Class JH3.2>So2l_ 
 
 Book .T^?i'^Q s- 
 
 Ccpiglitlj* \^gk\ 
 
 GQEOUGHT DEPOSm 
 
J. L. BROWN 
 
ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 FROM THE CHAIN OF 
 THOUGHT 
 
 BY JrfDf "BROWN 
 
 Author of 
 
 "BROWN SCRAPS" and 
 
 "SEA OF GLASS MINGLED WITH FIRE" 
 
 PRICE $1.50 
 
 Journal Printing Company 
 
 NEWARK, ARK 
 

 Copyright 1921 
 BY J. L. BROWN 
 Walnut Grove, Arkansas 
 
 DEC -6 i92l 
 
 ©nU654605 
 
 ^# / 
 
A Chain of Thought 
 
 What is a book on which you look 
 
 In pleasure or disdain, 
 
 But links of thought by the writer brought 
 
 From the forge of the thinking brain? 
 
 They may be long, they may be strong, 
 They may be iron, or gold. 
 In message or song — short or long 
 The thought of the thinker they hold. 
 
 How the forge is run, or the link is done 
 No one can truly say; 
 But the mind will think — link by link, 
 The chain is made that way. 
 
 It may be said there's gold and lead. 
 
 Each in the thinker's brain. 
 
 And the metal we use when giving our views 
 
 Makes a dull, or a brilliant chain. 
 
 May He who holds in His hand the gold 
 Give grace to the writer's brain, 
 That the thought he thinks — be pure links 
 In a strong and golden chain. 
 
 May all who look inside this book 
 From it some pleasure gain. 
 May every link help them to think : 
 If so, 'tis not in vain. 
 
ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 WHY I WRITE 
 
 I do not write for fashion. 
 And I do not write for pelf, 
 Or to gratify a passion 
 To glorify myself. 
 
 I write because I want to write 
 To give some soul a thought. 
 My mind for thoughts is fishing 
 So I send the fish Fve caught. 
 
 I do not write for money, 
 No one will pay me cash. 
 Some count my writings funny 
 While others count them trash. 
 
 Some refuse to read them; 
 They estimate them low. 
 Well if they do not need them. 
 They ought to let them go. 
 
 While others who have tasted. 
 Have eaten with delight; 
 They count the time not wasted 
 When they read the things I write. 
 
 'Tor folks have different taste, you know," 
 Said he who kissed the cow. 
 This may be true with me or you 
 So I'll write anyhow. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 
 
 The seeds of thought I scatter 
 Like the hand that soweth grain, 
 Must fall on minds of batter — ? 
 Or on sober thinking brain. 
 
 -i^ '■ 
 
 THE BIRTH OF DAY 
 
 The shadows hung so deep so eool ; 
 
 The shadows of the night. 
 No croaking frog disturbed the pool, 
 
 No songbird sped in flight. 
 It seemed the breeze among the trees, 
 
 Had fallen fast asleep. 
 The wind's loud roar was heard no more. 
 
 The stillness was so deep. 
 
 A distant star shone from afar, 
 
 Along the Eastern w^ay. 
 Angel of night, with torch of light 
 
 To meet the king of day. 
 Then came the hoot of the feathered owl. 
 
 From the swamp tree far away. 
 Then came the crow of barn yard fowl, 
 
 And the watch dog's distant bay. 
 
 The next is heard twitter of bird 
 
 Amid the forest trees. 
 That move and shake and seem to wake 
 
 The one time sleeping breeze. 
 
8 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 That starts off slow to blow, and blow 
 
 'Cross forest, field and lake. 
 It breathes its song to all along 
 
 That all may hear and wake. 
 
 The whippoorwill calls from the hill, 
 
 Ihe fog shows in the glen. 
 The crow of cock, the strike of clock. 
 
 Calls out to sleeping men. 
 Beneath the star that fades afar 
 
 There spreads a field of gray. 
 Chili goes the night, still comes the light — 
 
 There's born another day. 
 
 GIVE ME A COUNTRY HOME 
 
 Give me a place by the country side 
 
 Where the woods are green, and the fields are 
 
 wide, 
 Where 'he sun and shade play seek and hide 
 As they skip across the plain. 
 Where the deep blue skies with star-lit dome 
 LiJce a bow of promise arch the home. 
 While the wind tossed clouds drift and roam 
 Like air ships sifting rain. 
 
 Where hills and mountains cast their shade 
 Across tlie forest, fields, and glade. 
 And I he river runs like a silver braid 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 9 
 
 To bind them all in one. 
 Wnere forest trees in garments green, 
 Shelter the road that runs between, 
 On which the wandering herds are seen 
 When the sultry day is done. 
 
 Give me the house with wooden wall 
 With broad cool porch and spacious hall. 
 With vine-clad trees that shadow all 
 From heat of summer sun, 
 Where the creeping vine climbs up to cling 
 To the drooping limbs that sweep and swing 
 In which the wild birds build and sing 
 Till summer days are done. 
 
 SPRING 
 
 Oh come to us spring. 
 We are waiting for you, 
 We wish for the thing 
 We know you will do, 
 We long for your sun and your showers. 
 
 Oh, take away frost, 
 And give us night dew, 
 Take the gray skies, 
 And give us bright blue 
 And brighten the earth with your flowers. 
 
10 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Let south winds flutter, 
 Through forest and glade, 
 Let wild brooks sputter 
 Through sunshine and shade 
 As they dance on their march to the sea. 
 
 Let nature wake up 
 After sleepng so long, 
 With her bright buttercup 
 And a blue bird's sweet song 
 And the hum and the buzz of the bee. 
 
 f^ 
 
 THE FIELD OF LIFE 
 
 Life is a field with such a soil 
 
 That naught it yields without the toil 
 
 Of brain, of heart, of hand; 
 And he who fails this law to heed 
 Will live to know, and feel his need, 
 He'll find but thistle, thorn or weed. 
 
 Will grow upon his land. 
 For He who made the field hath said 
 In sweat of face we eat our bread. 
 
 And man hath found it <,o, 
 
 Man breaks the soil and sows the seed, 
 That Nature's sun and rain must feed, 
 For Nature knows the things they need 
 To make them live and grow. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 11 
 
 God works with man and man with God, 
 On sea, or air, or turf ted sod. 
 
 In nature and in grace; 
 Man plows the soil and sows the seed, 
 God gives the sun and rain to feed, 
 So each one thus supplies a need — 
 
 Each working in his place. 
 
 So God has given man a mind 
 
 With which to think, to know, to find. 
 
 The thing that's wrong or true. 
 Man may select the seed to sow. 
 To grow the crop he wants to grow — 
 A crop of weal or one of woe — 
 
 The rest will Nature do. 
 With Summer heat and Winter snow, 
 The years so fleet will come and go. 
 
 Till all shall see the throne. 
 God on the throne as white as snow. 
 With open book, will read, and show. 
 Then every living soul shall know 
 
 They reap what they have sown. 
 Stop now, my brother, where you stand, 
 Look at the seed now in your hand — 
 
 Please look before you sow — 
 If they are bad, cast them away. 
 Wait not until that bitter day 
 When He upon the throne will say: 
 
 "You now must reap your woe.'' 
 
12 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 FATE OR GOD 
 
 Do mortals know, or is it so, 
 That life's a plan fixed on a chart, 
 And that a hand wrote out the plan 
 Long ages 'fore this world did start, 
 That every thought and word and deed 
 Is but a cog within this wheel, 
 And do we learn that it must turn 
 To make us think, or act, or feel. 
 
 Is that great wheel — the wheel of fate, 
 That turns in heaven, earth and hell; 
 Must men and angels on it wait, 
 And demons move beneath it's spell? 
 Is there in this great universe, 
 A living force, a moving power, 
 To help one dodge a coming curse, 
 Or grasp a blessing in his hour? 
 
 If there's no intervening power, 
 
 Then each must bide his time to start 
 
 As wise or fool, to fill the rule 
 
 As stated for him. on the chart. 
 
 Man is then but a helpless worm. 
 
 Helpless to walk, to run, or fly. 
 
 To whom fate gives the right to squirm, 
 
 To live, to suffer, and to die. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 13 
 
 Without a way to change his day, ' 
 Control his action, or his state. 
 And though he may desire or pray. 
 He'll find no listening ears on fate; 
 Each man, and beast, and bud, and bloom 
 Must rise, or fall, at fate's decree. 
 And from the cradle to the tomb 
 There is no freedom— none are free. 
 
 Oh take away this thought from me, — 
 There is a God, and he is just; 
 Fate has no iron bound decree. 
 Tis God, not fate, in whom we trust ; 
 He watches all in earth and sky: 
 He notes each sparrow in its fall. 
 He hears His children when they cry, 
 And sheds His mercy over all. 
 
 Then do not talk of dark decrees. 
 That life is planned and manned by such; 
 Such doctrine might some devil please, 
 To help him hold his fiendish clutch 
 On some poor, lost, benighted soul 
 That worships at the shrine of fate 
 And blindly misses life's true goal 
 Until he cries, too late ! too late ! ! 
 
14 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 BEAUTY 
 
 We can divine, if not define 
 
 The spirit form of beauty. 
 
 WeVe seen and felt the magic powers 
 
 That's kept and swept us thru the hours; 
 
 ^ur homage is but duty. 
 A queen she reigns o'er sea and plain, 
 Her steps are everywhere ; 
 The bending heaven swings her form, 
 
 The laughing earth sings of her charm, 
 ^hat echoes far and near. 
 The sunbeams hold her threads of gold. 
 Her silver slippers tread the sea, 
 
 While moonbeams glimmer with the light 
 And dance upon the fields of night 
 Jn fancy full and free. 
 Beauty we find in soul arid mind. 
 
 Well as in things material ; 
 Soul beauty is the spirit's charm, 
 Mind beauty is the thoughts that swarm ; 
 Such beauty is etherial. 
 
 Though Beauty's birth was not on earth 
 She to the earth was given ; 
 Shimmering on angel wing 
 Quivering in songs they sing, 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 15 
 
 She fills the courts of heaven. 
 Her many forms here pass away, 
 Sweet forms that brought us gladness; — _ 
 So soon they fade and fall in death, 
 
 Like summer's flowers 'neath winter's 
 
 breath 
 To leave the soul in sadness. 
 There is a world where Beauty's charm 
 
 Is forever given ; 
 
 Where flowers bloom without decay, 
 And those we love pass not away — 
 Beauty lasts in Heaven. 
 
 W 
 
 THE MAN UP A TREE 
 
 Text— Luke 19 :4. "And he ran before and 
 climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him for 
 he was to pass that way.'' 
 
 Come now, dear friends, and list' to me 
 About this man who climbed this tree. 
 Things in his life we ought to know — 
 These are the things we want to show: 
 What was his name and what his station, 
 What was his life, his occupation, 
 What did he think, what did he do. 
 And was he false, or was he true? 
 
16 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Zaccheus was this small man's name, 
 For this we don't know who's to blame ; 
 'Twas doubtless given by his mother, 
 Father, sister, aunt or brother. 
 
 It is the man and not the name 
 
 That counts for something in life's game. 
 
 A name's a worthless thing, you know, 
 
 Unless the owner makes it so. 
 
 A wise man's name put on a fool 
 
 Is like a horsehide on a mule; 
 
 And though you you shear his mane away. 
 
 It will not change his brain nor bray ; 
 
 And though the horsehide be his choice, 
 
 The folks will know him by his voice. 
 
 And so a rose is just the same 
 
 If called by any other name. 
 
 Though names are things of which some brag 
 
 Yet they but serve us as a tag. 
 
 Fixed on each one when life doth start 
 
 So that we may be known apart. 
 
 Your name differs from your brother, 
 
 So we know you from each other. 
 
 History would be as dark as myth 
 
 If everybody's name was Smith. 
 
 The tag is on so many fixed 
 
 We sometimes now do get them mixed. 
 
 A Smith lives in every town — ? 
 
 Somewhere close to Jones or Brown. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 17 
 
 ril tell you if you never knew 
 That Zaccheus was a Jew; 
 You do not wonder then when told 
 That this man made a lot of gold, 
 For making money is no new 
 Characteristic of the Jew. 
 For Abraham, a Jew of old, 
 Had his servants, flocks, and gold; 
 And Jacob knew to make and keep 
 And beat old Laban out of sheep ; 
 These old cunning tricks now had he 
 When he beat his old blind daddy. 
 
 But he learned them of his mother 
 When she helped him cheat his brother. 
 And even now some Jews we meet 
 Who seem inclined to want to cheat. 
 AVe need not think because we've been 
 With some slick Jew and lost our skin 
 That every Jew we chance to meet 
 Is born a liar and a cheat. 
 Everyone is not that way 
 For we find honest Jews today: 
 Isaac, Jacob, Nath and Ben 
 Oft we find are honest men. 
 
 Zacchaes was one of the band 
 Who gathered taxes in that land. 
 And that office more than others 
 
18 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Made Jews hated by their brothers; 
 For in wrath a Jew would wax 
 The reason why, you understr-nd, 
 It helped support the Roman band. 
 They could not keep their cash at home, 
 They had to send a part to Rome. 
 The Jews all thought (and sometimes true) 
 The Publican the meanest Jew. 
 
 Because he helped the king of Rome 
 To rob and plunder Jews at home ; 
 They shunned him at each feast or dinner, 
 And ranked him with a Gentile sinner. 
 No wonder then they all did whine 
 When Christ went home with one to dine ; 
 They thought for teachers 'twas a sin 
 To mix or mingle with them then. 
 I tell you this that you may know 
 How Zacchaeus lived at Jerico. 
 And though this Jew was in this role. 
 As man he knew he had a soul, 
 
 A soul to live in hell or heaven, 
 
 A soul with sins to be forgiven. 
 
 No doubt he'd read in God's own word, 
 
 And in its teachings he had heard 
 
 Of a coming great Messiah, 
 
 As fuller's soap, refiner's fire, 
 
 To purge his people from their sin 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 19 
 
 And make man pure and clean again, 
 That he would take the sightless ball 
 And let the light into it fall, 
 And thus remove the bands of night 
 And give the blind man back his sight; 
 
 That he would touch the deaf man's ear 
 And that the touch would make him hear ; 
 And to the lame that self same touch 
 Would make him throw aside his crutch; 
 That he would bless the starving poor, 
 And break aw^ay the prison door, 
 And break the fetter and the chain 
 And set the prisoner free again ; 
 He'd make the clouds drop down their rain, 
 To water mountains, hill, and plain; 
 Where hateful thorn and briars show 
 He'd make the fir and myrtle grow; 
 
 That death itself subdued must stand 
 And yield its power to his hand, 
 When the still heart and lifeless brain 
 Y/ould throb with love and thought again. 
 So when he heard of Jesus' name, 
 And of his power and his fame. 
 The story of his wondrous birth, 
 When angels sang their songs to earth, 
 And the wise men from afar. 
 Led to him by the mystic star 
 
20 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 That hung and spread its silver light 
 Across the azure fields of night. 
 
 How into the sea he drove the swine, 
 
 And turned cold water into wine; 
 
 Of how he m ade the leper clean, 
 
 And demons cast from Magdaline ; 
 
 Of how he made the lame to walk, 
 
 And gave the dumb a tongue to talk, 
 
 And spake into the deaf, dead ear 
 
 And gave it power his word to hear ; 
 
 From madness made a mortal free, 
 
 And calmed the tempest on the sea, 
 
 And to a weeping soul in Nain 
 
 Gave back her boy in life again. .;/ 
 
 No doubt this Jew forgot his gold . •, 
 
 When this good news to him was told ; 
 
 His soul within him burned as fire, \ 
 
 Surely this is the true Messiah, 
 
 For everything he does, I note, " ^ 
 
 Are things of which the prophets wrote; 
 
 No man can do such work this hour 
 
 Unless our God supplies the power. 
 
 This day he comes to Jerico, 
 
 I'll see him for myself and know. 
 
 Great multitudes that day went out 
 
 To see the Master on his route; 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 21 
 
 Some went to buy, some went to sell, 
 Some went to cry, some went to yell, 
 While some went out to see and hear, 
 While many went without a care ; 
 Some doubltess went to Jerico 
 Because their neighbors did, you know; 
 Some folks have such dull minds, it's so 
 They gather nothing where they go. 
 But Zacchaeus had a mind 
 With which he did true knowledge find. 
 So with the multitude he went, 
 Upon this glorious purpose bent 
 
 That he the sum of truth might find 
 To ease his heart and please his mind. 
 This small, rich Jew (and perhaps proud) 
 Was just a mortal in this crowd 
 Which crowded porch and street and lane, 
 A view of Jesus to obtain. 
 As he in stature was so small 
 He could not see the Lord at all. 
 Some would push and some would shove him, 
 Each one stood a head above him ; 
 Disappointment he would meet 
 If he remained down in the street. 
 
 But he never sulled or pouted. 
 Neither was his purpose routed. 
 The truth was then just as today, 
 
22 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 When will's with men they find a way. 
 He had the will the Lord to see, 
 He found the way was climb a tree; 
 And so he ran along before 
 And climbed up in a sycamore. 
 Perhaps this little Jew felt proud 
 While seated up above the crowd. 
 Some might have laughed in fun or scorn 
 
 To see him run and climb that morn ; 
 They may have called out, ''See, oh see, 
 There goes Zacchaeus up a tree, 
 Watch him climb with all his riches. 
 Give him time, he'll tear his breeches; 
 When they are torn he will look funny, 
 But he'll soon mend them with our money; 
 What careth he to tear his clothes. 
 Our taxes paid for them he knows." 
 But cared he naught for words of scorn 
 If he could see the Lord that morn. 
 He saw the Lord, the Lord saw him. 
 
 While he perhaps sat on a limb ; 
 The Lord while standing on the ground 
 Gave him the word to hasten down. 
 This commandment did not grieve him, 
 For the Lord did thus receive him. 
 There his heart gave up its sadness. 
 There his soul was filled with gladness; 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 23 
 
 Gold was dross and honor clay 
 Since salvation came that day; 
 He no longer seeks to roam, 
 Christ, the Lord is in his home, 
 Ruling out all greed and strife. 
 
 Filling it with seeds of life — 
 
 Seeds that into action shoot. 
 
 Showing their nature in their fruit. 
 
 For this son of Abraham 
 
 Had salvation, not a sham. 
 
 Had salvation that could talk. 
 
 Had salvation that could walk; 
 
 He^s a selfish Jew no more. 
 
 But ready now to help the poor ; 
 
 He^ll give the tenth and five times more. 
 
 Half his goods he'll give the poor. 
 
 Now you men who said he stole. 
 
 Walk ye up and get four fold. 
 Get your dollars, get your cost. 
 Four for every one you lost; 
 If you don't then it's implied 
 When you said he stole you lied ; 
 If you did, then, don't you see, 
 You're a meaner man than he; 
 For the world holds the belief 
 A liar's meaner than a thief. 
 
24 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Look, oh look upon this Jew, 
 Hear him tell what he will do: 
 If a thief, he's one no more. 
 
 Now he's honest to the core. 
 Salvation did to him impart 
 A generous and an honest heart ; 
 And men who now salvation claim 
 Are called upon to show the same ; 
 And he who claims the same without it 
 Gives the folks a chance to doubt it. 
 Now, my friends, I say to you, 
 I commend this little Jew; 
 Many things in him we see 
 That are good for you and me ; 
 You, like him should seek to be 
 
 (Though you need not climb a tree) 
 Have a mind and will that's true. 
 Do the things you need to do. 
 Seek the Lord with heart and n ind. 
 Seek him till the Lord you find ; 
 Listen ^o his word — his voice, 
 Let his purpose be your choice ,- 
 Take him to your heart, your home, 
 Let the world know he has come; 
 Help the world as best you can. 
 Be a generous, honest man. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 25 
 
 THEY 
 
 She learned to play her music, 
 She learned to sweetly sing; 
 But about housekeeping, 
 She never learned a thing. 
 
 She married her a caddy 
 That she caught upon her hook, 
 They lived with his old daddy 
 And his mother had to cook. 
 
 The old one tired of cooking. 
 At last put in her say. 
 These young folks so good looking, 
 Had to fix and move away. 
 
 And now she plays her music, 
 And it makes her husband cry; 
 Not when he hears her music. 
 But when he eats her pie ; 
 
 Which has but little inwards 
 But a burned and ragged crust. 
 Which swells his indigestion 
 And makes him nearly "bust." 
 
 The Devil is always ready to help a man into 
 trouble, but never to help him out. 
 
26 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 EQUINOX 
 
 The sun has slept behind the cloud, 
 The cold sprino- rain is falling, 
 The rooster crows but not so loud ; 
 The winter calf is bawling. 
 
 We think of yesterday so warm 
 The day so bright and sunny, 
 And how old nature drops her charm ; 
 This change is not so funny ; 
 
 For spring with flowers in her gown 
 Will dance around us lightly, 
 Then old winter with a frown 
 Will grip and hug us tightly. 
 
 The bird will have to stop her song 
 The cow stay oif the clover, 
 For some cold days will hop along 
 Till Equinox is over. 
 
 —March 22, 1921. 
 
 .||. 
 
 FEBRUARY 
 
 January, j'-ou must go 
 
 With your winter wind and snow. 
 
 February, like a queen, 
 
 Comes along and slips between 
 
 Winter's freeze and snow and mud, 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 27 
 
 Springtime's breeze and glow and bud, 
 Winter's frost and fog and gloom, 
 Springtime's song of frog and bloom ; 
 So of this month it may be said, 
 It's 'twixt the living and the .dead. 
 It is to us the time of year 
 That sounds the resurrection near. 
 
 APtllL 
 
 You come to see us, yes you do. 
 
 About this time I think each year. 
 
 Your nights are warm, your skies are blue, 
 You smile a smile — then weep a tear. 
 
 Life is made brighter by the smile 
 And also better by the tear; 
 
 You'll leave us in a little while. 
 And stay away another year. 
 
 The tears you shed will not be dead. 
 
 The smiles you gave will not be wasted 
 
 Your tears will stay to freshen May, 
 
 Your smiles in summer fruit be tasted. 
 
 Where the Bible says. Beware of dogs, it 
 means two-legged — not four legged ones. 
 
28 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE POWER OF THOUGHTS 
 IN WORDS 
 
 A word spoken in due season ; how good it is. 
 —Proverbs 15:23. 
 
 The Lord hath given me the tongue of the 
 learned that I should know how to speak a 
 word in season to him that is weary. — Isaiah 
 50:4. 
 
 A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in 
 pictures of silver. — Proverbs 25:11. 
 
 A wholesome tongue is a tree of life. — Pro- 
 verbs 15 :4. 
 
 A word is a cage — from age to age. 
 
 To bear the soul of a thought; 
 And a writer's pen in the hands of men 
 
 Is used when the cage is wrought. 
 
 The thinker may die, the pen may lie 
 
 In silence and in rust, 
 But the thought of brain will still remain 
 
 When the brain has gone to dust. 
 
 As your thoughts endure, let your words be 
 pure, 
 
 That carry your thoughts along. 
 Carve out by pen a message to men 
 
 That will make them happy and strong. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 29 
 
 WE HOPE 
 
 That demon war whose hellish spears 
 That have been bathed in blood and tears 
 Will cease to gleam mid light of sun 
 In hand of Ally or of Hun._ 
 
 That earth shall hear no never more 
 The black month cannon's deadly roar 
 That helps the ranks of dead to swell 
 With its death dealing bursting shell. 
 
 God send the husband back to wife, 
 And save the fathers, spare their life 
 And give the mother back her son; 
 And let this wasting war be done. 
 
 —A. D. 1918. 
 
 ■W- 
 
 THAT FRIEND OF MINE 
 
 In old time days we stood as friends 
 
 From week to week; 
 But now his ways around mine bends. 
 
 He will not speak. 
 
 I write him oft, he answers not 
 
 By word or sign ; 
 It seems that me he has forgot, 
 
 This friend of mine. 
 
30 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 You ask me why he treats me so? 
 
 I answer then : 
 He came to me six months ago, 
 
 I lent him ten ; 
 
 And now he scorns me day by day, 
 
 And goes along, 
 All just because I want my pay; 
 
 Now is that wrong? 
 
 There are some folks we never know. 
 Though oft we've met. 
 
 Until said folks shall chance to owe 
 To us a debt. 
 
 ■W- 
 
 MAY 
 
 This beautiful day belongs to May, 
 
 And May is a part of Spring; 
 
 And Spring is the time when nature sublime 
 
 Is a wondrous beautiful thing. 
 
 Her garments are new — 'neath her sky so blue, 
 
 Her forest wears robes of green ; 
 
 Her song birds sing — to the goddess of Spring; 
 
 Her lakes are a silver sheen — 
 
 The touch of her power — doth open the flower 
 
 With the kiss of the morning sun 
 
 Her song birds sing where wild vines cling. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 31 
 
 And the mountain rivulets run. 
 
 She sweetly sings of wonderful things, 
 
 And there is joy in her tune 
 
 That charms with delight — The shadows of 
 
 night 
 That dance 'neath the silver moon, 
 
 There is joy in the sky that reaches so high, 
 
 As it smiles through the stars of light. 
 
 There is joy and glee on the deep blue sea 
 
 That sings in the winds of night 
 
 There is joy and light on the mountain high, 
 
 AS me Clouds creep o'er its breast; 
 
 There is joy mid the trees, in the twilight 
 
 breeze 
 That blows from the golden west. 
 
 There is joy and mirth in the spirit of earth 
 
 That sings through the night and day; 
 
 She ever will sing to the goddess of Spring, 
 
 And her beautiful daughter May. 
 
 Let us join today with the spirit of May; 
 
 Let us never be gloomy and sad. 
 
 Let us drink in the power of sunbeam and 
 
 flower, 
 To make us laugh and be glad. 
 
 —May 1920. 
 
32 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 SIXTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY 
 
 December 7, 1916 
 
 Old Father Time who walks about 
 With sickle on his shoulder, 
 
 Who tells the folks when years run out 
 That they are one year older, 
 
 Has come this winter day to me 
 Though it is warm and sunny, 
 
 And tells me I am sixty-three — 
 
 It seems more strange than funny. 
 
 Sixty-three brief years have fled, — 
 
 The thought is most appalling, — 
 Since I a tiny babe in bed 
 
 Lay kicking and a squalling. 
 And now Fm sixty-three years young, 
 
 As bright and warm as June, Sir, 
 That's the way I want it sung. 
 
 And don't you change the tune. Sir. 
 
 Vm sorter sad and sorter glad. 
 
 That I can count that number ; 
 Life has its smiles, for little whiles 
 
 Between the clouds that somber; 
 We lose and gain, about the same 
 
 Of happiness, and sorrow; 
 We see the light in every night. 
 
 In hope of a coming tomorrow. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 33 
 
 Our riches most, consist of friends, 
 
 The best of riches given, 
 We'll leave a group when life shall end 
 
 And meet a group in heaven. 
 If I could tread life's trail again, 
 
 I don't believe Fd tread it. 
 To think about it's grief and pain, 
 
 Would rather make me dread it. 
 
 Most of my battles have been fought, 
 
 I've sinned and I've repented. 
 If I'm not thankful — sure I ought 
 
 To be — and be contented ; 
 I'll make the most of what I have. 
 
 In hours of life's declining. 
 For autumn has its golden-rods, 
 
 And twilight stars that's shining. 
 
 And so the autumn of life's year 
 
 May boast its golden flowers, 
 And stars of gladness may appear 
 
 To light life's evening hours. 
 So thank the Lord for sweet old age. 
 
 With pleasures undiminished , 
 May life's book have a bright clean page 
 
 Clear on until it's finished. 
 
 iQ 
 
 If you are living too fast, stop the clock. 
 
34 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 BIRTHDAY GIFT 
 
 The morn that I was sixty-three, 
 My daughter gave a gift to me, 
 A gift on which I like to look, 
 A good, a clean, a funny book. 
 She knew the kind of book to get: 
 She got me one that "Riley writ." 
 
 We both were born in fifty-three. 
 
 He is two months older though, than me, 
 
 We never met nor knew each other, 
 
 Yet he seems to me a brother ; 
 
 He's passed away — I am here yet. 
 
 To read the lines that "Riley writ." 
 
 Though cold and silent with the dead. 
 His loving words by men are read; 
 Such was the power of his pen 
 Through which he sent his thoughts to men 
 Such brlliant thoughts they won't forget, 
 Those brilliant thoughts that "Riley writ." 
 
 His was the gift, to say the best. 
 
 To make men laugh, to help them rest, 
 
 To put a smile upon their lip. 
 
 To give their hand a firmer grip; 
 
 Strength, fun and courage, all may get 
 
 Out the things Jim "Riley writ."' 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 35 
 
 He had a way of saying things, 
 
 That gave each word poetic wings, 
 He'd take a worm before v ;ur eye 
 And charm it to a butterfly; 
 These are the visions that we get 
 Within the lines that "Riley writ/' 
 
 He turns dull lead to shining gold, 
 He plucks the spring from winter's cold 
 And takes the man who old has been, 
 And makes of him a child again ; 
 Such is the wisdom and the wit 
 Displayed in lines that ''Riley writ." 
 
 While he was Jiving on this earth. 
 While he was giving love, and mirth, 
 Perhaps he never once did know. 
 Or thought how far his works will go ; 
 Or how much good the world will get 
 Out of the lines Jim "Riley writ." 
 
 If you are feeling sad and blue, 
 And don't know what to think, or do. 
 Get for yourself a brand new book, 
 And when you get it, on it look: 
 You ask of me what book to get? 
 'Y, get you one "Jim Riley writ." 
 
86 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 WHY? 
 
 Why weep because the night is dark, 
 Or present day is full of gloom 
 
 Why weep because some pleasant dream 
 Lies buried In the silent tomb 
 
 For darkness must give place to light 
 
 And sunshine take the place of gloom. 
 
 And other hopes must spring as bright 
 As any buried in the tomb. 
 
 Why nurse the sorrows of the past? 
 
 Why flood the soul with by-gone grief? 
 Such things will but the present blast 
 
 And to the soul bring no relief. 
 
 The tongue of nature sings a song, 
 If we in patience will but hear ; 
 
 Receive it and you may grow strong, 
 To cherish hope and banish fear. 
 
 The frost of autumn fades the leaf 
 
 From life of green to death of brown ; 
 
 The winds of winter howl in grief 
 
 And sweep the withered dead leaves 
 down; 
 
 And yet the tree doth lift no cry, 
 Though every branch is cold and bare, 
 But waits for spring with sunny sky 
 To spread her beauty everywhere. 
 
 m 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 37 
 
 The coming leaf will be as green, 
 The summer day will be as bright 
 
 As the dead leaf was ever seen, 
 
 As the past day now robed in night. 
 
 The past has gone, forever gone, 
 
 O'er the same you need not sorrow; 
 
 Hope and duty cries go on, 
 
 God holds for you a bright tomorrow . 
 
 ■^■ 
 
 OUR COUNTRY'S MISSION 
 
 Our country 'tis of thee, 
 Land of the brave and free, 
 God has a work for thee 
 To dare to do. 
 
 It's not to build a throne 
 For kings to reign alone 
 In a despotic zone. 
 O'er all in view. 
 
 It's not to sit and hold 
 A wealth of horded gold, 
 Callous with greed ; 
 
 It's not to build up fame 
 Or boast about our name, 
 Play deaf to halt and maim 
 That cry in need. 
 
88 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 It's not to rack our brains 
 With thought of lengthened reigns, 
 O'er men in slavery's chains, 
 Men used as tools; 
 
 So that our flag may wave 
 O'er freedom's dusty grave, 
 Where none will dare to brave, 
 Our tyrant's rules. 
 
 Such things are out of date 
 For Nation, or for State, 
 Our land has heard of late, 
 The higher call. 
 
 To build, and not destroy, 
 Not perish but give joy. 
 And thus our strength employ. 
 In helping all. 
 
 Our mission is to stand 
 Torch bearers in each land, 
 So all may understand. 
 We are their friend; 
 
 To hear them when they plead. 
 To help them in their need, 
 A friend that's one indeed, 
 Unto the end. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 39 
 
 Give strength unto the weak, 
 Turn not from them who seek, 
 But kindly to them speak, 
 And act in love ; 
 
 For kindness has a power. 
 That gains in every hour, 
 That lives through sun and shower 
 A power that moves. 
 
 Where logic has no show, 
 Where reason cannot flow, 
 And arguments can't show 
 A thing is right; 
 
 Kindness can find a place 
 In modesty and grace. 
 She runs and wins the race 
 And gains the fight. 
 
 The human body holds 
 Within its dusty mould 
 A God-like, deathless soul 
 With a desire , 
 
 The future to explore. 
 To find some Eden sshore, 
 \Vhere death can come no more, 
 When flesh expires. 
 
40 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Our mission is to go, 
 The truth, the life, to show 
 That all may hear and know 
 The Bible way. 
 
 Give all, the Bible light. 
 To drive away the night. 
 And make their pathway bright 
 To perfect day. 
 
 Give them example too, 
 Of what the book will do 
 For those who hold it true. 
 By living right; 
 
 Help them to fight each foe 
 That gives them pain or woe, 
 And live a life to show 
 You are a light. 
 
 A light in God's own hand. 
 To shine at his command, 
 To bless, not curse, the land 
 Where men abide. 
 
 God— Father of us all- 
 Doth love the great — the small, 
 And to each one doth call 
 
 Through Christ, who died. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 41 
 
 Let us that call obey, 
 And walk in wisdom's way, 
 And let us daily pray, 
 ^Thy will be done," 
 
 Till strife shall be no more. 
 Till hate and war are o'or, 
 And nations on each shore 
 Shall stand as one. 
 
 ■#• 
 
 PATIEINCE. II PETER 1:6 
 
 Patience is a needed grace 
 To help us run the Christian race. 
 Patience to sow, and not to reap — 
 Patience to work while others sleep; 
 Patience to suffer pain, and loss; 
 Patience to bear a heavy cross ; 
 Patience to work 'mid sun and rain — 
 To work and lose, then work again ; 
 Patience with the flesh's thorn. 
 Patience to suffer the scoffer's scorn ; 
 Patience to work, to wait, to run. 
 And 'mid it cry "thy will be done." 
 
 . p 
 
 The body, not the soul, stoops down under 
 the weight of years. 
 
42 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 V ACTION 
 
 Why cast the furrow across the mead 
 Unless you sow the frutfui seed? 
 Why cast the seed in furrows deep 
 Unless you aim some day to reap? 
 
 (Why gather thoughts from books or school 
 Then turn away and act the fool ? 
 If wisdom's lamp you wish to burn 
 Then seek to act the things you learn. 
 None can reap unless they sow 
 None can do unless they know. 
 
 p .. — 
 
 SCIENCE— TRUE AND FALSE 
 
 (Dan. 1:4; I Tim. 6:20.) 
 
 Science means — not learn but know, 
 Not to search out — but to show 
 Reason, nature, facts, to prove 
 Why things rest, or why they move. 
 
 Science is the lamp that burns, 
 Giving light to him who learns, 
 Showing both effect and cause 
 As they follow nature's laws. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 43 
 
 Science creates nothing new, 
 Only shines that we may view, 
 And so viewing understand 
 The laws of nature in command. 
 
 Science serves both God and man, 
 The last to know, to understand, 
 How God standing as first cause. 
 Rules through nature by his laws. 
 
 False science is a cold foxfire, 
 A fool, a phantom and a liar. 
 When a God it doth disown. 
 Crowning Law upon his throne. 
 
 Saying there is naught behind it. 
 Saying there is naught to bind it. 
 Law the only God they find, 
 Moving matter, forming mind. 
 
 The very presence of these laws 
 Shows the need of such a cause ; 
 Laws of men, and laws of nature. 
 Each must have a legislature. 
 
 In each law we truly find 
 To do a work it was designed. 
 Wisdom planned their work and station. 
 Power moved their operation. 
 
44 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Matter, dead, or cold, and still 
 Has no power, thought or will. 
 Therefore cannot be the cause 
 That created nature's laws. 
 
 In nature's every law we find 
 
 The plan, the purpose of a mind. 
 
 The flowers that bloom, the stars that 
 
 shine. 
 Proclaim their maker as divine. 
 
 True science is a noble thing, 
 A servant that doth knowledge bring, 
 Nature's angel with her light. 
 Showing nature's treasurers bright. 
 
 Let false science say its say. 
 Boast its knowledge, flaunt its way, 
 Claim its college, or its school, 
 lU teachings brand it, but a fool. 
 
 ■II- 
 
 Each cloud has its silver lining 
 Each star has its place of shining 
 Each dog has his time of whining 
 Each soul has its hour of pining. 
 
 II 
 
 Since it is hot, have you forgot 
 How you did scold when it was cold? 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 45 
 
 DON'T ACT THE FOOL 
 
 As a rule a man's a fool to cuss the weath- 
 er when it's cool — then to fume and rack his 
 brain, just because there comes a rain. 
 
 To go around and whine and fret, 
 Just because the ground is wet. 
 Then to simper and to sigh 
 When the weather turns off dry, 
 Then to roll and loose his sleep, 
 Because some things are selling cheap, 
 Then to buck, and cuss, and cry, 
 'Cause other things are selling high. 
 
 Buckng through the night and day, 
 "Cause he cannot have his way. 
 Listen now to what I say: 
 None but fools \vill act that way. 
 So if you will save your wit, 
 Think awhile and learn to quit. 
 Don't act the babe — be a man 
 Quit your whining while yau can. 
 
 .^^. 
 
 Lie and the devil will agree with you. 
 Get drunk and he will spree with you. 
 Assist the devil, he will be with you, 
 Resist him, he will flee from you. 
 
46 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE INCUBATOR 
 
 My wife has got a patent hen 
 That's settin' for a hatchin* — 
 
 The wooden sort that's made by men, 
 Without the cluck or scratchin'. 
 
 They say the one she has is good 
 For summer or for winter. 
 
 If her feathers you would pull 
 You'd have to pull a splinter. 
 
 While the thing is made af wood 
 
 And is .> money saver, 
 I hope her offsprings will be good — 
 
 You can call them chick or shaver. 
 
 -II- 
 
 THE BLIND MEN'S ELEPHANT 
 
 Five blind men lived long years ago. 
 And all went out to see a show, 
 For one thing they were intent. 
 That was to see the Elephant. 
 
 Their fingers — not their eyes — must feast 
 To learn about this wondrous beast. 
 They wished to know, they wished to see 
 The kind of thing that it might be. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 47 
 
 The first one caught him by the ear, 
 And felt of it with anxious care, 
 ni tell you, for I know I can. 
 The Elephant is like a fan. 
 
 The next one felt along his side, 
 A thing he found, both high and wide, 
 List here, said he, both one and all, 
 The Elephant is like a wall. 
 
 One felt his leg from foot to knee. 
 And then he said you must agree 
 That well I know and well I see. 
 The elephant is like a tree. 
 
 Another to his snout did go. 
 And said without a doubt you know, 
 ril tell the folks wherever I go 
 He^s like a bugle that we blow. 
 
 The last one felt until he found 
 The tail hanging to the ground ; 
 He said, Get out with all your dope, 
 The Elephant is like a rope. 
 
 Now each one felt he knew the best. 
 And so contented with the rest; 
 The part he felt was only small, 
 He found a PART and thought it ALL. 
 
48 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 And out of this there grew a strife, 
 Which lasted through their natural life; 
 Each one believed that he was right, 
 Each one was honest in the fight. 
 
 Each from his viewpoint got his thought, 
 For which he argued and he fought; 
 Each had convictions deep and strong, 
 That made him judge all others wrong. 
 
 So oft in life this thing is true, 
 
 Men oftimes get a partial view% 
 
 But for such views will stand and fight. 
 
 And claim they know that they are right. 
 
 And though their views are weak and small. 
 They thnk it's true, they know it all. 
 They know it all in their own mind. 
 To ALL of truth they are stone blind. 
 
 Die deep for truth that you may find 
 The same, and fix it in your mind, 
 And from the same do not depart. 
 But hold it in your hand and heart. 
 
 Don't be so sure that you are right. 
 That you'll get mad and want to fight, 
 .Each one thai you may chance ^o see 
 Who with you does not agree. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 49 
 
 THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE 
 
 It has been said that ''We creep into child- 
 hood, bound into youth, sober into manhood 
 and totter into old age." 
 
 Stage One 
 
 We creep into childhood days 
 Where the morning sunlight glows. 
 Where the south wmd softly blows, 
 Ahere the springtime violet grows; 
 There we weep and sleep and dream. 
 There we creep and peep and scream, 
 There love's smiles upon us beam ; 
 There we start and stop and balk, 
 There we stammer, then we talk, 
 There we creep and crawl and walk, 
 As we sweep through childhood days. 
 
 Stage Two 
 
 We bound into youthful days. 
 Grapes of joy hang on life's vine. 
 Ripening in the warm sunshine, 
 Holding juice of sweetest wine ; 
 Wine to cure, but not to kill. 
 Wine to make the life blood thrill, 
 Wine of joy the soul to fill ; 
 Making it both glad and strong, 
 
50 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Sending out its glad sweet song, 
 
 Cheering earth the whole day long, 
 
 With bounding praise through youthful days, 
 
 Stage Three 
 
 We sober into manhood days, 
 Floating down life's winding stream, 
 Waking from youth's fitful dream. 
 Life is not what it did seem; 
 Life appears a complex thing. 
 Like a bee with sweet and sting. 
 Good and evil it doth bring; 
 Pleasures found soon pass away, 
 Hopes oft perish in a day, 
 Things denied, for which we pray, 
 Through such dark ways come sober days. 
 
 Stage Four 
 
 We totter into old age 1 
 
 After the fall and crawl and creep. 
 
 After the grapes of youth we reap. 
 
 After the waking from the sleep, 
 
 After childhood's flower is dead. 
 
 After youthful hopes have sped, 
 
 After manhood's strength has fled, 
 
 We totter to the stage of old age. 
 
 Then like a child again we creep. 
 
 Into the room where shadows sweep, "' 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 51 
 
 Into the room where loved ones sleep, 
 Into the room where all the blest 
 From toil and sorrow sweetly rest, 
 Into the room they call the tomb. 
 We finish up our page, 
 We finish out our age, 
 And totter from the stage 
 Into the room they call the tomb. 
 
 II 
 
 FUSSY 
 
 Once there was a little boy 
 
 Very fond of rackets, 
 So he picked a fuss one day 
 
 With some yellow- jackets. 
 Thrashing their nest on the ground. 
 The thrashing raised ther ire. 
 
 They set the boy afire — 
 It hurt when — he — sat down. 
 Men there be who meet with us 
 
 That seem to glory in a fuss ; 
 They growl, and kick, and fret. 
 
 If folks but had a jacket's wing 
 And could use a jacket's sting 
 
 To fix them where they set. 
 
 If you want to start perpetual motion, give 
 your note drawing interest. 
 
52 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 ARKANSAS 
 
 Dear Arkansas, the best old State 
 Now numbered with the Forty-eight. 
 Of all the stars on field of blue, 
 I love your's best, I know I do. 
 
 I love your mountains grand and high 
 That crown their peaks with mist of sky; 
 I love your valleys, fields and glades 
 That sleep within the mountain shades ; 
 
 I love your rivers, cool and deep, 
 That onward to the ocean sweep 
 With bending willows green and low. 
 That fringe them in their onward flow. 
 
 I love your forests, where are seen 
 Your armies clad in coats of green. 
 Not ranks of men — but ranks of trees, 
 Whose leafy banners catch the breeze. 
 
 I love your sunshine and your showers. 
 Your golden fruits and blooming flowers, 
 Your fields spread out on hill and plain 
 With orchards green and golden grain. 
 
 I love your forest with its trees 
 Its singing birds and buzzing bees, 
 Your shades of night and beams of day 
 That on your bosom dance and play. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 53 
 
 I love your manners and your rules, 
 I love your churches and your schools, 
 Regardless of their creed or law, 
 I love the folks of Arkansas. 
 
 I love them for the homes they make, 
 I love them for their goodness sake. 
 I do not love, but almost hate, 
 The man that does not love our State. 
 
 SUPERSTITION 
 
 Never hang a horse-shoe in your room nor 
 nail one on your door-step unless you wish to 
 advertise your own folly. 
 
 A rabbit's foot 
 From a graveyard took. 
 And over the grave 
 Of a dead man shook, 
 May fill some timid 
 Souls with fright 
 And make them dream 
 Bad dreams at night. 
 
 If I had to be a dog like a dog that howls, 
 rd rather be a barking dog than to be a 
 dop- that oTowls. 
 
54 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 PURE IN HEART 
 
 ''Blessed are the pure in heart for they 
 shall see God." So will other folks, but they 
 will not see Him as the pure hearted man sees 
 Him. For to him 'The heavens declare His 
 glory, the firmament showeth His handi-work. 
 Day unto day uttereth speech ; night unto night 
 showeth knowledge." 
 
 The broad, broad sky, so blue, so high. 
 That hangs across the fields of space ; 
 The earth below where forests grow, 
 The earth below where rivers flow. 
 The sky above, the earth below. 
 Combine to show their Maker's gi^ace 
 His power. His presence ever nigh. 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 History is a grave that's made 
 In which the cold dead past is laid. 
 We read and thus roll back the door 
 And look upon the corpse once more, 
 Now cold and still. 
 
 Some seem so eager for the sight 
 They gaze upon it with delight. 
 Around this grave they like to stand 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 55 
 
 And hold in theirs this cold dead hand, 
 And feel its chill; 
 
 But history I do seldom read 
 Unless I wish to pluck a seed 
 Out of this tomb — 
 
 A seed of truth, to plant, to grow. 
 That men today may see, may know, 
 Its fruit and bloom. 
 
 ^ 
 
 LIFE 
 
 Life is like a milk cow, _ 
 
 White, speckled, red or dun. 
 
 That folks can milk for pleasure, 
 For profit or for fun. 
 
 The man who makes the best of life. 
 
 In action, or in dream, 
 Can spread his cake with butter 
 
 And smack his lips on cream. 
 
 But he who scorns the hand of fate 
 
 And kicks against its power. 
 In act or dream will find no cream, 
 But all his milk turned sour. 
 
 II 
 
 Some folks can drink more joy out of a 
 pint cup than others can out of a gallon bucket. 
 
56 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 POETS 
 
 ^Toets are traditionally supposed to dine 
 on air and sup on moonshine/' 
 
 Air for food has always been 
 Too light — too belchy, and almost too thin, 
 Though lips be placed to a moonlight cup, 
 There's no good taste in a moonlight sup 
 Such things may do to feast one's head, 
 But the stomach calls for meat and bread. 
 
 II- 
 
 THE END OF THE YEAR 
 
 Old mother earth has made her run 
 And circled once again the sun. 
 And in her rolling, rapid flight. 
 Has filled a year with day and night. 
 
 Days of winter etched in frost. 
 Snow flakes by the wild winds tossed. 
 Trees in forests bleak and bare, 
 Brown earth frozen everywhere. 
 
 Days of spring with bloom clad trees. 
 Home of birds, and feast of bees. 
 Hills and valleys dressed in green, 
 Where laughing brooklets skip between. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 57 
 
 Summer days with golden hours, 
 Fields of corn, and summer showers, 
 Rambling herds with tinkling bells 
 Feeding in the grassy dells. 
 
 Autumn days with crimson leaf, 
 Ripened fruit and garnered sheaf, 
 Summer crickets singing low 
 'Neath the sunset's purple glow. 
 
 WIT 
 
 What is this thing the world calls wit, 
 That sometimes stings a little bit. 
 And yet the sting is only half. 
 For oft the stung one has to laugh, 
 
 When he surveys the place it hit 
 And se^s the wisdom of the fit. 
 Wit is to wisdom but her darts 
 That from the bow of humor starts, 
 
 That a lodging place doth find 
 Within the corresponding mind. 
 That a ripling laugh doth start 
 On thp lips from out the heart. 
 
 p 
 
 Don't borrow your neighbor's head unless 
 yours is too green to use. 
 
58 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE GOODY GOODY MAN 
 
 Hit me with a snowball, beat me on the back, 
 Talk about my kinsfolks till your face is black, 
 Drench me on rye coffee, feed me on wheat 
 
 bran. 
 But for goodness save me from the goody 
 
 goody man. 
 
 SMILE 
 
 Day time is just as cheap as night, 
 4nd smiles are just as cheap as tears. 
 
 Then let your life be full of light 
 To bless you through the fleeting years ; 
 
 Don't cry nor sigh because it's cold. 
 Don't muss nor cuss because its hot. 
 
 Thank God for blessings that you hold. 
 And the others "covet not." 
 
 Some have a way 
 
 Like the month of May, 
 
 To smile on the world as they go, 
 
 While others are like 
 
 The month of March 
 
 For they blow— they blow, and they blow 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 59 
 
 DECEMBER 
 
 December is here, it may be said 
 The time is near when the year is dead, 
 Like a withered leaf, to fall to rot 
 While coming days will know it not 
 Save by the pen on the printed page, 
 That tells of men in our present age. 
 Only a few will have the fame 
 To cause the writer to write his name. 
 But unto all a chance is given. 
 To write their name in the book of heaven, 
 Where years die not in the passing age. 
 And nonets forgot on the golden page. 
 Why cast a sigh, at the flight of time 
 That moves us on to the world sublime, 
 Where morning lasts through endless day 
 And life and love pass not away? 
 
 Each Life Holds Within Itself 
 
 A thought that brings a tinge of sorrow, 
 A hope that grasps a bright tomorrow ; 
 Each soul has its weight of sadness, 
 Each soul has its light of gladness, 
 Each soul stumbles oft in blindness. 
 Each soul needs its word of kindness. 
 
60 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 BIRTH DAY GIFTS 
 
 On the 7th of December, 
 
 I will be sixty-six. 
 
 If you're going to give me something, 
 
 You had better send it quick. 
 
 Don't send me holy water, 
 Don't send me any flu. 
 Don't send me soxs 
 With holes in them, 
 Unless you send the shoe. 
 
 If you send me roses. 
 Please keep back the thorns. 
 If you send your feet to me. 
 Please don't send your corns. 
 
 Send me not your troubles, 
 Either cold or hot, 
 I do not want to mix them 
 With the sort I've got. 
 
 Send me bits of sunshine. 
 Not bigger than a calf. 
 Send me your good wishes 
 And that will make me laugh. 
 
 Egotism is like a fiest dog: it will bark, 
 though by so doing it advertises its own little- 
 ness. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 61 
 
 TALENTS 
 
 Everything in the world was made for a 
 purpose and is fitted by nature to fill a place 
 and do a work — an ox can pull a plow, a bee 
 can gather honey — a cat can catch a rat and 
 a hen can build a nest. 
 
 An ox may do his best 
 But he cannot build a nest, 
 A bee may build its house 
 But it cannot catch a mouse. 
 
 And a cat would look so funny 
 To try to gather honey, 
 And a hen you may avow 
 Never, never pulled a plow. 
 
 W 
 
 TIMERS NEW YEAR GIFT 
 
 Old Father Time, the Reaper, 
 That walks through endless space, 
 
 With sickle on his shoulder 
 And wrinkles on his face. 
 
 That measurers off duration 
 Into days and months and years ; 
 
 That's traveled since creation 
 Down the vale of smiles and tears. 
 
62 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 His tracks come down through ages, 
 'Mid their shadows and their dust 
 
 Before the ancient sages 
 Built a tomb( or carved a bust. 
 
 He rocked old Egypt's cradle 
 On the banks of ancient Nile 
 
 And watched the Burmese mother 
 Feed the hungry crocodile. 
 
 He was present when the Caesars 
 Built their Kingdom and their throne, 
 
 And when the men of China 
 Built their ancient wall of stone. 
 
 He walked with Eve and Adam 
 
 Before they nursed a son ; 
 In fact this world has had him 
 
 Ever since it was begun. 
 
 And he will be with us 
 
 Upon this mundane shore, 
 Until the Judgment Angel 
 
 Swears time shall be no more. 
 
 The morning Star gives warning 
 
 From Eastern sky so clear, 
 That He's opened the gates of morning 
 
 To cfive us "this New Year/* 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 63 
 
 Let us take the gift he flings us, 
 ' And be thankful as we should ; 
 Let us take the gift he brings us 
 And fill it up with good. 
 
 HOME 
 
 Some pictures hanging on the wall, 
 Some music sounding through the hall, 
 Some books to read in silent hours, 
 Some climbing vines and blooming flowers. 
 Give home life a charm of power 
 That reaches one and all. 
 
 THE OLD TATTLER 
 
 There was an old woman 
 That lived in two shoes, 
 
 That made it her business 
 To scatter the news; 
 
 She'd visit the Jones', 
 The Smiths, and the Browns, 
 
 She knev/ everybody 
 In country and towns ; 
 You could mention no subject 
 But what she would know 
 
 All things about it, 
 
64 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 And she'd tell you so ; 
 From trapping of panthers 
 
 To killing of flies ; 
 From building of railroads 
 
 To baking of pies, 
 She could tell about ghosts 
 
 With their thumping and knocking, 
 As they slambed open doors 
 
 And set chairs to rocking. 
 She could tell about planting. 
 
 When late or when soon, 
 When to plant in the ground. 
 
 And when in the moon ; 
 And how John Sandy 
 
 Filled his big barn. 
 By watching the moon 
 
 When he planted his corn; 
 To make a cucumber, melon or beet, 
 
 Plant to signs in the arms but not in the 
 feet. 
 She could tell you the winter 
 
 When snow was the deepest. 
 She could tell you the year 
 
 When eggs were the cheapest; 
 She could tell you when Brooks 
 
 Made his big crop of corn. 
 And when Fannie Snooks* 
 
 Oldest baby was born. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 65 
 
 And when Sammy Simpkins 
 
 Bought his red cow, 
 And old Mrs. Hawkins 
 Lost her old sow; 
 And when Jack Johnson 
 
 Moved in and moved out, ^ . ; , 
 
 And old Billy Jenkins 
 
 Died with the gout; 
 When young Dickey Jones 
 
 Set traps for the weasels, 
 And his sister Annie 
 
 Broke out with the measles. 
 And on money matters 
 
 She, too, was quite knowing. 
 And oft she would chatter 
 
 About neighbors owing (Prov. 19:7) 
 Who held the mortgage 
 
 And who held the deed. 
 Who has a plenty 
 
 And who is in need; 
 She knew every scandal (Prov. 12:18) 
 
 That floated around ; 
 The truth of the matter 
 
 Of course she had found. 
 Her nose was so long. 
 Of course, you could smell it; 
 And she would tell you 
 
 If you wouldn^t tell it (Prov. 11:13) 
 
66 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Some folks you'd think 
 
 Both honest and true, 
 She'd say with a wink, 
 
 She'd found wouldn't do ; 
 Some husbands were "bears," 
 Some women were "cats," 
 She'd been in their homes 
 
 And heard them have spats ; 
 And many young ladies 
 
 That virtue doth claim, 
 Her tongue it could ruin 
 
 If she'd give their name (Prov. 18:8) 
 This talky old woman 
 
 Would sit by your fire, 
 Such a comfort as this 
 
 You could not deny her; 
 She'd sleep in your bed 
 
 And feast at your table, 
 And then she would borrow 
 
 A horse from your stable, 
 On which she would ride 
 
 Either one mile or two 
 To visit your neighbor 
 
 And talk about you ; 
 For there's an old proverb 
 
 On a thing that's well known, 
 "A dog that will bring 
 
 Will carry a bone,'- 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 67 
 
 This talky old dame, 
 
 Full of lies and cusses, 
 Played oft at the game 
 
 Of stirring up fusses. 
 Her tongue like the devil, 
 
 Was loaded with fire, 
 In which she would revel. 
 
 For she was a liar. 
 A person that tattles 
 
 To tell a lie, 
 Will make them themselves 
 
 To keep a supply. 
 One should scorn gossip. 
 
 From all who may bring it, 
 If they sing a lie, 
 
 Don't you learn to sing it; 
 If they bring a lie 
 
 In December or June, 
 You let it go by. 
 
 Don't make it a tune. 
 Just peddle the truth 
 
 When you peddle the news; 
 Don't act the old woman 
 
 That lived in two shoes. 
 Now I will close 
 
 My last bit of news 
 About this old woman 
 
 That walked in two shoes. 
 
68 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 You may count it good 
 
 And eagerly grab it, 
 When I say what I should 
 
 That she quit her old habit: 
 For sure a day came 
 
 When she never lied ; 
 That was the same 
 
 Day after she died; 
 The neighborhood read 
 
 About her decease, 
 And somebody said, 
 
 *T guess we'll have peace." — Proverbs. 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 y'X'9, 
 -U- 
 
 WEIGHTS AND WINGS 
 
 The world has weights, 
 
 And the world has wings | 
 
 And you my friends ' ; | 
 
 Are one of these things. 1§ 
 
 A wing lifts up ^ 
 
 And helps one fly, f 
 
 A weight pulls down '§ 
 
 If one should try. 1 
 
 You are a wing of blessing ^ 
 
 Or a weight of curse; H 
 
 You make the world better ^■ 
 
 Or you make it worse. ..^ ^iiw*^ 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 69 
 
 A NEW LAW 
 
 There ought to be a law prohibiting young 
 men marrying until they are worth one hun- 
 dred dollars above their debts. Why? 
 
 1. Because they don't need to start house- 
 keeping on the pauper list. 
 
 2. A man that can't save one hundred dol- 
 lars above hs own living has no use for a wife. 
 
 3. Folks will marry (at least they always 
 have) ; such a law would cause young men to 
 put their money in a savings bank instead of 
 investing it in cigarettes, negro minstrels, red 
 neckties and booze. 
 
 4. It would cause them to cut out idleness, 
 and extravagance and other bad habits, and 
 beget within them the spirit of industry, so- 
 briety and economy: three things they need to 
 use all through their lives. 
 
 Some things are not true to name, 
 Though the name such things may utter. 
 Milk weeds never give us milk, 
 No butterfly gives butter. 
 
70 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE TWILIGHT HOUR 
 
 After the sun has sunk to rest 
 With purple clouds in the golden west 
 And one by one the stars of light 
 Trim their lamps on the field of night, 
 And the southland sends its evening breeze 
 To play on the harps of the forest trees 
 That join in song with the mountain rill 
 And the distant notes of the whippoorwill, 
 The soul is filled and thrilled with power 
 That it only feels in the twilight hour. 
 
 OCTOBER'S MIDDLE 
 
 The year's glad march 
 So fast has sped 
 That nine full months 
 Have from us fled 
 
 And bright October 
 'Neath the sky 
 Has half her army 
 Marched on by. 
 
 She decks the meadows 
 With her dew 
 And paints the forests 
 Purple hue. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 71 
 
 She gives the moon 
 A silver veil 
 To drop at night. 
 O'er hill and dale 
 
 Indian summer's 
 Smoky blue 
 Lends enchantment 
 To the view. 
 
 Her sun at eve 
 
 Sinks in the west 
 Mid gold and purple 
 Clouds to rest. 
 
 •Il- 
 
 OUR UNCLE SAM 
 
 Our Uncle Sam's a good old man, 
 As good as good can be, 
 
 If you do not sink his ships 
 Nor block his open sea; 
 
 But if you do, look out for him. 
 For when that work is done 
 
 He'll fly, or float, or walk, or swim 
 To hunt you with his gun. 
 
72 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The Huns may drive old Russia back, 
 And of the same may brag ; 
 
 But they will never make a track 
 Beneath our Uncle's flag. 
 
 If they ever make a track, 
 
 Now listen what I say: 
 Their toes will be found running back 
 
 With their heels this way. 
 
 ON THE PICTURE OF ROBERT 
 BROWNING 
 
 I looked on the face of Browning 
 
 With eyes cast down; 
 I see no cloud of frowning, 
 
 No trace of frown ; 
 When nature did her crowning, 
 
 Peace was his crown. 
 That shows upon each feature 
 
 In lines of light, 
 That marks this noble creature 
 
 With mind so bright, 
 A bard, a noble teacher. 
 
 To teach the right. 
 His forehead like a temple 
 
 With lofty dome, 
 Where mental troops assemble 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 73 
 
 And fancies roam, 
 
 Where golden sunbeams tremble 
 
 In magic's home. 
 A crop of ringlets growing — 
 
 His temples crown, 
 Where silver threads are showing 
 
 Among the brown. 
 With shield of beard soft flowing 
 
 In beauty down. 
 His face a mold of fineness 
 
 By nature wrought, 
 Each feature holds a kindness 
 
 In which is caught 
 A look of noble mindedness 
 
 And pure thought. 
 Where there is strength and beauty 
 
 Of soul and mind. 
 It seems that nature's duty 
 
 Is but to find 
 And shape a mortal temple, 
 
 The same in kind. 
 There is a link that's binding 
 
 The soul to clay, 
 The same we oft are finding 
 
 In nature's play: 
 The two in one combining, 
 
 Together stay. 
 The eagle with the piercing eye 
 
74 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Has strength of wing 
 To lift it upward to the sky 
 
 Where it may sing: 
 Take these away, it soon would die, 
 
 A feeble thing. 
 When soul from body moves away, 
 
 The body must 
 Fall as a temple in decay, 
 Fall back to dust: 
 It's filled its mission in its day 
 
 Of nature's trust. 
 
 ■p. 
 
 AUTUMN 
 
 Old summer time in heat did climb , 
 
 And August seemed as hot as embers, 
 
 She passed on by beneath the sky 
 
 That looks so blue in all Septembers. 
 
 Chrysanthemums hold their blooms of gold 
 And at the stars through mists are peeping 
 
 The astor nods to golden rods. 
 
 The ivy on the ground is creeping. 
 
 The cjuaiFs shrill cry comes through the rye, 
 
 As to its mate it's calling ; 
 The summer flower has lost its power. 
 
 Its dead leaves now are falling. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 75 
 
 The bii^ds of spring that once did sing, 
 Now fail to show their feather 
 
 They shut their mouth and fly down south ( 
 In dread of colder weather. 
 
 The autumn breeze sings 'mong the trees, 
 Where purple leaves now quiver. 
 
 The willow's tinge of beauty fringe, 
 The banks of lake and river. 
 
 The pumpkin vine that once did twine 
 Around the green corn growing. 
 
 Now near the sheaf shades with its leaf 
 Its fruit of gold now showing. 
 
 In early morn like hunters horn, 
 The pale new moon is gleaming, 
 
 We see its light through shades of night, 
 Like silver threads down streaming. 
 
 It seems an angel at the loom, 
 
 Each night with brilliant story, 
 
 Her shuttle flies to scatter gloom, 
 And weave a web of glory. 
 
 The angel nature talks of God, 
 
 And bids us love — not fear him 
 
 And though we walk beneath the rod 
 Each step doth bring us near him. 
 
76 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 He weaves a sermon in each leaf 
 
 A song in every flower 
 He gives us hope to heal our grief 
 
 And faith to give us power. 
 
 That we may tread life's narrow vale 
 And feast upon its beauty 
 
 And seek in every hill and dale 
 To know and do our duty. 
 
 In shades of night when beams of light 
 
 From nature's lamps are given 
 I feel a calm that says I am 
 
 Close to the gates of heaven. 
 
 ■T^. 
 
 OLD WINTER 
 
 Despite our hope, despite our fear, 
 You make your rounds to us each year, 
 Old winter. 
 
 You whistle when the north wind blows, 
 Your mantle is the drifting snows. 
 Old winter. 
 
 Your clouds are dull and leaden gray, 
 That shut from view the sun of day, 
 Old winter. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 77 
 
 You walk amid the forest trees 
 That shake and shiver in your breeze, 
 Old winter. 
 
 You push the sun down to the South 
 And breathe the frost from out your mouth, 
 Old winter. 
 
 You freeze the rivers in their flow 
 And paint the mountains white with snow. 
 Old winter. 
 
 You cover shrub, and rock and grass. 
 And raise the price of coal and gas, 
 Old winter. 
 
 Youx" days are short, your nights are long. 
 Your breath is thin, but cold and strong, 
 Old winter. 
 
 Some day you'll leave vnth cold and mud 
 And give a place for flower and bud. 
 Old winter. 
 
 While you are here we'll not be mad, 
 But when you go we will be glad. 
 Old cold winter. 
 
 
 The way to have a jolly good itme is take 
 one wtih you. 
 
78 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 LUCK 
 
 Is there such a thing as luck, 
 Good and bad as people call it? 
 Does Fate descend like Fairy Gods 
 To make our happiness or spoil it? 
 
 Luck who art thou, a master great 
 With spoon to feed, or club to maul us? 
 Must we submit to thy mandate 
 And answer thee when thou do'st call us ? 
 
 Have you a light to lead us right 
 Or clouds of darkness to blind us, 
 The right alone to give a throne 
 Or with a felon's chain to bind us? 
 
 There is no luck, or power of chance. 
 To teach the same is but to fool us. 
 There is a blessed providence, 
 A God above our life to rule us. 
 
 Then give to Him your hand and heart 
 And walk the way that He is showing. 
 As guide from you He'll not depart. 
 But lead you where you should be going. 
 
 He may not give the things you ask ; 
 He knoweth best what should be given, 
 Though hard and bitter be your task 
 Why mui^mer when it ends in Heaven? 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 79 
 
 AT SIXTY-FOUR 
 
 I used to think in younger days 
 
 That old age had no charm; 
 Fve reached the stage they call old age, 
 
 I find it bright and warm. 
 
 The morning sun its course has run, 
 Also the noon with heated strife, 
 
 The evening breeze through nut-brown trees 
 Blows in its calm to sweeten life. 
 
 The shadows lengthen round our feet. 
 Harbinger of approaching night. 
 
 In which new visions we shall greet 
 In dome of blue, with stars of light. 
 
 For He who lives in love to give 
 Knows what to give that^s best; 
 
 He gives us life with toil and strife. 
 And after that gives us rest. 
 
 —December 7, 1917. 
 
 -Il- 
 
 Such ugly tempers some folks have got, 
 They nurse the thing to keep it hot, 
 But sure it is a better rule 
 To turn it loose— and let it cool, 
 
80 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 LET HIM GO 
 
 When all agree, the honey tree 
 Drops down its sweets for all — 
 
 But when we see men disagree 
 That honey turns to gall. 
 
 When the black sin of strife begins, 
 The Devil rules the day. 
 
 When peace prevails he tucks his tail 
 And quickly moves away. 
 
 DIFFERENT TASTES 
 
 The humming-bird doth seek the flower 
 To get its sweets you know ; 
 
 The patridge seeks the golden grain 
 That in the fields doth grow; 
 
 The buzzard is a big brown bird. 
 
 Beneath the sky so blue — 
 The thing he seeks of course youVe heard, 
 
 I need not tell it to you. 
 
 Men, like birds, have different tastes. 
 And seek for different things ; 
 
 Some seek the honey-dew of love 
 That in life's flower springs; 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 81 
 
 Some seek the golden grain of truth 
 That in life's field doth grow; 
 
 Some seek for pleasure, some for power, 
 For health or wealth you know; 
 
 While some are like the big brown bird, 
 
 They act like him I tell 
 They have no taste for grain or flower, 
 
 They glory in a smell. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON THANKSGIVING 
 
 This day of thanksgiving 
 
 Finds us thankful for a rest. 
 
 Thankful we are hving 
 
 And thankful we are blest; 
 
 The the fighting Hun 
 
 Has quit the field of battle ; 
 
 His saber and his gun 
 
 Have ceased to shoot or rattle. 
 
 No more the German eagle flies 
 Upon her wings of kultur; 
 
 The nations round her cries, 
 
 "She's but a bloody vulture." 
 
 Wow weak with broken beak. 
 
 Her wings have lost each feather; 
 
 No more she'll fly, neath war's black sky, 
 Her warring hordes to gather. 
 
82 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Thankful the dove of Peace now flies 
 O^er each land and river; 
 
 Thankful that the world now cries 
 For peace to last forever ; 
 
 Thankful that our noble boys 
 
 That fought beneath ^^Old Glory," 
 
 Soon can taste domestic joys, 
 
 While loved ones hear their story. 
 
 Thankful that the time's at hand 
 To show the world much wiser; 
 
 Thankful — soon in every land 
 
 There'll rule no king nor kaiser ; 
 
 The time is near to fill the grave 
 
 With old dead Autocracy, 
 And for freedom's flag to wave 
 O'er world-wide Democracy. 
 
 I've said enough of war and kings, 
 Of laws, and flags, and nations; 
 
 I'm thankful too, for other things 
 
 Like home, and clothes and rations ; 
 
 I'm thankful for a mule to plow, 
 And chicks to crow and flutter; 
 
 I'm thankful for a mulie cow 
 To give us milk and butter. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 83 
 
 r*m thankful for some hogs to kill, 
 
 To furnish meat for frying ; 
 And for "taters" in the hill, 
 
 And fruit my wife's been drying, 
 
 Thankful to the Lord above 
 
 For all the gifts he's given ; 
 I thank Him for His grace ^nd love. 
 
 And for the hope of Heaven. 
 
 —November 28, 1918. 
 
 ■II- 
 
 SIXTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY 
 
 I've floated down the stream of life 
 
 These five and sixty years, 
 I've passed through vales of joy and strife, 
 
 Bright smiles, and bitter tears. 
 
 Life, like the seasons passing by. 
 
 Changing each little while, 
 Dark storm clouds hung across our sky, 
 
 Give place to sun with smile. 
 
 And as it smiles each bending leaf, 
 Bent low with weight of rain, 
 
 Like a mourner bowed in grief. 
 Lifts up its head again. 
 
84 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The rain drops drink the streams of light 
 The sweeping sunbeams bring, 
 
 And from them flash a beam as bright 
 As flashing diamonds fling. 
 
 The dark cloud throws the rainbow out 
 
 Across the path of storm, 
 And nature whispers, "Do not doubt," 
 
 And calms us with her charm. 
 
 We've had our days of bitter grief, 
 
 Of sorrow and of pain, 
 And bent beneath them like a leaf 
 
 Beneath its weight of rain. 
 
 But He who walked upon the sea 
 
 Beneath a stormy sky. 
 Has oft in darkness come to me 
 
 And whispered, "It is I." 
 
 Thus helping me to bear the cross 
 
 Of sorrow or of pain. 
 And what appeared to be a loss 
 
 Oft proved to be a gain. ' 
 
 I know not where His hand shall lead, 
 
 Before me hangs a veil; 
 I know not how the wind shall speed 
 
 The progress of my sail. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 85 
 
 But this I know — where'er I go, 
 Where'er my boat shall roam, 
 
 He'll lead aright — through day or night, 
 And he can lead me home. 
 
 II 
 
 THE AMERICAN POET 
 
 Joyce Kilmer, the young American poet 
 has been killed in action. He was mown down 
 by a German shell on the 30th of July, 1918. 
 He belonged to the Sixty-ninth Regiment of 
 New York, and was in the front rank of battle, 
 chasing the Huns 
 
 "When Death came flying through the air." 
 Death for the young, the brave the fair. 
 Death with his cold and heartless power. 
 Withering life as frost the flower. 
 
 Death in bayonet and death in shell, 
 Darkening earth wtih the shades of hell. 
 Sending our boys to fill a grave 
 In the land of France that they sought to 
 save. 
 
 Among the heap of the dying men 
 Was the noble youth whose flying pen 
 Had sent its message of truth to cheer 
 The hearts of soldiers everywhere. 
 
86 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 And fill the mothers' hearts with joy, 
 With pride, with hope, for her soldier boy. 
 'lis hand is cold, his pen is still. 
 No more its message the heart will thrill. 
 But the souls of patriots there and here 
 Will tribute pay in a falling tear. 
 
 Mr. Alexander Woolcott, who belongs to the 
 staif of the New York Times, but is now serv- 
 ing as a soldier in France, tells us that he vis- 
 ited the grave of Joyce Kilmer and placed upon 
 it a spray of cypress. Young Kilmer lies buri- 
 ed beside Lieut. Oliver Ames. They are buried 
 at the edge of a little copse that is known as 
 the Wood of the Burned Bridge, near the bank 
 of the Ourch, whose sparkling waters speed on 
 their way like streams of human life to take 
 their place in the deep, deep sea. In the land 
 of France, in the home of La Fayette rests the 
 mortal bodies of these young patriots. 
 
 Some day when the smoke of battle has 
 blown away and the dove of peace hovers over 
 a poor and sick, and bleeding and sorrowing 
 world, the children of America and the child- 
 ren of France will walk hand in hand to the 
 graves of these noble dead and lift a stone to 
 commemorate the memory of men who count- 
 ed liberty sweeter than life and stronger than 
 death. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 81 
 
 Following is a poem of Joyce Kilmer^s. 
 Things he wrote of others in a ''Rouge Bou- 
 quet" are now true of him. 
 
 Rouge Boquuet 
 
 "In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet 
 There is a new made grave today, 
 Built by never a spade nor pick 
 Yet covered with earth ten meters thick. 
 There lie many fighting men, 
 
 Dead in their youthful prime. 
 Never to laugh nor love again 
 
 Nor taste of the summertime. 
 For death came flying through the air 
 And stopped his flight at the dugout stair, 
 Touched his prey and left them there 
 
 Clay to clay. 
 He hid their bodies stealthily 
 In the soil of the land they fought to free 
 
 And fled away. 
 Nov/ over the grave, abrupt and clear 
 
 Three volleys ring; 
 And perhaps their brave young spirits hear 
 
 The bugle sing 
 'Go to sleep!' 
 Go to sleep! 
 Slumber well where the shell screamed and 
 fell. 
 
88 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor, 
 You will not need them any more. 
 
 Danger's past ; 
 
 Now at last, 
 Go to sleep!' 
 "There is on earth no worthier grave 
 To hold the bodies of the brave 
 Than this place of pain and pride 
 Where they nobly fought and nobly died". 
 
 THE BOOSTERS 
 
 After all the rip and hustle, 
 After the hurrah and the bustle. 
 To stir the farmer to use his muscle 
 And get on himself a double hustle, 
 
 To don his overalls, jumper or jeans 
 
 And plant big patches of 'taters and beans, 
 
 Using such as a national means 
 
 To feed our allies and our own marines. 
 
 Some farmers who gave their ear a shout 
 When the hustling movers were moving about 
 Went home and thought the plan all out 
 How to raise turnips and 'taters and kraut; 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 89 
 
 But since the trotters have stopped their 
 trottin' 
 
 The message they gave has been forgotten ; 
 
 The plots that they and the farmers were plot- 
 tin' 
 
 Have all given way to a field of cotton. 
 
 The farmer may not have gone to school, 
 But that doesn't say that he is a fool. 
 He thinks with a head that's calm and cool 
 And knows what to plant as a general rule. 
 
 So the farmer has done the very thing 
 That farmers do most every spring; 
 He's planted his surplus crop in a thing 
 That the largest profit he thinks will bring. 
 
 Good farmers have clung to their old-time 
 
 creed, 
 They have planted grain enough to feed 
 And tide them over this time of need — 
 A very wise thing to do indeed. 
 
 The farmer that farms in such a way 
 As to have on hand his corn and hay, 
 With his cows to milk and his hens to lay 
 Can raise some cotton and make it pay. 
 
 No farmer should ever a hobby sing, 
 Nor plant his farm all in one thing, 
 For such a method is sure to bring 
 Him a slave and tool of the money king. 
 
90 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE THINGS WE SOMETIMES HEAR 
 
 It was not a sermon, but just a thing, 
 Which an excited brain did fling 
 
 From off a stammering tongue; 
 
 It brought no message from God^s word, 
 Only a sing-song sound was heard, 
 No truth for old or young. 
 
 The talker called the thing a preach, 
 A sermon that the truth did teach. 
 The truth, the life, the way; 
 
 The people called the thing a screech, 
 That grated on the nerves of each. 
 Much like the donkey^s bray. 
 
 The talker started with a text, 
 But soon his mind was so preplexed, 
 He wandered from the same; 
 
 He used his tongue and muscle power, 
 To squall and hammer for an hour. 
 But to his subject never came. 
 
 Lord pity men that have a tongue, 
 (Be they old or be they young) 
 
 But have no brains behind it; 
 
 That want to preach. 
 And try to teach 
 
 A subject, but can't find it. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 91 
 
 LIFE LIKE A TREE 
 
 Some lives are like beautiful trees that 
 grow in God's garden. Their leaf is green 
 with hope, their bloom is bright with cheerful- 
 ness, their fruit is flavored with loving ser- 
 vice. Their shade of brotherly kindness fur- 
 nishes a refuge that comforts, cheers, and 
 strengthens earth's pilgrims on their desert 
 march across the sands of time. 
 
 Stop dear friend, and talk with me ; 
 Is your life that kind of tree? 
 Strong, and bright, and sweet, and good, 
 If it's not my friend, it should. 
 Stop my friend, and promise me^ 
 You'll make your life that kind of tree. 
 
 Putting things together does not 
 Always mean union. 
 
 I never thought 
 
 It was the best 
 
 To set two hens 
 
 Upon one nest 
 
 They'd mix their feathers 
 
 And their legs. 
 The two together 
 
 Would break their eggs. 
 
92 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 AT THE DEPOT 
 
 Oh, ho ! ho ! ho ! ! You beautiful snow- 
 That covers the ground 'round the old depot, 
 Where a negro is armed with shovel and hoe 
 To rake you off so the crowd can go. 
 
 We hear the auto go whiz and whiz 
 That tries to go. Where the snow now is 
 Life's current flows, in a world of biz, 
 And the Dutchman's nose looks like it will siz 
 
 The traveling drummer is big and stout. 
 As he wags and drags his grips about 
 Mad enough to "cuss" or poui, 
 'Cause the porter let the fire go out. 
 
 II 
 
 Said the funny man to Pat, 
 "Sell me one yard of meat." 
 "Begorah, I will do that. 
 I'll sell you three pig's feet, 
 Then you will have your meat. 
 You cunning old blackguard. 
 For don't you know three feet 
 Always make a yard? 
 
 Old mother earth is beginning to wear 
 Blooms on her bosom and leaves in her hair. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 93 
 
 THE SIMPLE LIFE 
 
 Life is a thing that's so complex, 
 
 So multf orm in thought, in feature. 
 
 Its study doth a soul perplex 
 
 To mark its traits within the creature. 
 
 Life has its power in thoughts and deeds, 
 On w^hich it builds — by which it grows. 
 
 The food on which it fills and feeds. 
 That makes its happiness or woes. 
 
 Not in the crown of reigning kings. 
 Not in the laurel wreath of fame 
 
 Doth sweet contentment softly sing, 
 Or virtue wear an honored name. 
 
 But men in lowly walks of life. 
 
 That drive the plow share through the 
 soil, 
 Unhaunted by ambition's strife. 
 
 With love and hope to sweeten toil. 
 
 With humble cot where vine doth cling. 
 And violets blush as blue as sky, 
 
 In which a loving mother sings 
 Unto her babe a lullaby. 
 
 Within the shadow of the nest, 
 
 With wife and children both to love, 
 
 Here Hfe doth find its sweetest rest, 
 A likeness of the rest above. 
 
94 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Here grows the sweetest things of life, 
 The dew of honey in the flower, 
 
 Untasted by the lips of strife, 
 
 Unbought by money or by power. 
 
 And as the violets 'neath the hill 
 
 Drink in the sunshine and the dew. 
 
 And smile above the laughing rill, 
 
 That hold its shadow soft and blue. 
 
 Not caring what the world may think, 
 Nor what its rushing throng may say, 
 
 As from the sun and dew it drinks 
 Its cup of fulness every day. 
 
 So do the simple lives of men 
 
 That humble like the violets grow. 
 
 Teach us that such is better than 
 A life of riches, pomp and show. 
 
 And when on slumber's dreamless bed 
 Their mortal bodies fall to rest, 
 
 By lips of friends it may be said 
 
 In life or death such men are blest. 
 
 For rich in mind and rich in heart, 
 
 They gladly passed each living day. 
 
 Wealth of this kind will not depart. 
 In earth or heaven it will stay. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 95 
 
 SEPTEMBER 
 
 September, the month that is number nine ; 
 September, the month that's bright and fine ; 
 September, the month when the circkets pine 
 For summer days in their sad decline ; 
 
 September's forest is dark and green. 
 No touch of frost on the leaf is seen ; 
 September, the month that slips beween 
 The autumn gold and the summer green. 
 
 The wild goats climb to the mountain rocks, 
 The autumn birds now fly in flocks. 
 The fields of corn now stand in shocks — 
 The farmers' dividends and stocks. 
 
 Autumn beans in the fields we find 
 Close to the pumpkin with golden rind. 
 Peas and potatoes of different kind 
 Feed the stomach if not the mind. 
 
 The hot sun drops for the day to die, 
 The round moon laughs from the bending sky, 
 The soft cool winds through the windows sigh, 
 To soothe the spirits of you and I. 
 
 ■ II 
 
 A little boy, after listening to a long ser- 
 mon, said, "Ma, is this tonight or is this next 
 Sunday night?" 
 
96 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE DEVIL'S HONEY. 
 
 Devils like bees possess their wings 
 To fly with honey and with stings, 
 And which ever suits them best 
 Is the one that they invest. 
 
 If their lance can do no harm, 
 Their only chance is flattery^s charm; 
 For it's a maxim of the schools 
 That flattery is the food of fools;. 
 
 Not only fools but men of wit, 
 Will condescend to take a bit; 
 So each of them the devil treats 
 On this deceptive kind of sweets ; 
 
 But on the lips of great and small 
 This honey turns to bitter gall, 
 For many fall, as many fell 
 Drunk on this honey made in helL 
 
 For the devil knows the thing 
 Is more destructive than his sting; 
 And so a man may smile and smile 
 And be a devil all the while; 
 
 For devils trap with lust and money, 
 They also trap with smiles and honey. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 97 
 
 /< SUNSET 
 
 Do you see that mist of golden hue 
 In the far-far-distant West, 
 Down at the edge of the dome of blue 
 JVhere the sun sinks down to rest? 
 The Western world is a field of light, 
 All flaked with a purple hue. 
 
 And fleecy clouds once snowy white, 
 
 vTurn amber, purple and blue. 
 
 Thus nature stands at the gate of night 
 
 When the passing day has done. 
 
 To spread this veil of brilhant light 
 
 O'er the face of the setting sun. 
 
 So may it be with you and me 
 
 When life's short day is done, 
 
 May we find the best in the golden West, 
 
 Like the silent setting sun. 
 
 WELCOME 
 
 The lengthening days \vith their grit of sun, 
 That skips and plays where the brooklets run, 
 That paints the flowers for the humming bees 
 And fits green robes on the forest trees. 
 While the Southwind sings its sweet refrain, 
 And tells us that Spring has come again. 
 
98 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE WISE AND FOOLISH 
 
 Some one has said the difference between 
 a wise man and a fool is that wise men make 
 mistakes while fools make blunders. 
 
 Fs astonishing how little wise people know 
 about some things and how much fools (so 
 called) know about some other things. 
 
 For as a rule some "smarts" are fools 
 And so-called fools have bits of knowledge. 
 • A man with brains may be insane 
 And some with few may teach in college. ^ 
 'N *"°^You could soon read and look 
 All through the first book, 
 But Methuselah himself could not read the 
 other. 
 
 If you talk your trouble, 
 You make it double, 
 
 It grows each time you hit it; 
 Then let it lie, and let it sleep, 
 A record of it do not keep, 
 
 Some time you may forget it. 
 
 ^Ij 
 
 If all that I know was written in one book 
 And all I don't know was written in. aaoth^r, 
 
OF A CHAIN OP THOUGHt 99 
 
 MEMORY 
 
 Memory and imagination hold in man's 
 possession the irches of the past and the glory 
 of the future. Without the aid of memory the 
 things of the past would lie buried in the dead 
 sea of f orgetf ulness. Life, love and joy would 
 slumber in the deep, dark grave together. Wis- 
 dom shorn of her locks would stand and stam- 
 mer with the senseless jabber of the fool. 
 
 Memory like a looking glass, 
 An image brings of things that pass, 
 From childhood's bright and pleasant day 
 Till age's twilight dim and gray. 
 
 Some things so bright they make us glad. 
 Some things so dark they make us sad. 
 As days, and years, come back again 
 Like gathered links in life's long chain. 
 
 We see where love assumed its part. 
 The ruling passion of the heart. 
 Where eye met eye, and smile met smile 
 Laughed and lingered just a while. 
 
 We watch and see the shadows pass 
 As autumn frosts change meadow grass. 
 As North winds through the forest call 
 And make the trembling dead leaf fall. 
 
100 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The breath grows hot— the pulse runs high ; 
 Pale grows the cheek — dim grows the eye. 
 The thin lips close— to speak no more, 
 Death brings repose, when life is o'er. 
 
 Hope built with bated breath her wall 
 And now in death she sees it fall. 
 But hope can live and Hope can save 
 For Hope is stronger than the grave. 
 
 AT SIXTY-SEVEN 
 
 This is December 7, 1920. Sixty-seven 
 years ago today I took my place among men 
 and things in life. 
 
 To sleep, to wake, to laugh, to sigh, 
 
 To live, to labor, then to die. 
 
 The thought of death is not so sad, ■ 
 
 The sting of death is not so bad, " ' 
 
 It's but the place where God will pay 
 
 The blessings back, time takes away. 
 
 The gate of mercy and of love | 
 
 That ope's to better things above 
 
 Where we shall live, and know, and see 
 
 The blessings of eternity. 
 
 Long sermons serve as ani-fat — they re- 
 duce the size of the congregation. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 101 
 
 THE WILL AND THE WAY 
 
 There is an old saying that "Where there 
 is a will there is a way"— but I must frankly 
 confess that it is much easier to find the "will" 
 than the "way." 
 
 For different people in our days 
 
 Thwart and block each other's ways. 
 
 Some want this and some want that, 
 
 And o'er the same, they have a spat. 
 
 Mr. Fear and Mrs. Humble both think it 
 it bad. 
 
 Mr. Snort and Mr. Grumble both get mad. 
 
 Mrs. "Nerves" and Mrs. Fidget both have 
 a fit, 
 
 Mr. Slow and Mr. Stingy both stop and 
 quit. 
 
 So there you are, stuck up in the Slough 
 of Despondency, unless Mr. Great Heart and 
 old Sister Never-Fail give the thing a new 
 start and make it prevail. 
 
 When we look into God's book 
 Three kinds of promises are given ; 
 One speaks of earth on which we dwell, 
 V/hile others promise naught but hell; 
 The bright ones promise heaven. 
 
102 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 NATURE'S VOICE 
 
 A lesson heed from the tiny seed — 
 That rests in the mother earth, 
 As it patiently waits to germinate, 
 And gives to the plant a birth. 
 
 Then patience learn— from the plant in turn 
 
 As it stands from hour to hour 
 
 Through day and night — through shade and 
 
 light, 
 For the bud to form a flower. 
 
 Then it waits again — through sun and rain 
 While the days creep on so slow, 
 For nature's power — to change the flower 
 And make the ripe fruit grow. 
 
 So let us know, as seed we sow 
 
 In the world's broad field today; 
 
 To bide the hour ; to wait God's power — 
 
 Take God and nature's way. 
 
 The seed will sprout, the plant grow out, 
 And then will bloom the flower. 
 When days have passed we'll find at last 
 Fruit in the golden hour. 
 
 Three sweetest words to mortals given, 
 Are words of Mother, Home and Heaven. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 103 
 
 AT THE STATION 
 
 Waiting at the station for the train, 
 For the train that runs on the M. & N. A. 
 Waiting at the depot for the train 
 That's to come at 7:30 so they say. 
 
 Waiting at the station while it rains. 
 Rain falls from the clouds so cool and gray, 
 Others with me at the station now remain ; 
 A very anxious crowd to move away. 
 
 Just a common crowd of very common folks 
 Like we meet most any common day; 
 Some talk loud and tell their jokes; 
 Some are timid, some feeble, old and gray. 
 
 All have a common aim — to go 
 
 A common wish — a wish to get away. 
 
 In all the world we find it so, 
 
 Man seeks a place — then wishes not to stay 
 
 And so the world is on the move, 
 Every soul seems anxious for to go ; 
 Dissatisfaction makes us rove. 
 And so the world moves to and fro. 
 
 We are all waiting at the station for the train 
 The train that is moving fast or slow; 
 That will come despite the falling rain. 
 The train of death that comes for all below. 
 
104 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 GOD'S WITNESS 
 
 Psalms 14:1-9; Isaih 50:10 
 
 Dead is the soul 
 That finds no God 
 In Nature's work both far and near, 
 
 And blinded through 
 This world doth plod ; 
 God in his works is everywhere. 
 
 Each bird that flies 
 On feathered wing 
 Doth sing for him a song of praise ; 
 
 Each blade of grass 
 That upward springs 
 Doth speak the wonder of his ways. 
 
 The stars of night 
 With silver light 
 In beauty on this dark world shine ; 
 
 They seem to swing 
 
 And shine and sing, 
 
 The hand that made us is divine. 
 
 The day of Hght, 
 The calm of night, 
 Declare the glory of the lord. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 105 
 
 The earth and sky 
 Both testify 
 And tell of him with one accord. 
 
 Above, below — 
 Where'er we go, 
 Where foot of man has ever trod, 
 
 We never can 
 Find aught but man 
 To tell us that there is no God, 
 
 ■II- 
 
 The stream of literature is fed 
 
 On ideas from the thinking head. 
 
 If all thinking brains should die 
 
 Then the stream would soon drain dry. 
 
 We are not rich by land or gold, 
 
 But by the thoughts of life we hold. 
 
 A life without a purpose, 
 Like a ship without a sail, 
 May drift into a harbor 
 Known by the name of fail. 
 
 ■Il- 
 
 A good man is ilke a good horse, he carries 
 part of his recommendations in his own mouth. 
 
106 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE HALF LOAF 
 
 When some folks can't get what they want 
 they are unwilling to take what they can get. 
 I find a good rule by which to get what I want 
 is always to want what I can get. Then I am 
 not disappointed. When you can't get what 
 you want, always seek to get the next best 
 thing to it and make the best out of it you can. 
 What at first appears to be a curse may prove 
 ; ) be a blessing. 
 
 If you reach to get the whole, 
 
 But can only get the half. 
 Don't grunt and scold and vex your soul, 
 
 But grin— if you can't laugh. 
 
 If you strive to get the cow, 
 
 But can only get the calf. 
 Don't come to grief about the beef. 
 
 Because its not worth half. 
 
 Be patient, friend — wait — endure — 
 Time will bring about the cure. 
 
 This truth avow: you'll own a cow 
 If you keep and feed your calf. 
 
 The sweep of years will dry your tears, 
 
 And you can gladly utter : 
 I'm thankful now I have my cow 
 
 To give me milk and butter. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 107 
 
 HONESTY 
 
 Give us time when honest toil 
 
 On railroad lines and farming soil 
 
 Shall in full measure get its pay ; 
 
 When monied men will be content 
 
 To make on it a just per cent, 
 
 And all shall seek an honest way. 
 
 When half the world won't cry in need 
 Because the other half in greed 
 
 Doth press them sore. 
 
 When each the other's right shall view 
 And ask for self just what is due, 
 \_ ^nd nothing more. 
 
 When free from burning lust of greed, 
 No man the force of law will need, 
 His hand to hold ; 
 
 But when each shall treat the other 
 As a neighbor, friend and brother 
 
 Neath Rule of Gold. (Matt. 7:12). 
 
 Some men are bad enough to cuss, 
 Some men are mad enough to fuss, 
 Some men are mad enough to cry. 
 Some men are sad enough to sigh. 
 Because our State has gone "bone dry." 
 
108 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 AT THE END OF DAY 
 
 When the sun goes down in the distant west, 
 'Mid clouds of purple and gold— to rest, 
 And twilight shadows come silent and still, 
 To spread night's mantle o'er valley and hill. 
 And the evening breeze through the forest 
 
 creeps 
 To sing the fluttering leaves to sleep ; 
 And the stars of light on the bending sky, 
 Bid the day good-night as it passes by, 
 And memory comes in her silent way 
 To read the record of the bygone day, 
 Oh ! then, can your soul to your conscience tell. 
 That your thoughts were pure and your deeds 
 were well ? 
 
 p 
 
 We live in a selfish world, we do 
 Where selfish things are done. 
 A f ev/ folks work for number 2 
 But most for number one. 
 
 •e- 
 
 A spoiled egg never hatches , 
 A dead hen never scratches. 
 With all the women in the world, 
 A man's a fool that batches. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 109 
 
 THE LITTLE GIRL'S WISH 
 
 A little girl sat in the evening glow, 
 When the gilt of sun on the treetops show, 
 To linger awhile and pass away 
 As the eastern sky turns dull and gray — 
 
 The little girl sings a plaintive song, 
 While the twilight shadows creep along. 
 With a longing look in her deep blue eyes 
 She sings her song, then softly sighs. 
 
 Down in her heart is hid away 
 A lingering wish and we hear her say, 
 But what she says — must we ever tell ? 
 Or let you guess — would it be as well? 
 
 Could such a wish breed any harm 
 To such a child with her simple charm? 
 Now promise me for sake of her mother 
 You'll never tell her wish to another. 
 
 And that for her own and her father's sake 
 That your solemn pledge you will not break. 
 Will you pledge by a razor red with rust 
 That shaved a dead man last and "fust,'' 
 
 Will you pledge by a screech owl on a post. 
 That screeches away like a strangling ghost? 
 Will you pledge by the coat that Judas wore. 
 And the dog that licked the beggar's sore, 
 
110 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The water that sloshed in Easern pool 
 Where Balaam watered his talking mule, 
 The brick in the witch of Endor^s jam 
 And the wool that grew on "Collin's ram," 
 
 The rein of the halter that held its holt 
 Around the neck of "Thompson's colt," 
 The Dead Sea where the body floats, 
 And the field of "Carter" that grew the oats, 
 
 The snow and the frost on the far north pole 
 And "the fiddler's three of old King Cole." 
 A mountain goat and a bull dog brave 
 And the rabbit that creeps o'er a negro's grave 
 
 If such a pledge you'll make to me 
 Then listen and I will tell to thee 
 Her childish wish, and what she said. 
 She wished for a cup of milk and bread." 
 
 p. 
 
 Spring has come, gentle Annie 
 
 And the grass now soon will grow. 
 
 Unless winds come from Indiana 
 And bring a freeze and snow. 
 
 The man that falls in love with the girl be- 
 cause she is a good dancer, puts more emphasis 
 upon the heel than the head or heart 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 111 
 
 SEASONS 
 
 The new year comes a humming 
 And the old a humming goe^s, 
 While good old mother nature 
 Has on her winter clothes; 
 
 But she throws off her garments 
 Made of frost and sleet and snow, 
 When the Southwind starts to blowing, 
 And the violets start to grow. 
 
 When April weeps in showers 
 And songbirds start to sing. 
 When May hangs out her flowers 
 And tells us it is Spring. 
 
 While the whipporwill is singing 
 To the shadows of the moon, 
 Old nature comes a bringing 
 Her leafy daughter, June. 
 
 So here we stop our verses 
 And here we change our tune, 
 And listen to Jim Riley 
 Sing a song "Knee Deep in June." 
 
 ■II- 
 
 Some folks build the nest and then set on 
 it until they hatch themselves a brood of 
 troubles. 
 
112 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW 
 
 Ring out the old year 
 With its grief and its tears, 
 Let it be buried 
 With other dead years 
 
 That have passed like a phantom, — 
 Like ships in the night, 
 With sunshine and shadows, 
 With gloom and with light. 
 
 Ring in the New Year 
 With its lamps burning bright. 
 Full of hope and good cheer 
 x\nd love's radiant light. 
 
 Let it unfold its treasure 
 Of pleasure or pain. 
 Let each get his measure 
 Of sunshine and rain. 
 
 Let the old take your sorrow. 
 The sorrow now past; 
 With Faith greet the morrow 
 That's coming so fast. 
 
 Ring out the old year 
 With its sorrow and gloom ; 
 Ring in the new year 
 With its youth and its bloom. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 113 
 
 OCTOBER 
 
 A shortening of the days 
 
 And a coolness of the night 
 
 Tells us that summer stays 
 No longer for his flight. 
 
 He has packed his grip and left us 
 With his sizzle and his grin 
 
 Of heat and dust bereft us 
 
 And other things that's been. 
 
 He has gone. Yes he has left us, 
 But he'll come back a^in, 
 
 The cooing of the North wind, 
 The chillness of the night. 
 
 The purple in the tree tops 
 
 And the sunset's brilliant light. 
 
 The stars standing picket 
 Up in the azure dome. 
 
 And the drumming of the cricket 
 
 On his little cricket drum. 
 Sounding out from field and thicket — 
 
 Tell us Autumn now has come. 
 
 It's a good thing egotism doesn't affect the 
 legs as well as the head, or there would be an 
 army on crutches. 
 
114 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE NEW DAY 
 
 Another night with shaded light 
 From crescent moon and trembling star, 
 That spread its veil o'er hill and dale 
 And flung its shadows everywhere 
 
 Has gone away from earth to stay. 
 The sleeping world has waked again; 
 The rosy morn — a new day born. 
 Sweet mercy's gift — a brand new day. 
 
 Start on your way — this brand new day 
 With noble thoughts and soul of prayer. 
 Let Faith sing out 'bove fear and doubt 
 To pray and trust — will save from care. 
 
 So when the sun its course has run 
 And this day goes to come no more ; 
 When you're asleep in shadows deep 
 Angels guard you from their shore. 
 
 A man may thirst for the life blood of his 
 fellow man and still not be a patriot. Patriot- 
 ism is one thing, murder is another. 
 
 ■II- 
 
 The things men see most everywhere 
 Are colored by the specks they wear. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 115 
 
 DON'T WORRY 
 
 We should not only pray for freedom from 
 the impurities of sin; but freedom from the 
 burden of weariness 
 
 Go away, oh weariness 
 
 With your cruel cross of "keers" 
 That stoops the soul with dreariness 
 
 And blinds the eyes with tears. 
 
 Shine, oh Sun of cheerfulness 
 And drive the clouds away ; 
 
 Take from us our fearfulness 
 And brighten up our day. 
 
 II 
 
 AUTUMN TIME OF YEAR 
 
 The high wind sings 
 
 As high winds do 
 When the woods are brown, 
 
 And the skies are blue. 
 
 And the high wind's song 
 In the woods we hear 
 
 Is the song of the Autumn 
 Time of year. 
 
116 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The purple grapes 
 
 In clusters swing 
 Mid the yellow leaves, 
 
 Where the wild vines cling. 
 
 When such clusters do appear 
 We know its Autumn's 
 Time of year. 
 On the gnarly gum 
 
 Hang leaves dyed red 
 In the blood of summer, 
 
 Past and dead. 
 The cold night dews, 
 
 Dame Nature's tear 
 Tell us it's Autumn's 
 
 Time of year. 
 The wild bird calls 
 
 To its feathered mate. 
 As they plume their flight 
 
 To a warmer state. 
 This note rings out; 
 
 In the songs we hear 
 That this is Autumn's 
 i-^ Time of year. 
 We welcome Autumn 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 117 
 
 With yellow leaf, 
 That makes the woods 
 
 One golden sheaf. 
 While Indian summer 
 
 Doth appear 
 A veil for the Autumn 
 
 Time of year. 
 It seems that nature 
 
 Doth infold, 
 In sun and woods 
 A girt of gold. 
 
 This girt of gold 
 
 Doth not appear 
 Only in Autumn's 
 
 Time of year. 
 
 ■p. 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE ACORN 
 
 I stood beneath a forest tree ; 
 The earth was brown, the wind was free, 
 Some leaves were purple, some were gold ; 
 Made so by Autumn's frost and cold. 
 
 .4n acorn grew above my head, 
 It fell to earth as if 'twere dead. 
 I said to it, "Oh do you know 
 You've had your time to live, to grow? 
 
118 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 But that short time soon passed on by 
 And you have reached your time to die, 
 You pass today as others must 
 To perish in a grave of dust; 
 
 Beneath your parent tree to rot, 
 And by the world to be forgot." 
 The acorn seemed alive and said, 
 You judge me wrong, I am not dead. 
 
 I am not here a grave to fill, 
 But carry on my Master's will. 
 Though I'm an acorn and am small 
 And to the earth I had to fall ; 
 
 It is the way ordained for me 
 To grow and make a forest tree. 
 My roots shall grasp the earth below. 
 My branches toward the heavens grow. 
 
 The sun shall crown me with its light. 
 The moon shall dress me in its night , 
 With silver laces decked with dew 
 Like flashing diamonds brought to view. 
 
 ni stand in beauty every spring. 
 Like a daughter of a king, 
 Dressed in royal robes of green. 
 Standing as a forest queen. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 119 
 
 My leafy garments will unfold 
 Under Autumn's touch, to gold; 
 Or in royal purples show 
 In the Autumn's sunset glow. 
 
 Birds of spring will come to me 
 And will sing their songs of glee. 
 Herds from out the grassy glade 
 Will seek a shelter in my shade ; 
 
 And by man's lips my name be blest 
 While stopping in my shade to rest. 
 Man may come and study me 
 And learn a lesson from my tree. 
 
 And like you the knowledge gain, 
 That things may fall but rise again. 
 
 THE LITTLE SCAMP 
 
 A little boy sat in the morning sun, 
 With his dog, and cat and his toy gun, 
 While a red bird sung from a near-by bower; 
 And a butterfly hung on a drooping flower; 
 
 And a sunbeam shone as they sometimes do, 
 Like a diamond gem in a drop of dew. 
 The little boy talked to his dog and cat. 
 And ran his gun through a hole in his hat 
 
120 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 And struck out his hand with all his power 
 At the butterfly on the drooping flower. 
 Then "muched" his dog and stroked his cat, 
 And killed the butterfly with his hat; 
 
 Then threw a rock which he chanced to see, 
 At the singing bird in the near by tree; 
 Jun ped onto the grass which near him grew 
 And ruined the gem in the drop of dew. 
 
 A barefooted boy we see him stand. 
 As a ruling boy o'er all at hand, 
 Whistling a tune as wild and free 
 As the breath of June or the song of bee. 
 
 You call him Ned, John, Jim or Coy, 
 ''His father's dread," or "his mother's joy." 
 You can't destroy by blame or praise 
 Or keep a boy from his boyish ways. 
 
 Say v/hat you will, do all you can 
 A boy is a boy-— he is not a man. 
 And while he lives in his boyhood days 
 He is sure to walk in his prankish ways. 
 
 There is m^re joy in the song he sings 
 Than the world puts into the crown of kings. 
 
 Some folks in this world remain 
 
 That seem to have more mouth than brain, 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 121 
 
 JONAH 
 
 I write to one and all 
 
 Their attention to call 
 
 To Jonaji who went out to sea. 
 
 Let us talk about his life, 
 
 His folly and his strife, 
 
 The lesson may help you and me. 
 
 The Lord gave him a call — 
 
 He gave himself a fall 
 
 When he tried his duty to shun; 
 
 He struck a stormy gale, 
 
 He struck a swimming whale, 
 
 But he failed to strike any fun. 
 
 And so it is today 
 
 With him who runs away 
 
 When God has work to be done; 
 
 Before you take that route. 
 
 You had better look about. 
 
 Lest a whale catch you on the run. 
 
 When Jonah heard the call 
 
 He felt himself so small 
 
 To do what the Lord wanted done, 
 
 He thought he could not go. 
 
 So he ran away, you know. 
 
 Starting for Tarshish on a run. 
 
 He had the cash to spare. 
 
 So that he paid his fare. 
 
 Men pay for what they get in sin — 
 
122 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 But money paid for wrong 
 Can never help along, 
 It's so now and ever has been. 
 Jonah packed his grip 
 And went aboard a ship, 
 And on it he went sound asleep ; 
 When he began to snore 
 The wind began to roar, 
 A storm was brewing on the deep. 
 And while the storm did rage, 
 The men of every age 
 Began to tremble with alarm. 
 They knew how it had been 
 That God had punished sin, 
 They were sure that sin had bred the storm. 
 So they began to pray 
 And cast their freight away 
 Into the waters of the deep; 
 But while they were working 
 Jonah was a shirking, 
 Doing nothing but sleep. 
 The master came around. 
 And caught him sleeping sound, 
 But he woke him up right away; 
 For Jonah opened his eyes 
 When the captain said arise — 
 Not only to arise, but pray. 
 When Jonah with them got. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 123 
 
 The seamen cast their lot 
 
 In order to locate the blame ; 
 
 So when they made the draw, 
 
 Then everybody saw 
 
 Jonah was guilty of the same. 
 
 But Jonah never cried, 
 
 Nor Jonah never tried 
 
 To prove that from guilt he was free ; 
 
 But as an honest Jew 
 
 He told them what to do — 
 
 To cast him over in the sea. 
 
 The sailors being kind 
 
 Sought hard some way to find 
 
 Jonah and the ship both to keep ; 
 
 They pulled on the oar 
 
 To get the ship ashore. 
 
 But had to cast him in the deep. 
 
 For while they were rowing 
 
 The wind kept a blowing, 
 
 For the storm beat hard against them ; 
 
 But when they cast him in 
 
 As a punishment for sin, 
 
 The storm gave way to a calm. 
 
 Now God, who made the gale. 
 
 Had also made the whale 
 
 As big as whales had ever been; 
 
 When Jonah left the boat 
 
 He struck the fish's throat. 
 
124 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Which opened as he went right in. 
 
 The whale then turned about 
 
 And for Ninevah struck out, 
 
 While poor Jonah three days stuck in; 
 
 With sea weeds around his head, 
 
 And a stomach for a bed. 
 
 He thought and repented of his sin. 
 
 He prayed and did yell 
 
 From the belly oi Hell, 
 
 The Lord heard his prayer and wailing; 
 
 He prayed and did weep 
 
 While he stayed in the deep. 
 
 He cried when he got a "whale-ing." 
 
 He thought he wouldn't pout 
 
 If God would let him out, 
 
 A better life he'd be living; 
 
 He would cut out his pranks. 
 
 And give the Lord his thanks, 
 
 Serving with a voice of thanksgiving. 
 
 When the whale reached the place 
 
 Provided for by grace, 
 
 He belched Brother Jonah on the land. 
 
 When Jonah left the whale 
 
 He struck out on the trail 
 
 To do what the Lord did command. 
 
 He traveled from the sea 
 
 Right on to Nineveh, 
 
 And loud to her people did call 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 125 
 
 With message from the sky, 
 
 Forty days and they must die, 
 
 They heard and repented, one and all. 
 
 Before the forty days 
 
 They quit their wicked ways, 
 
 Then the Lord their sins did forgive ; 
 
 When forty days were fled 
 
 Not one of them was dead, 
 
 For the good Lord did let them live. 
 
 When the folks never died, 
 
 Poor Jonah felt he'd lied; 
 
 Then he got blue and he pouted ; 
 
 To the Lord he did cry. 
 
 With a wish for to die. 
 
 He told how first he had doubted. 
 
 He knew the Lord so well 
 
 His goodness he could tell. 
 
 Although the Lord was in Heaven ; 
 
 He knew how it had been 
 
 When man forsook his sin 
 
 That all such sins were forgiven. 
 
 Jonah still was gritty. 
 
 He went out from the city. 
 
 Just out to the east a little ways ; 
 
 Out where he went he made 
 
 A booth to give him shade, 
 
 To shield him from the sun's hot rays. 
 
 The Lord to assuage his grief, 
 
126 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 And to give his soul relief, 
 
 Grew for him a gourd for shade ; 
 
 And though he had been mad, . 
 
 The gourd shade made him glad, 
 
 When God his mercy thus displayed. 
 
 But Jonah as a fool 
 
 Must still be kept in school, 
 
 At least until the end of the term ; 
 
 He sent a new teacher 
 
 To teach this old preacher, 
 
 The teacher he sent was a worm. 
 
 But the worm did not shirk. 
 
 It went and did its work, 
 
 For worms and whales both obey; 
 
 For none we find but man 
 
 That kicks against God's plan. 
 
 And from his work will run away. 
 
 When Jonah looked around 
 
 His gourd was on the ground, 
 
 And he was left without a shade; 
 
 He may wiggle and squirm. 
 
 He's beaten by a worm. 
 
 For worms sap the best plans laid. 
 
 Poor Jonah found no fun 
 
 In the hot burning sun. 
 
 While the east wind beat on his head; 
 
 His grief aloud he poured 
 
 About his wilted gourd, 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 127 
 
 Wishing to the Lord that he was dead. 
 
 It is oft so with man 
 
 When God upsets his plan, 
 
 He grumbles and wishes to be dead; 
 
 He wiggles and he squirms 
 
 And quarrels with God and worms 
 
 For want of wisc\om in his head. 
 
 We should learn while we live 
 
 God will take as well as give — 
 
 He gives, he takes for the best; 
 
 He may not show his plan 
 
 In what is best for man, 
 
 But trusting in his love we can rest. 
 
 Another thing to know. 
 
 That earthly pleasures grow 
 
 As Jonah's gourd grew in a night; 
 
 When given too much space. 
 
 They rob us of much grace. 
 
 When God takes away it is right. 
 
 The pleasures of the day 
 
 Must swiftly pass away. 
 
 Only for a day are they given ; 
 
 So do not set your heart 
 
 On pleasures that depart, 
 
 But set it on things of heaven. 
 
 Let us learn as a rule. 
 
 Affliction is a school, 
 
 Through which God's mercy oft is sent; 
 
128 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The hand of our own Lord 
 
 Is on the wilted gourd, 
 
 To cause us to think and repent. 
 
 No doubt from that good day 
 
 Old Jonah went his way, 
 
 A wiser and a much better man ; 
 
 The sea, the stormy gale, 
 
 The worm, the gourd, the whale, 
 
 Taught him submission to God's plan. 
 
 His wisdom must be true. 
 
 And best for me and you — 
 
 His will and not ours should prevail; 
 
 Let me tell you, dear man, 
 
 Don't try to dodge His plan. 
 
 Or he will put you in a whale. 
 
 If you want to bore your friend, brag on 
 yourself ; if you want to entertain your friend, 
 brag on him. 
 
i 
 
 Children's Department 
 
 SCRAPS 
 
 I like to please the kiddies, 
 
 Those smiling little chaps 
 
 That please and tease their mothers, 
 
 And their fathers, too, perhaps. 
 
 I like to write things snappy, 
 Fixed up in chiming rhyme. 
 Things to make them happy 
 And have a pleasant time. 
 
 Their dads may count it folly, 
 Their mothers call it "stuff'' 
 But when kids call it jolly. 
 To me that's good enough. 
 
 God bless the little kiddoes 
 With romp, and laugh and curl. 
 They hold Hfe's morning dew drops 
 And the sunlight of the world. 
 
130 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 May those who read this book 
 Do the very best they can, 
 To be a pure good woman, 
 Or a true and noble man. 
 
 
 TfflS WORLD 
 
 This old dirt world on which we whirl 
 Is big and rough and round and funny, 
 While one-half s covered up with night, 
 The other half is bright and sunny. 
 
 Some folks do spit right in its face, 
 This disrespect so oft they've shown it; 
 The earth they tjiink, was made for them, 
 We all suspect they want to own it. 
 
 If such a thing should come about. 
 And earth to them was given, 
 They'd make the other folks move out 
 To either hell or heaven. 
 
 This criticism may be tough, 
 But it's the truth I've told them. 
 One day of earth they'll get enough. 
 But just enough to hold them. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 131 
 
 THE FROG 
 
 One day by the road set a big hop toad, 
 
 Warming himself in the sun, 
 Winking both his eyes and snapping at flies. 
 
 And just having lots of fun 
 
 Chasing the crickets into the thicket 
 
 And making the jar fly skip, 
 Snapping up a worm— making him squirm, 
 
 Holding him firm in his grip. 
 
 Children, cats and dogs, as well as hop frogs, 
 
 May find an end to their joy; 
 They may chance to run in a streak of fun 
 
 On things that fun will destroy; 
 
 So the big hop toad that set by the road 
 
 To warm himself in the sun. 
 Sure made a mistake that caused him to ache, 
 
 And put an end to his fun ; 
 
 He chanced to see a big bumble bee. 
 
 And went for him in a trot, 
 He gulped down the thing,head body and sting 
 
 But soon his belly was hot. 
 
 Be careful my boys in looking for joys. 
 Be careful while you are young; 
 
 Don't bother a thing that carries a sting, 
 If you do you may get stung. 
 
132 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE MOON 
 
 Science tells us that the moon is our near- 
 est neighbor; that folks can't live on it be- 
 cause it has neither air nor water; that the 
 force of gravitation is just one-sixth as strong 
 on the moon as on the earth, so that a stone 
 thrown on the moon would go six times fur- 
 ther than on the earth; and that if a man 
 could jump three feet high on the earth that 
 with the same effort he would jump 18 feet 
 high on the moon. (Fll take Mr. Science's 
 word for it and not try it.) That the moon 
 travels around the earth every Lunar month 
 which is 29 days, 12 hours, 44 minutes and 
 seven-tenths of a second — that it takes just 
 that precise time to revolve on its axes, so 
 that the same side of the moon is always 
 turned toward our earth. (Note I don't own 
 all the earth if I do say OUR earth. 
 
 So the back of the moon is like the back 
 of our neck; a thing we can think about and 
 talk about but never look at. Poets get moon- 
 eyed and have funny thoughts caused by the 
 v/ings of their imagination growing longer 
 than the tail of their judgment. Martin Tup- 
 per expressed his opinion that Hell is located 
 in the moon. Perhaps the similarity of the 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 133 
 
 description of the two places led him to that 
 conclusion. (1) Neither one have cool air or 
 drinking water. (2) Each is thought to be 
 plentifully supplied with sulphur. 
 
 But the thought don't fit in well— 
 The thought of looking up to Hell; 
 Such wild fancies have their birth 
 With such thoughts as hell in earth. 
 
 We have all been more or less acquainted 
 with that naughty boy that burned brush on 
 Sunday (.'^'o old Grandma Tradition says) and 
 for such sinful act was snatched up, brush and 
 all, to live in the moon — all alone. Don't you 
 guess he laughs to see folks sailing around 
 him in their airplanes. 
 
 I said one night to the man in the moon, 
 The man that we children see, 
 
 Will you sing me a song with a silver tune 
 Or a message send to me? 
 
 Ju|^t sing or write on the scroll of the wind 
 That fans the earth and sea, 
 
 Of things that are — of things that's been, 
 And send it down to me; 
 
134 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 You've been so strong, and lived so long, 
 So many things you've learned, 
 
 Since that old day you've gone away 
 To pay for the brush you burned; 
 
 Tell me about the place you live, 
 Way up in the crook of the sky, 
 
 Is it ever wet, up where you set 
 Or is it always dry? 
 
 The cool night breeze then shuffled the trees 
 And a moon beam through them shown ; 
 
 The beam through the tree whispered to me 
 ''I am his telephone:" 
 
 You talk in my ear, and he will hear, 
 Though lofty be his station. 
 
 The message of light he gives tonight , 
 Will be imagination. 
 
 The man in the moon then answered soon, 
 
 From his seat up in the skies. 
 Don't faint nor fear, but stand and hear 
 If you want to be wise ; 
 
 Then go your way with what I say. 
 
 Let others learn of you; . : 
 
 Send out the truth to aged and youth, 
 What is not false is true: 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 135 
 
 If know you must, it's dry as dust, 
 
 We have no rain nor river; 
 It's dry and clear, and cold up here, 
 
 Enough to make one shiver. 
 
 We have no flood, we have no mud 
 
 Upon our silver plain, 
 No birds, no bees, no brooks, no trees 
 
 For want of air, and rain ; 
 
 I have no wife to bless my life, 
 
 I have no son or daughters. 
 No one to pull when I get full, 
 
 Or when I spend my quarters; 
 
 I spend my nights and send my light 
 To help the folks out walking, 
 
 I scrape no skies, nor tell no lies. 
 Goodbye, I am done talking. 
 
 COLD WEATHER 
 
 If I could get myself together. 
 Might write something on the weather. 
 For la, la, la, such weather we've saw. 
 Too cold to thaw in Arkansas. 
 
136 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 While the wind was blowing raw, 
 
 You say "not saw," 
 
 But "we have seen," 
 
 Now, la, la, la, that's what I mean. 
 
 When two blizzards freeze together, 
 Then don't we like a bed of feather, 
 Feathers plucked from off the goose, 
 Soft and downy, warm, and loose; 
 
 Too cold, too cold to stop and view them, 
 Off your "duds" and jump into them; 
 Pull your blankets close together, 
 Shutting out the winter weather 
 
 While it sleets and snows. 
 
 Get your feet and nose 
 
 Down between sheet and clothes 
 
 Where they nearly meet half froze. 
 
 There let them warm while the wind blows 
 And the white snow snows 
 And old mercury goes 
 Down, down, goodness knows 
 
 And takes a frozen doze on zero's toes. 
 They'll bring no harm to break your 
 
 charm 
 Let the wind roar 'round chink and door, 
 Let the snow pour down more and more, 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 137 
 
 Lot the thermometer crawl under the floor 
 Don't you turn o'er, keep still and snore, 
 Keep still and warm 'neath slumber's 
 charm. 
 
 IT GOES WITH YOU 
 
 You ride a horse a hundred miles. 
 And when you stop to hitch 
 
 You'll find his tail behind him. 
 Ready for to switch. 
 
 So with a mean and dirty man 
 That goes from place to place ; 
 
 When he stops and looks around 
 He finds his own disgrace. 
 
 THE WAY HOW 
 
 Once there was a little boy 
 That had to say a speech, 
 
 And so he wrote a letter 
 
 To a man who has to preach. 
 
 Asking for a write-up speech 
 That he might learn and say; 
 
 Then the man who has to preach 
 Did answer him this way: 
 
138 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Little boy, little boy, hear me now; 
 
 You want to speak, and this is how: 
 You just let your own mind act. 
 
 Run down a subject, then walk back. 
 
 Think on a subject, lad, 
 
 Think on it every way. 
 Then write what you have thought 
 
 And then get up and say. 
 
 The things you think with your own mind 
 
 In either speech or letter, 
 Will be a thing that you will find 
 
 The folks will like the better. 
 
 This is a bad war, Fll declare; 
 
 Yet this old world has got her. 
 With some men fighting in the air 
 
 And some down under water. 
 
 •II- 
 
 DONT RUN YOUR NOSE INTO OTHER 
 FOLK'S BUSINESS 
 
 Let me tell you, little boys, 
 About a boy that is 
 That's living without joys 
 With that sore nose of his 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 139 
 
 Into other folk's ^'biz/' 
 That little nose did poke 
 And now they say that his 
 Little nose is broke. 
 
 When you read this letter 
 You'll say without a doubt 
 That boys will do better 
 To keep their noses out 
 
 Of other folks' business 
 That do not them concern, 
 That is one good lesson 
 That everyone should learn 
 
 So if you want to keep your nose 
 And keep it as it is 
 See, my boy, it never goes 
 Into other folks' "biz." 
 
 .||. 
 
 WHY SOME FAIL 
 
 It is oftimes the case that the slow plod- 
 ding boy climbs higher on the ladder of at- 
 tainment in life than the bright, peart boy. 
 It's too often the case that the bright, peart 
 boy gets "struck on himself," thinking he 
 knows it all and that it is needless for him to 
 strive or study to learn more. 
 
140 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 When a boy thinks he's witty, 
 And a girl thinks she's pretty, 
 They are very apt to fail 
 At home or in the city. 
 
 y 
 
 Wisdom's only for the ones 
 Who seek in life to learn it. 
 Many boys in life that fail 
 Wonder why they are defeated. 
 
 The reason why they don't prevail 
 Is because they are conceited. 
 
 OLD WINTER 
 
 You stern old king. 
 Such cold you bring; 
 You bold old thing, 
 You hold a sting. 
 
 We are knowing every year 
 That you are going to appear. 
 And while showing that we fear. 
 You come blowing everywhere. 
 
 For when you start to going, 
 And put the north winds blowing, 
 And set the clouds to snowing. 
 And freeze the wild brooks flowing. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 141 
 
 When you awake to tease us, 
 Then you take and squeeze us; 
 Then you shake and freeze us, 
 We ache 'till you release us. 
 
 Your awful breath it blows 
 Like needles through our clothes; 
 It crimson tips our nose 
 And dips down to our toes. 
 
 Your blizzards they roar, 
 'Round chimney and door, 
 Like wizards that snore 
 With gizzards that's sore. 
 
 They fall like a fleet. 
 Bombarding with sleet 
 Everything that they meet 
 In forest and street. 
 
 When your blizzards stop ripping. 
 And the rains stop dripping, 
 And the cold stops gripping, 
 Then the folks start slipping. 
 
 They slip at the shop. 
 They slip at the mill, 
 They slip when they stop 
 Or try to stand still. 
 
142 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 They make a short stumble, 
 They take a hard tumble; 
 It makes them look humble 
 They get up and grumble. 
 
 They will not remain, 
 They ^\ill trot home again, 
 For they caught a strain 
 That brought themi a pain. 
 
 They start up the street 
 All covered with sleet. 
 Then out goes their feet 
 And they take a seat. 
 
 Not long do they ''set,'' 
 The place they have met 
 Is too cold and wet, 
 They climb up and fret. 
 
 They have a desire 
 To draw up some nigher. 
 Up to a good fire, 
 Where they can get drier. 
 
 By shop and by store, 
 
 They hop as if sore; 
 
 They stop never more 
 
 Till they flop through the door. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 143 
 
 They sit by the fire, 
 And cry if a crier, 
 Or lie if a liar , 
 They sit and dry drier. 
 
 They sniffle and sneeze. 
 They cough and they wheeze. 
 They shiver and freeze: 
 Lagrippe's their disease. 
 
 They grunt and they grin. 
 They rub their hot shin, 
 And wish for hot gin 
 To warm them ag'in. 
 
 If they could but slip 
 One wee little sip, 
 To help their sore hip 
 And cure their old grippe. 
 
 With deep angry tone. 
 They murmer and moan. 
 They grumble and groan 
 And hate "the dry bone." 
 
 With face crimson red, 
 With pain in their head. 
 They pace off to bed 
 And grunt as half dead. 
 
144 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 With ginger tea sweet, 
 Hot irons at their feet, 
 'Tween blankets and sheet 
 A snooze they soon meet. 
 
 These things kill their pain, 
 From heel up to brain, 
 Their grippe can't remain. 
 They are up well again. 
 
 But winter you know. 
 With you it's not so; 
 You stay and you blow, 
 With ice and with snow. 
 
 While shivering and freezing. 
 And shaking and sneezing, 
 We think and we reason. 
 Why have such a season. 
 
 But some who seem knowing, 
 Say freezing and snowing 
 Gives soil better showing 
 To keep the crops growing. 
 
 And thus you are dressing 
 Old earth with a blessing; 
 Your cold is no evil. 
 It kills the boll weevil. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 149 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Owl, stop, who, who, who, 
 You talk to me, I'll talk to you. 
 Of your great wisdom oft Tve heard 
 For you are known as a wise old bird, 
 
 Noted for wisdom and for truth. 
 So much needed by every youth. 
 So of your judgment I've made choice. 
 About my dress, also my voice. 
 
 For every one that's talked of you 
 Say that your judgment's wise and true. 
 While through the woods I've passed along. 
 The birds have praised my dress and song. 
 
 They say with me is joined together 
 Gift of song and gift of feather. 
 That in the feathers I am dressed. 
 While sweet songs warble from my breast. 
 
 So I have flown a long, long way 
 To hear my friend, what you may say. 
 Knowing that I shall hear from you 
 An honest statement just and true. 
 
 Then spake the owl with solemn voice, 
 "If it be true, truth is your choice. 
 Then I shall feel at perfect ease 
 To speak the truth, if truth will please. 
 
146 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE HORNET 
 
 The hornet is a creature 
 That two wings has got; 
 You may have met the fellow 
 Or sure you may have not. 
 
 He is a \nnged creature; 
 Like a bee, a head he's got. 
 He keeps his front end moving 
 And the other end red hot. 
 
 He may meet you laughing 
 But he will leave you sad. 
 When he stops to tell you ''howdy." 
 You will wish he never had. 
 
 He leaves this bad imprtission 
 On the mind of every friend, 
 
 So they make the sad confession 
 He's a splinter in one end. 
 
 He's ?.s lively as a drummer, 
 But never comes in winter; 
 He only comes in summer, 
 But he always brings his splinter. 
 
 You may watch him at a distance. 
 You may bait him with a fly; 
 He T\ill hang on to a dead one. 
 You can burn him 'till he'll die. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 147 
 
 Don't ever try to pet him 
 Nor seek to make him mad 
 Nor let him back up on you 
 Or you'll wish you never had. 
 
 WINTER 
 
 Old winter is coming 
 With his old white beard, 
 His cold thin whistle, 
 In the woods is heard. 
 
 The sun is running 
 On a shorter route, 
 On a ten-hour schedule. 
 And his day is out. 
 
 While the days grow shorter, 
 The nights advance; 
 That they may give 
 The moon a chance 
 
 To hang her lantern 
 In the winter sky. 
 To gild the snow clouds. 
 As they pass by, 
 
 And help the hunter 
 So that he may see 
 The big fat "possum" 
 In the "simmon' tree. 
 
152 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 MRS. LASETER'S CAT 
 
 The harvest moon that shines in June 
 Makes bright the golden sheaf. 
 
 The summer breeze among the trees 
 Brings quiver to the leaf. 
 
 But through it all my tears will fall, 
 My comfort all has fled. 
 
 The reason why I sign and sigh 
 Is : My old cat is dead. 
 
 The frisky mouse plays o'er the house 
 A trap I'll have to fetch him. 
 
 If Tobe were here I'd have no fear, 
 For sure I know he'd ketch him. 
 
 The summer sun its course will run. 
 And then will come the fall, 
 
 But what of that, for my old cat 
 Will never come at all. 
 
 Within my dreams sometimes it seems 
 I hear old Tobe a purring 
 
 It makes my heart with pleasure start 
 I laugh aloud and scare him. 
 
 Jay says to me, "Don't silly be. 
 
 Although your heart is smitten. 
 
 If you'll not cry. Gentlemen !, I'll try 
 To hunt you up a kitten. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 145 
 
 These things being true, 
 We must put up with you, 
 As we can't cure you, 
 We'll grin and endure you. 
 
 THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM 
 
 Two peckerwoods desired a worm 
 And set their day and sought him, 
 But the first one from his roost 
 Was the bird that caught him. 
 
 The second one flew all around 
 And then went back downhearted 
 For the early bird had found 
 The worm before he got started. 
 
 So some nabobs without jobs 
 Now set around down hearted. 
 Some John or Bob got on the job 
 Before they ever started. 
 
 So if you want a job, my boy, 
 Don't wait too long to hit it. 
 The early bird sure gets the worm. 
 Go early thou and get it. 
 
150 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 My dear young friend, Til say to you, 
 Your feathers are a pretty blue, 
 But the opinion of my mind, 
 You have too many of one kind. 
 
 So this opinion I express, 
 
 You are too gaudy in your dress. 
 
 Oft times I've heard you jay birds sing 
 
 In frosty winter and in spring, 
 
 ril say in truth, as truth's your choice, 
 There is no music in your voice, 
 At least no music comes to us. 
 We only hear a noisy fuss, 
 
 A fuss that no one can admire. 
 Though rendered by a bird or choir. 
 Some folks and birds would comfort bring 
 If they but knew they cannot sing " 
 
 The jay then ruffled up each feather, 
 Then let them all fall down together. 
 And to the owl she turned her back. 
 And flitted from him through a crack. 
 
 She cried, "I never saw a fowl 
 Half so stupid as an owl." 
 The old owl gave a kno^dng wink. 
 Or rather we might say a blink, 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 151 
 
 And said, 'The trouble with the jay- 
 Are common troubles of our day, 
 For many people now we find 
 Who think, but do not know their mind. 
 
 To find a truth they seem intent. 
 While seeking but a compliment. 
 But when the truth to them you tell 
 It fails to please them very well. 
 
 And like the poor proud hearted jay, 
 Plain words of truth drive them away. 
 So if to please such folks you try, 
 You must flatter — you must lie/' 
 
 But let me say to every youth. 
 Let such go way — you tell the truth. 
 Tell the truth and to it cling. 
 Tell the truth in everything. 
 
 For every bird is not a jay. 
 
 And truth won't drive all folks away. 
 
 Oft criticisms of a friend. 
 
 Prove most helpful in the end, 
 
 Unless we act the fooHsh jay 
 And from their counsel turn away. 
 
148 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE OWL AND THE JAY 
 
 A wise owl sat in a farmer's barn. 
 He was there for shelter, not for corn. 
 While some folks do of owls complain, 
 One thing is true, they eat no grain. 
 
 They dine on things not near so nice, 
 Like snakes and lizzards, rats and mice, 
 Chickens sometimes feed these creatures, 
 But the same is true of preachers. 
 
 In other things they act together. 
 When both fly out all fuss and feather. 
 All preachers need not raise a howl, 
 It's only some that's like an owl. 
 
 You flop and move when thus I punch, 
 I'll stop and prove you're in the bunch. 
 On this no more I have to say. 
 Unless it's in some other way. 
 
 I leave the preacher for the fowl, 
 Turn to the jay bird and the owl. 
 The owl looked wise as most owls do, 
 Who blink their eyes and sing, who, who. 
 
 He cried "Who, who comes here today?" 
 "I do, I do," said a Blue Jay. 
 The jay bird lit on a pile of hay, 
 He bowed and spit and then did say^ 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 157 
 
 That old black bear, 
 
 With long black hair, 
 Was happy as a bear can be, 
 
 Making a feast 
 
 For bird and beast 
 In the butt of a hollow tree. 
 
 He wrote them "Come 
 
 When you hear my drum 
 Go thumpity-thump-thump, thump, 
 
 You come to me 
 
 In the hollow tree 
 By the side of the old gray stump.'* 
 
 The day had come 
 
 To beat the drum. 
 It sounded most like thunder. 
 
 From every way 
 
 They came that day. 
 To see them was a wonder. 
 
 Great swarms of flies 
 
 Of different size. 
 And bees, and bugs and snails 
 
 They eat the honey 
 
 That cost no money 
 And winked and wagged their tails. 
 
154 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 GROUND HOG DAY 
 
 Away down by an old gum log 
 
 In a low and sandy flat, 
 In his den by the log 
 Lived an old ground hog; 
 
 Not only old but fat. 
 There he spends his life, 
 With his son and wife, 
 
 Just like a sure enough man; 
 They feast on roots. 
 And hold disputes. 
 
 And argue the best they can. 
 It is no surprise, that the son is wise, 
 
 For sons are oft that way; 
 They think as a rule, their Dad^s a fool, 
 If Dad don't think their way. 
 
 It's no surprise, the son so wise. 
 Would argue for his way. 
 About autumn and spring and other things 
 
 Among them the ground hog day. 
 The young ones claim. 
 
 That the day it came. 
 When the calendar stood at 2; 
 The old one said you young "sap head," 
 
 That date will never do. 
 When I was young the song they sung 
 
 Was the day of Valentine; 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 155 
 
 Our fathers talked 
 And looked and walked, 
 
 To see if the sun did shine. 
 While the old one talked, 
 
 The young one walked 
 To the door and saw the sun ; 
 
 He saw it and then 
 
 Went in his den, 
 And won't come out for fun. 
 
 On Valentine, 
 
 No sun did shine. 
 When the old one reached his door ; 
 
 So he walked out 
 
 And walks about, 
 And won't go back no more. 
 
 Between the two. 
 
 What will we do? 
 Which one has the truth now got? 
 
 The young one told 
 
 The weather cold. 
 But the old one tells it hot. 
 
 It seems the weather 
 
 Can't get together. 
 Or agree upon the thing; 
 
 One day will snow. 
 
 The north wind blow. 
 While the next day looks like spring. 
 
160 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Each bird and beast, 
 
 While at this feast 
 Dare dine upon the other. 
 
 While men as kings 
 
 May do such things, 
 In so-called Christian nations, 
 
 It's time, at least. 
 
 For bird and beast 
 To seek a higher station. 
 
 The brown hawk said. 
 
 With shake of head, 
 ^'Eagle, you have my feather; 
 
 If there's no meat 
 
 We cannot eat," 
 So they flew off together. 
 
 "Go to the air," 
 
 Said old black bear; 
 "There are guests enough without you. 
 
 You want to fill 
 
 Your greedy bill 
 On murdered flesh about you." 
 
 Said wolf to fox 
 
 Upon his box. 
 We also vote their ticket. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 153 
 
 That brings relief and stops my grief 
 
 To think about the kitten, 
 But the old cat that caught the rat 
 
 I'll never be fergittin.' 
 
 TWO SIDES OF IT 
 
 Said the old mother duck 
 To the little duck-ee, 
 "How you scatter your mud 
 On yourself and on me! 
 
 See that little chicken 
 The Master has fed; 
 No mud on him sticking 
 And smooth is his head." 
 
 "Oh, yes," said the duck-ee, 
 "Your saying is true 
 But he has a mother 
 That isn't like you. 
 
 She gave him his feathers 
 So nice, and so red 
 And gave him a comb 
 To keep on his head. 
 
 So what youVe been saying 
 You had better take back, 
 Or your child may go straying 
 Away from your quack." 
 
158 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 And there were rats 
 
 And dogs and cats, 
 And little soft-furred mice 
 
 That nodded their head 
 
 For a piece of bread, 
 While each one ate a slice. 
 
 Most every bird 
 
 Of which you've heard. 
 Of every kind of feather, 
 
 Dipped in their bill 
 
 And ate their fill 
 And talked about the weather. 
 
 Old Mister Fox 
 
 Stood on a box, 
 And winked at Mr. Rooster. 
 
 But said he, 
 
 "You can't catch me 
 Like your daddy "useter." 
 
 The old wolf looked 
 
 At Mister Sheep, 
 And said, "I like good mutton.'' 
 
 While Master Ram 
 
 Took him a dram 
 And fixed himself for buttin.' 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 159 
 
 The hen and duck 
 
 Went quack and cluck 
 And looked at old grasshopper. 
 
 Rooster and drake 
 
 Their heads did shake, 
 The sign each gave to stop her. 
 
 The old red cow 
 
 And old black sow 
 Called out for slop and fodder. 
 
 The old black bear 
 
 Said, "ril declare. 
 My friends, I haven't got 'er." 
 
 Squirrel and rabbit. 
 
 True to habit. 
 Dined on nuts and grasses. 
 
 The big raccoon 
 
 With big black spoon 
 Took honey for molasses. 
 
 The little rat, 
 
 With velvet hat, 
 Squeaked, "Give me bread and cheese." 
 
 The 'possum said, 
 
 "I want no bread, 
 But grapes and 'simmons, please." 
 
156 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 THE BEAR SUPPER 
 
 A big black bear 
 
 Lived in the wood, 
 In the butt of a hollow tree. 
 
 The bear in the wood 
 
 Was noble and good, 
 Much better than bears oft be. 
 
 He said one day, 
 
 "ril give a play 
 And a feast of bread and honey, 
 
 Where all can meet 
 
 And all can eat 
 Without a cost of money. 
 
 The bear then wrote 
 
 A friendly note 
 To the fox and wolf and deer. 
 
 To the sow and shoat 
 
 And the billy-goat. 
 And animals far and near. 
 
 To birds and bees 
 
 In forest trees, 
 To cats and rats and moles, 
 
 To things with wings 
 
 And things with stings 
 That live in nests and holes. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 161 
 
 If there's no meat 
 
 For us to eat, 
 Wt'll go back to our thicket." 
 
 "Good bye/' said all, 
 
 Both great and small. 
 "We do not wish to flout you, 
 
 But we must say, 
 
 Since your'e away 
 We feel more safe without you." 
 
 The rooster crowed, 
 
 The red cow lowed, 
 The black sow dropped her bristle; 
 
 The guineas quack 
 
 A loud pot-rack. 
 And Bob-White gave a whistle. 
 
 The old blue- jay 
 
 Looked truly gay. 
 The robins sang quite merry; 
 
 Each felt as fine 
 
 As if his wine 
 Was made from peach and cherry. 
 
 The bee, it said, 
 r With drooping head, 
 "I wish I were a singer. 
 
162 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 For since I came 
 
 I'm filled with shame 
 To think I brought my stinger. 
 
 'Tm glad to say, 
 
 From this good day 
 ril try to make more honey." 
 
 ^That's better far," 
 
 Said old black bear, 
 "Than trying to make money." 
 
 Said billy goat, 
 
 In silly note, 
 "Some men may call me mutton, 
 
 But since I came 
 I feel more tame, 
 And less inclined to buttin\ " 
 jfT. Up spake the mule, 
 ( Both calm and cool, 
 "A truth to me is sticking. 
 
 For now I feel 
 
 ril use my heel 
 For better things than kicking." 
 
 "True," said the cow, 
 
 "I'm like you now; 
 At the same truth I'm looking. 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 163 
 
 I will not scorn 
 My natural horn, 
 But try to do less hooking. 
 ^, / "I have no greed 
 ^ ' ' For extra feed, 
 I need no dress of silk; 
 
 ril serve a man 
 The best I can, 
 Not with my horns, but milk." 
 ,-. ... The rooster said, 
 
 With down cast head, 
 'That's truth the cow is lowing, 
 
 I'll try to scratch 
 
 More in my patch 
 And do some less of crowing." 
 
 Said old black bear, 
 
 '1 do declare 
 You've been a bunch of sinners. 
 
 But go your way 
 
 From this good day 
 And start as new beginners. 
 
 "The soul that feeds 
 
 On selfish greed 
 And seeks to wreck his brother, 
 
164 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 May gather pelf 
 But curse himself 
 While cursing of another. 
 
 ''Now go/' said he, 
 "And happy be 
 And write to me a letter 
 
 And let me hear 
 From far and near 
 Thatall are living better." 
 
 f /: "We will," said they, 
 "And any day 
 You want us all to come, sir, 
 
 To have a feast 
 As bird and beast. 
 Just tap upon your drum, sir." 
 
 THE PESKY FLY 
 
 Summer's coming by and by 
 
 To bring the pesky humming fly 
 To scratch our nose and speck our pie, 
 
 And when we try to take a nap 
 Then he'll come along perhaps 
 
 And stick his toes down in our nose 
 Up to his knees and make us sneeze. 
 
 Then we will sigh and say, "Oh fly, 
 I wish you'd go away and die.'* 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 165 
 
 EARLY INFLUENCES 
 
 A pebble in a rivulet cast, 
 
 May change the current of a river, 
 A germ within an acorn blast, 
 
 And dwarf the growing oak forever . 
 
 So seeming trifles oftimes prove 
 
 The bane that poisons life's own river, 
 
 What man mighv term a sin in germ 
 May blast his life tree on forever. 
 
 As twigs are bent so trees incline, 
 
 The crook still in the body showing. 
 
 And errors caught in childhood time 
 In after life is oft found growing. 
 
 So watch your seed before you sow. 
 
 For evil starts when starts the sowing; 
 
 If evil seeds fall in your land. 
 
 An evil crop will soon be growing. 
 
 All of us poor mortals made up of blood and 
 
 bones. 
 Live in frail glass houses, therefore should 
 
 not throw stones ; 
 If we should ask for mercy, then mercy we 
 
 should show. 
 For when we come to reaping, we reap just 
 
 what we sow. 
 
166 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 Education has been called the "Hand maid 
 of Religion"— Religion being the only thing 
 in the world ranking above it — It is of such 
 importance that it deserves, 
 
 Thoughts from the wisest brains, 
 Best words from tongue or pen 
 To count its needs — and gains 
 In the lives of living men. 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher said: 
 
 ''Education is the knowledge of how to 
 use the whole of oneself. 
 
 Men are like knives with many blades; 
 they know how to open one and only one; all 
 the rest are buried in the handle, and they 
 are no better than thev would have been, 
 made with but one blade. Many men use but 
 one or twa faculties out of the score with 
 which they are endowed. 
 
 A man is educated who knows how to 
 make a tool of every faculty — how to open it 
 — how to keep it sharp and how to apply it to 
 all practical purposes.'' 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 167 
 
 The eye for vision, the ear for sound 
 
 To know the nature of things when found 
 
 Things in the ocean, or earth or sky. 
 
 To mark their motion and the reason why. 
 
 We are put into this world to know things 
 
 and do things. Education is finding out the 
 things we ought to know, so as to be better 
 able to do the things we ought to do. 
 
 Education is not to shield people from 
 labor, and help them be a drone in the human 
 bee hive. 
 
 We should seek an education, 
 Not in order for to shirk 
 But with an aspiration 
 That it helps us do our work. 
 
 The school is to man what the grind stone 
 is to the ax or the file is to the saw. 
 
 It does not supply the metal nor make 
 the tool — but only fits it to do beter work. 
 
 Education is not, so much the putting of 
 things into our lives as it is the bringing out 
 of them, things put there by nature. 
 
 It has therefore been compared to an in- 
 cubator that does not put the bird into 
 the egg shell but develops and brings out the 
 one nature has put in. 
 
168 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 No incubator now in use 
 Can hatch an eagle from a goose. 
 For nature never made such thing 
 As goose egg holding eagle's wing. 
 
 But nature has arranged through grace 
 For everything a fitting place, 
 And though the goose may never iiy 
 Like an eagle in the sky, 
 
 There is one place where she beats him 
 And that one place is in the swim. 
 No living man — no training school 
 Can make a wise man of a fool, 
 
 But as an ax with metal soft 
 Can be improved by grinding oft, 
 So people with a feeble brain 
 May study hard and get some gain. 
 
 A ''Book read fool" may be a curse 
 A bookless fool is much the worse. 
 The young who will not go to school 
 Seeks by choice to be a fool. 
 
 For in this age of educational progress 
 and educational advantages, the young man 
 that wastes his time and opportunities and 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 169 
 
 fails to get an education will find in his com- 
 ing years that Esau-like he has sold his 
 birthright for a mess of pottage. He will find 
 himself. 
 
 Like a wagon without wheels 
 
 That must drag instead of run, 
 
 Like a hunter mid his game 
 
 Without a trap or gun. 
 
 He may sigh or he may sing, 
 
 He may try to climb or cling. 
 
 But he stands a helpless thing. 
 
 Like a bee without a sting. 
 
 Like a kite without a string. 
 
 Although the wind may strongly blow 
 
 He can never rise nor go. 
 
 He's a bird without a wing, 
 
 He's a poor and helpless thing. 
 
 The time has been when good excuses 
 could be offered for illiteracy — ^but that time 
 has passed — Today schools and colleges — sup- 
 ported by public funds are in reach of all our 
 young people. So that every young man or 
 woman having an ambition to know some- 
 thing — Do something and be something, may 
 gratify that ambition. 
 
 The time has come when no door of op- 
 portunity will open to the uneducated. 
 
170 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 The world will say to such 
 There is nothing in you, 
 There is nothing to you. 
 
 If you had ambition or energy you would 
 have gone to school. 
 
 The road that leads to the land of failure 
 is a very broad one and is crowded with many 
 travelers. 
 
 It is paved with whiskey bpttles and 
 clouded with cigarette smoke. 
 
 The dance hall — the idler's seat, the gam- 
 bler's den line the way. 
 
 Young people if you don't wish to fail 
 keep off that route. 
 
 Don't spend your money, 
 
 Don't spend your time 
 
 On things of folly, 
 
 Or things of crime. 
 
 Don't think that men are made of clothes. 
 
 Or life is made of picture shows, 
 
 Don't be a loafer nor with them set 
 
 Nor burn your brains in a cigarette, 
 
 The world has better things for you; 
 
 Seek to find them and be true. 
 
 One of the greatest lessons a person ever 
 learned — is self-dependence. No one should 
 
OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 171 
 
 willingly become a parasite or be a mistletoe 
 and depend on another life to support them. 
 
 James A. Garfield said: 
 
 "Poverty is uncomfortable as I can testi- 
 fy; but nine times out of ten the best thing 
 that can happen to a young man is to be toss- 
 ed overboard and compelled to sink or swim 
 for himself. In all my acquaintance I never 
 knew a man to be drowned who was worth 
 the saving." 
 
 The world is full of opportunities. There 
 is work for all who are wilHng to do it. 
 
 There is plowing and sowing, 
 There is reaping and mowing^ 
 There is boiling and baking, 
 There is mending and making. 
 For John and for Lizzie, 
 To keep them both busy. 
 
 So every young person's motto should be 
 to work to learn while learning to work. 
 
 Every one should cherish lofty ideals — 
 Hitch your wagon to a star, and seek to drive 
 your team up there. For folks never live 
 above their ideals — they who seek for noth- 
 ing will find all they seek for. 
 
172 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
 
 Character is the only thing we gather in 
 this world that we can carry with us beyond 
 the grave — Let us be careful then in its for- 
 mation. 
 
 Put in your life things good to last. 
 Waste not your moments as they go ; 
 The life to come when this is past 
 Will yield the harvest here we sow. 
 To sow good seed be thou intent 
 Seek to be rich in thought and deed, 
 Lest coming years make you repent 
 When you shall reap but thorn and weed. 
 God helps the soul that helps itself; 
 The sluggard sleeps outside his fold. 
 Sell not your birthright then for pelf 
 When you may turn it into gold. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Action 42 
 
 April 27 
 
 Arkansas 52 
 
 A New Law 69 
 
 Autumn 74 
 
 At Sixty-four 79 
 
 American Poet, the 85 
 
 At the Depot 92 
 
 At Sixty-Seven . 100 
 
 At the Station 103 
 
 At the End of Day 108 
 
 Autumn Time of Year 115 
 
 Beauty ... 14 
 
 Birthday Gifts 60 
 
 Birthday Gift 34 
 
 Birth of Day __ 7 
 
 Blind Men's Elephant 46 
 
 Chain of Thought 5 
 
 Cold Weather 135 
 
 December 59 
 
 Don't Act the Fool 45 
 
 Different Tastes 80 
 
 Don't Worry 115 
 
 Don't Run Your Nose Into Other Folk's 
 
 Business 138 
 
 Each Life Holds Within Itself 59 
 
 Early Influences 165 
 
 Education 166 
 
 Equinox 26 
 
 End of the Year, the 56 
 
INDEX 
 
 Fate or God 12 
 
 February 27 
 
 Field of Life, the 10 
 
 Four Stages~of Life, the 49 
 
 Fussy 51 
 
 Give Me a Country Home 8 
 
 Ground Hog Day 154 
 
 Goody-Goody Man, the 58 
 
 God's Witness 104 
 
 Home 63 
 
 Honesty 107 
 
 It Goes With You 137 
 
 Jonah 121 
 
 Life 55 
 
 Life Like a Tree 91 
 
 Let Him Go 80 
 
 Little Girl's Wish, the _109 
 
 Luck 78 
 
 Man Up a Tree, the 15 
 
 May 30 
 
 Memory 99 
 
 Mrs. Laseter's Cat .. 152 
 
 Nature's Voice 102 
 
 October 113 
 
 Our Country's Mission 37 
 
 Old Tattler, the 63 
 
 October's Middle 70 
 
 Our Uncle Sam 71 
 
 On the Picture of Robert Browning 72 
 
 Old Winter 76 
 
 Old Winter __140 
 
 Patience 41 
 
 Poets 5)6 
 
 Pure in Heart 54 
 
INDEX 
 
 Power of Thought in Words 28 
 
 Science — True and False 42 
 
 Scraps — _129 
 
 Seasons 111 
 
 September 95 
 
 Sixty-third Birthday 32 
 
 Sixty-fifth Birthday 83 
 
 Spring 9 
 
 Superstition 53 
 
 Smile 58 
 
 Sunset - 97 
 
 Talents A 61 
 
 That Friend of Mine 29 
 
 The Bear Supper 156 
 
 The Boosters 88 
 
 The Incubator 46 
 
 The Devil's Honey 96 
 
 The Early Bird Gets the Worm 145 
 
 The Frog 131 
 
 The Half Loaf 106 
 
 The Hornet 146 
 
 The Little Scamp 119 
 
 The Moon __132 
 
 The New Day 114 
 
 The Owl and the Jay 148 
 
 The Old Year and the New 112 
 
 The Pesky Fly 164 
 
 The Simple Life 93 
 
 The Way How 137 
 
 The Will and the Way 101 
 
 The Wise and Foolish 98 
 
 They 25 
 
 This World 130 
 
 Things We Sometimes Hear 90 
 
INDEX 
 
 Time's New Year Gift 61 
 
 Thoughts on Thanksgiving 81 
 
 Twlight Hour, the 70 
 
 Two Sides of It 153 
 
 Voice of the Acorn, the 117 
 
 We Hope 29 
 
 Weights and Wings 68 
 
 Welcome 97 
 
 Winter 147 
 
 Wit 57 
 
 Why? __ 35 
 
 Why I Write __— 6 
 
 Why Some Fail 139 
 
NOTES OF CORRECTION 
 
 When you come to an ink red cross in reading 
 it denotes something incorrect on that page. 
 Look in these notes for same number of page 
 and you will find the correction. 
 
 PAGE 14— BEAUTY. 
 
 This poem written in 35 lines should have 
 been printed in stanzas of 5 lines each. 
 
 PAGE 18 — The third line on this page is left out 
 It should read: 
 
 For in wrath a Jew would wax 
 When he had to pay his tax. 
 
 PAGE 42 — The fifth and sixth lines in "Action" 
 should be read as a couplet, thus: 
 
 *'Why gather thoughts from books or school 
 Then turn away and act the fool." 
 
 PAGE 97— "SUNSET" Should have been print- 
 ed in 4 lines stanza's instead of 6 lines. 
 
 PAGE 98. Two pieces on this page are jumbl- 
 ed together. Beginning at red line read as 
 follows : 
 
 If all I knew was written in one book 
 And all I don't know was written in another 
 You could soon read and look through the first 
 
 book, 
 But Methuselah himself could not read the 
 
 other. 
 
PAGE 107 Should have been printed in 6 line 
 stanzas instead of 4 lines. See bracket. 
 
 PAGE 113— "OCTOBER" Should be divided at 
 red line into two 10 line stanzas. 
 
 PAGE 116— "AUTUMN TIME OF YEAR" 
 
 Should have been printed in 8 line stanzas. 
 Each stanza ending with "Autumn Time of 
 Year." 
 
 PAGE 140 — Two lines left out of first stanza. 
 It should read. 
 
 Wisdom's not so plentiful 
 That anyone should bum it. 
 Wisdom's only for the ones 
 Who seek in life to learn it. 
 
 PAGE 160 — Two lines are left out in stanza at 
 top of this page. It should read. 
 
 "Each bird and beast while at this feast 
 
 Must act the part of brother 
 No bird nor beast while at this feats 
 Must dine upon the other. 
 From this stanza on, the last three lines in 
 each verse coupled with the first 3 lines of the 
 following verse form the correct stanzas. See 
 bracket for example.