 MISS-TAKEN. A little smile while passing-, A little glance of the eye, To make the world seem brighter. To banish the heartfelt sigh, A word of kindness spoken, With a doffing of the hat. Surely it was praiseworthy, Of course, you'll concede me that; But here's the tooth that was sharpest, Ah, here is the thrust that hurt, I'm off this "making life brighter," — The maiden called me a Flirt ! 91 THE POEMS OF EUGENE FIELD. What is there to do at the hour of noon, When the moments of leisure are few, But to walk the streets, or perhaps to commune With the bards whom we formerly knew? 'Twas the latter I chose, it follows that I To the library shelves then appealed. Of the volumes at hand, what luck to espy, Complete Poems of Ol' Eugene Field ! "Come hither," I said, "And may naught in- tervene The while I am turning your pages. The time that's elapsed since I've listened to 'Gene, Though not very long, seemeth ages !" An hour I sat with the book on my lap, Wliilst Maecenas once more was revealed, Approving the humor, the pep, and the snap Of the Poems of Ol' Eugene Field. "Ah, there was a bard who could knock off a lay, And I would he were with us again. None are there who peddle cheap poems today, Can coax rhymes such as his from a pen !" And such were my thoughts as I sat in that chair. Even now I'm unwilling to yield. That alone was I, in my opinion there Of the Poems of Ol' Eugene Field. 92 The Poems of Eugene Field When time's hanging heavy, and life seems a drag, There's the volume which Brother 'Gene wrote, 'Tis the tailor's iron when the tired spirits sag This book of the Illustrious Pote. Ivong silent the Lyre which so charmingly played. And not yet has the opening healed, No more of that kind will we hear, I'm afraid. Of the poems of Ol' Eugene Field ! ^A "AIN'T GOT NO." You can talk about the errors Which play hob with Mother Tongue, The way we kill poor "shall" and "will" And some others there among. We gayly split infinitives And delight in saying "seen" Our "either or" and "neither nor" Cannot always be serene. "You and me" is another phrase, Which oft haunts the cultured mind ; "Where is he at?" "Sit," "Set," and "Sat," Aren't so very far behind ; But one there is which gets our goat. As it passes to and fro, — "Her," "Him," and "He" aren't one, two, three, When it comes to "Ain't got no." 94 J. HENRY JONES. J. Henry Jones stood looking at A piece of property, And he remarked, "I would that that There plot belonged to me! You couldn't buy it as it stands For fifty thousand bucks, My Grandad could have grabbed those lands Off for a song, but shucks! The old man was afraid, and he Could not good things observe. To think I'd own this property If he had had some nerve. ''I always shall hold this against That Ancestor of mine; But he was shy and cautious, hence, I'm out that grubstake fine. 'Tis one big lesson though, you bet, And in years coming, my Grandchildren cannot say, *He let An A-1 chance go by.' I'll purchase all that land out there. That far off little piece. Away out now in God Knows Where, It's value will increase. 95 J. Henry Jones ''Then when I leave this world behind, It won't be all I'll leave, They'll know that I possessed some mind When they those lands perceive. They'll say, 'The old man was O. K., The late J. Henry Jones, He made us what we are today. Look what the Fam'ly owns !' " J. Henry then grabbed off a chunk Of land out where the geese Wore rubber overshoes, a punk And inexpensive piece. Like all good men, J. Henry Jones At last made room for more, He stood outside* the Safety Zones Like others heretofore. How shall we end the pulsing pome Which deals with J. H. J.? Shalt knock his lot, or have him comb A Golden Claim his way? What think you of the enterprise? — If Jones don't top the list You drive a hearse, and otherwise You are an optimist. *Or ''within" "ACTORS ON A STAGE." Dottie Spotlight was a *Tony" In the two-a-day, Her form and face, and naughty lace, Brought the Johns her way. Always when the show was over, Willies by the score. Heaved their sighs to, turned their eyes to Dottie at the 'Moor." It's no wonder after every "Night" and Matinee, They should ask Dot if she would not Name the happy day. Numbered there amongst her suitors Men of wealth and rank, She, no grafter, wasn't after Money in the bank. 97 "Actors on a Stage'' "Tilted Lady" some aspire to, Dottie Spotlight, tho. Much preferred to be referred to "Girlie in the Show." Bored to death by smirking Willies, Smoking cigarettes, All of them were nothing to her, That "with her regrets." She passed up the rank and money, Tossed her curly head At the loafer, but a Chauffeur Induced her to wed, And she loves the role she's cast in More than any other. Blithe her soul is, for that role is Noble wife and mother. 98 'TWIXT CUP AND LIP. My life were a model of all that is good, My power akin to all things, My wisdom unveil what has ever withstood The efforts of sages and kings ; The knowledge of books of the Universe, too, Were mine with my place in the Sun, If half of the things I am going to do Were things that I really have done. The depth of my character, crystalline, kind. Conforming to Nature in spring. Pervading the fog of the buffeted Blind, The comfort of woman might bring ; But flesh is too frail to accomphsTi it's due. Else I'd find, now my race has been run. Some semblance of virtues my /agarics knew Fulfilled, and my task is well done. And this is the way of the World, so it seems, Enduring for ages untold. The dreamers are many, and many the dreams, But few can conceive and uphold. There's a place at the front, and they're wait- ing for you. The millions awaiting the one. If the things that today you are going to do, Tomorrow, are things you have done. 99 FOOTPRINTS—THAT'S ALL. Lives of Great Bards all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Not a nickel, not a dime ! 100