' ^-t- C°\C^^ °o .,** .'°- ♦ *^ .-» %,^'' .'J ■» o ^^ v^ oV^^^^ill^'- ''^j^ A 5^"-^^. V 0" . ^o '* .# »'l- — Tomorrow but a faded flower. 36 MY CUD OF GUM. I used to hate my dresses, 'Nd used to love my gun ; But nothin' did I love 'nd hate, As I did my cud of s^um. A half a stick would do the girls — Boys needed more to twist ; But when it came to me, I had A cud most like my fist. A resolution every time — The same's the itch I'd rub; I'd swear I'd throw it right away; Still I'd keep that cud. Man}' a time it left it's place. When I'd swear things free; Soon it would be restored again; Dirt was it's gain to me. When I'd go to bed, I then Would take it from my face, Then I'd have to rub my jaw To get that back in place. 37 'Nd then I'd stick it on the wail, 'Nd g^aze at such a load ; 'Nd then I'd have to smile and laugh ; 'Cause it looked like a great green toad, Soon it was all forgotten, But it served it's time to me, 'Nd like the things I used to have, It's but a memor}^. THE GARDENER. A gardener looked upon his crop. And his heart with joy was wrung, For when he looked at each he found A kernel in every one. When the Gardener sees his crop, And the threshing time is done ; Do you think it will thrill his heart to find A kernel in every one? FOR YOU. Be good to others as you maj', Mark well the little dent; That if you don't respect yourself, The}^ won't return the compliment. 38 A DYING COWBOY. Going, going, going, my dear old western home; x\s the sailor loves the sea, I love thee more, Thy mighty plains I cherish ; And I love thy starry heights ; And thy rivers long and broad I did explore. I love to see thy waving fields A glowing in the sun ; The lines of reapers are a 303^ to me, I love the harvest sunshine, And the mighty fields of corn ; Rut I love still more the things that used to be. The prairie wolves that used to howl Their music o'er the plains, The antelopes that live so wild and free, The dark anH roving masses of the timid buffalo No more I'll see them as Ihev used to be. 39 The camp fire's dim and dusky lights Have faded from the plain, The trail is gone where once it use to be ; For the tameless, war-like Indian Is driven from our state ; Thus is the vanished life that use to be. The wild and roving cowboy With his pony and his gun. And buckskin breeches frinr^ed and hanging free, His wide rimmed hat and lariat, He galloped to and fro ; These are things I love that use to be. The travelers of the western soil No more will now be seen, The days of rounding up no more I'll see ; The heart is growing lonely, And my eyes are getting dim ; For I love the good old things that use to be. 40 speed, speed thee on, our sons, Thy changes need they now, Thy mighty schools and churches I implore; They must supplant the free and wild Old life we use to live ; Till the things that use to be are seen no more; But give to me the life of old Upon thy mighty plain, A dream of dear old home sweet home to me ; That I may die in happiness As I have lived of old ; For I fondle most the things that used to be. CHRISTIANITY. Where loads are heavj^ Where hearts are weary. Let's soon arrive. That load to lighten, That face to brighten — That's why we live. 41 TO A SKIN. One night I found a skin Under a rock ; Though searching for the life, I found it not — Leaving it's skin behind, Glad to be free; Into the sunshine went, Beauty to see. Tonight or not tonight, But soon you'll see. When 'neath the cold gray stone. My skin shall be — I will have cast it off, Search not for me ; It will be left behind, And I shall see. 42 WONDERMENT. i^'or months the ceaseless breezes have been blowing, The ground is damp and misty is the day, \]1 nature is in dreariness awaiting, Wondering if it soon will pass away. \nd on, and on, the breezes still are blowing, My heart is damp and misty is the day, Vly life is all in dreariness awaiting. Wondering if it soon will pass away. Phen I heard a murmur in the breezes, Coming as comes music from a fray, 'Though clear your mists into celestial beauty. Your wondering shall never pass away." ::ONSCIENCE'S WHISPERING. Froubled, troubled, troubled. Bless your little youth ; ^^othing but law does take its course, Nothing is true but truth. ['11 blend all doubt to harmonj' ; Hark, I am speaking to you, Mothing takes its course but law. Nothing but truth is true. 43 MY BRIGHT TOED COPPER BOOTS. Say pa, by gee it's gettin' cold, My toes 'nd fingers sting; So pa 'nd me went to the store, To get some mitts 'nd things. We got the mitts, a dandy pair Of yellow wrists 'nd red; But when it came to get the shoes I got some boots instead. They had a wide 'nd heavy heel, 'Nd ears as big as pa's. The leg in front was high 'nd round, 'Nd shinin' copper toes, I hurried home 'nd showed my boots To Mag 'nd Uncle Ned, 'Nd sat up late as ma 'nd pa; Then took 'em up to bed. Next morn in' when I went to school, I let the boys all see ; I was the biggest one of all, Oh how thev envied me. 44 Gee sakes alive, them boots could run All day and never stop, 'Nd walk in water to the ears 'Nd never leak a drop. Then I'd get the jack at night, 'Nd kick 'em in it's jaws, 'Nd set 'em up afore the stove; Along the side of pa's. Then how I'd have to pull 'nd pull, 'Nd kick 'nd squirm about, To get 'em on when mornin' come — Them bright toed copper boots. Then how they'd rub, 'nd rub my heel, 'Nd how my toes would pinch; But that would never hurt at all, Nor never make me flinch. But where they're now I cannot tell. They're like my stilts 'nd coops; But though they're gone, I love 'em still My bright toed copper boots. 45 MIDNIGHT AND MORNING. The embers were dying, the clock had struck, Ere either had died away ; It had gone with the past forever, And yesterday's but a day. It had gone to return, no, never, In the past it had gone to stay ; As we look at today, tomorrow, Todaj^ will be yesterda}'. A smile, a word, an action, A deed, a look, or a lay, Are the things the past keeps count of; When now will be yesterday. What is the value of having done; What is the worth of a day? Don't put it off till tomorrow, Tomorrow for you may not be. The account that you have tomorrow Is the debt you contract toda5^ ; Stock every moment with treasure, Load each ere It passes away. Safely they'll carry them for you. Interest on interest will pay ; Is it business to do things in season r Is it business to do it today ? 46 The height that you get tomorrow, Depends on your climb today ; If you sit and dream till tomorrow, What gave you to yesterday? When the embers of life are dying, And the pulse strikes the ebbing away ; We'll see by the light of tomorrow, Our work of yesterday. THE SIGN. A heathen sighs for the friend that's gone, E'en till his last word's spoken, He's laid away, his friend is sad; And another heart is broken. A christian lives in life through hope, The past is gone — forgotten, Knowing that he may yet rejoice; When but the word is spoken. 47 TO MY SLATE. Of all the things I use to buy, Or all I use to make ; Nothing ever brought the smiles, Like my little broken slate. I'd get my book upon the desk To work a little graft ; But make a picture on my slate, Then I'd sit and laugh, When I'd get up in rank, Peculiar in it's range; Simply touch it up a bit, And laugh to see the change. Turn it round or upside down, Or take a different plane ; Each one was more ridiculous. Change 'em and laugh again. Thus through life we pictures make; Where every line is gain, Filling the air with merriment ; Change them and laugh again. 48 TAKE ME THERE. Take me from this stuffy room, Bundle up and take me soon ; To the world of rhyme and tune — All is fair. Down the meadow, o'er the lea, With the hoppers in the hay ; And the bubbling waters play — Take me there. ^Take me through the orchard's glow, Where the blossoms wave and blow Drifting thither as the snow — Take me where The earth is covered over, A fairy land of clover ; That I may romp and hover — Take me there. Take me in the world of night. As the sunbeams let it light Away the care; Let's wander hither, thither, Through a bower o'er the river; And cares are lost forever — Take me there. Take me back to yesterday ; As a boy I used to play, To a world of sunny day — Take me where, Down the walls of memory ; Back, back, back, unto the tree That died on Calvary — Take me there. Take me into the tomorrow, When I leave this world of sorrow; Credit all I had to borrow — Take me there. Where time is lost forever, And glories shine, shine, ever; And neither have a measure — Take me there. THROUGH THE WINDOW. I hear a v^oice calling: "I'm waiting," I hear the feet swing to and fro; I hear a child answering: "Yes, pa, I'll be there — I'm read}' to go." I'm sitting alone in silence. In dimness the light burns low ; From the stillness I hear a whisper: "Are you through— are you ready to go?" 50 THE SPRING. Wherever I went as the breezes did blow, A barefooted lad in the blossoms of snow, Down on my belly in joy at the spring, I drank of the bubbling crystals within. Then as I raised my head for a rest, I scared from the flowers the bird from her nest ; I'd watch from each .