liiJiiiliM ome (^MuntrV COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. A LITTLE BOOK OF HOME AND COUNTRY VERSE BY JOHN ALBERT LEHMANN WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ALICE MAY SHRIVER PRIVATELY PRINTED BY THE EVANGELICAL press CLEVELAND, OHIO 1906 I OCT 8 1906 eopy 8 Copyright, 1906 BY John Albert Lehmann, Savannah, Ohio. TO MY MOTHER r-r''. r-\ There's a roaring in the distance, ^S^itli tempest clouds in sight! The timber snaps like kindling, And the sky is black as night! The lightnings flash! The thunders peal! There's trembling every-where— The mighty torrent is out-pouring All the clouds can spare — . There's contentment in the wood, And contentment in the field; And rejoicing in the brook. For the splendid vapor yield. The birds are full of music. And the air is full of cheer — The fields are full of flowers, And the sky is bright and clear; The creek is over-flowing. And I'm wading in the stream, — Away back there in the meadow — I'm back tJiere, in a dream! XIII SOME OF THE CONTENTS OF THIS LITTLE BOOK PAGE The Story of a Rural Ambition 29 Our Old Garden ■ . . . 89 When We Fished in Walnut Creek 58 Our Teetotaler , . 121^ She Hath Done What She Could 186 Bub 50 Tater Diggin ' 102 When Aunt Mary Lived With Us 73 Days Gone By 183 Our Big Newfoundland Pup 149 My Compensation 157 As They Used to Be 21 Battle Armor 65 Christmas Tide 182 Let the Sunshine In 48 He Will Fill Our World With Song 112 The Pilgrimage 155 A Great Artist 106 When the Bluebirds Come 47 A Kingly Patriarch 54 Old Deck 85 June 179 To Apollo 64 The 20th Century Pace 67 The Humming-Bird 84 Contents— Continued PAGE A November Coincident 161 Der Zauber-Trunk 57 Legal and Medical Cloth . 163 Melon-Time . 166 Truth 159 The Shepherd's Eealm 141 May 109 A Juvenile History op the Creation 113 Don't Forget the Boys and Girls 173 Strawberries an' Cream 86 A Jolly Little Rambler 185 The Serpent of the Cup 135 Colloquial 96 A Little Pear 69 The Professional Nurse 99 Little Giants 70 Spring Time 139 XVI A FEW OF THE PICTURES PAGE The Old Home— As It Used to Be 23 Their House Was But a Cabin, and the Outbuildings Shackled and Old 31 Just Me and Sister ^^Min" 59 And Helped Us Gather Hickory-Nuts 77 It Takes a Lot of Patience 98 We Broke Him in, Cradling Timothy Seed 125 The Shepherd is a Kindly, Thoughtful Man .... 143 A Nice, Sweet, Juicy Melcn in a Shady, Cool Retreat . 167 ^"^S^ XVII GO, ihou hits of rliyme, and speak of mcmonj^s mill; A)id if, percliance, an one should say thee ill — Tell liim, too, ivitli all ilnj faulls, Thou art tlie child of one who lores thee slill. A LITTLE BOOK OF HOME AND COUNTRY VERSE AS THEY USED TO BE BLOAY. ye gentle winds, the years softly blow throngii ; And carry me back to the scenes I once knew : To the hay-mows 'n sheds, where we played hide and seek— The bridge and the dam, where we fished in the creek— To the wagons and sleds — the guns and the tools. And the straw-stacks we'd slide, contrary to rules: To the old smoke-house, and bake oven hard by, "Where we ripened the bread, the cake and the pie ; To the orchard, strewn with its yellow and red— And the blossoms before them, hanging o'erhead; To the pasture lot, where the calamus growed With the flags and butter-cups, next to the road — 21 AS THEY USED TO BE Where I used to wander along the old stream, As I'm wand 'ring now, in a bare-footed dream— 'Mong daisies, dandelions, and golden-rod, Mingled with the clover, in the blue-grass sod; Past cat-tails and rushes, 'mongst snipes and kill-deers — Their wail-stricken notes still ring in my ears — To the old lone tree, where the hickory-nuts grew— And the old saw-mill, we used to scamper through, As the evening shadows, where the willows crossed, Went glim 'ring in distance, until they were lost. And I'm wishing too, as I never thought then, I could travel those fields all over again ; When old home-nooks and garden, I'd hope to see — Plainer yet than pictures— r/.s tJiey used to he. Blow, ye gentle winds, the years softly blow through; And tell me the tales that I once listened to : Tell of the fathers, who came over the sea, To build in the forest, unhampered and free — Of the pioneer homes, where they toiled and dwelt. And the rustic church altars, 'round which they knelt. And bring back to me now, those voices again. That told of the cabins, the soldiers and men— About Indians, deer, and game in the woods; 22 r-(?.<' AS THEY USED TO BE And trading corn and wheat, for nails and dry-goods. Yes ! tell me the stories. I so loved to hear. Away back "in the passing"— many a year. Blow, ye gentle winds, the years softly blow through; And whisper again of the joys I once knew— The pigeons, guinea pigs,— the little pet lamb. It still follows me now. wherever I am; And the little pet rabbits, I couldn't forget, Seem almost as near and as dear to me yet; AYhile "chums" I once knew, with strong heart and good Avill, As in days of my youth, oft visit me still : For 'tis friendships Ave've tried, and found to be true, That will cling to our lives, whatever Ave do. The little old chest, Avith its relics and toys — Seems packed full to this day. Avith pleasures and joys; While mirth, of past days, seems returning again. To pay interest uoav, on sports enjoyed then. But AA'hat are the thorns, bereft of the floAvers, Or a journey through life, Avith no pleasant hours? AYhen those happy hours, AAdiich the memory knoAA\s, Bring cheer to our lives, like the bloom to the rose. 25 AS THEY USED TO BE Blow, ye gentle winds, the years softly blow tlirough Take all of the tears and the sorrows I knew : Go bnry them well, and go l)nry them deep — Forever to rest in Eternity's sleep. Bnt the pleasures and joys, of youths' better part. Are sacred to my life and dear to my heart : Welcome them on. into Eternity's day.— Nurture them kindly all the journey and way. — AVater them freely with the dew of thy love — To blossom again, in the sarden above. 0, joyous Spring! Sweet goddess of the year! ^yJllJ haste thee onf AYliy not linger longer here? ^Ye haA^e come, Ijut a little ivhile to stay; ^Vhy not then remain, to cheer us all the wayf THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION ? 'T^ \\WS early iu the Spring of sixty-three, he staked A his little claim; lYJiic]), but an eighty acre lot. was interesting just the same. Pie had gone into a partnership, with the idol of his heart. And they settled on that little farm, each willing to do their part. Their house was but a cabin, and the out-buildings shackled and old : AYhen the frosts of winter came, they "d ' ' chink ' " the cracks to keep out the cold. It was a pleasant place to live, built out on the edge of a hill : Some forty rods from a country church— sixty, from an old saw mill. 29 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION They'd light from a cheerful blazing fire-place, with tal- low candles too; To help them "mend," and "patch," and knit, and spin— "the way they used to do." Those days, they'd "rag-sewings," and parties too, with "singing" now and then; And log-rollings and hiisking-bees, where women oft out-did the men. But they had started in to build a home, with money rather sliort; And but few conveniences and tools, of the very cheap- est sort. They denied themselves many a want, living plainly as they could. Hoping sometime, to have plenty, and enjoy life as peo- ple should. Though they'd scant supplies of furniture, they'd lots of courage and pluck; And Heaven somehow, kindly blessed them, with a right good share of luck. 30 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION All of their plans made lots of work, which kept him mainly out of doors: And during" the busy seasons, she'd always help do up the chores. He fixed a lane down to the spring, and made a new watering trough : And split some rails, and built some fence, meanwhile clearing some timber oif. He planted an orchard, and built some sheds, and hauled a lot of stone: Besides attending the season's crops, and their harvest- ing, when grown. Sometimes, when his farming would permit, he would deal in stock a spell: For those were old time civil war days, when most any- thing would sell. When horses would get a little dull, he would speculate in sheep : And quite often the bunch that would go, was the flock he'd thought to keep. 33 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION And though they had gone quite deep in debt, they fin- ally cut their way Right through the mists of poverty's woods, out into the open day. But it's singular how a little success fosters one's am- bitions, And widens out to-morrow's plans, in spite of to-day's conditions : Yet, somehow, while they had worked hard, and suc- ceeded with crops they'd sown. They kind of "got set" on land that joined 'em, they thought they'd like to own. So they sold that little farm, with some grain and stock and tools on hand; And bought the old family homestead, with twice the 'mount of work and land. It was like starting new again, with a great big burden of debt; But they both were energetic, and worked from morn till sun would set. 34 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION And they economized and saved, till they'd redeemed their mortgage notes, And had gotten the farm Avell stocked, with horses, cattle, sheep and shotes. They fixed np fences and buildings, and bought some furniture and tools; And made things nice and homelike, so's to work by more convenient rules. And Heaven sent children into their home, with cheer their hearts to fill; Making a lot of care and trouble, as children most al- ways will. Those years were fraught with anxieties — some serious illness too; And with much of grief and worry, which only God and parents knew. But trials and self-denials should leave us stronger for their test; And point us along lifers pathway, toward the things that's for the best. 35 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION And they labored earnestly, to bring up their children trne and good: Seeking, in all things, their best welfare, as they felt that parents shonld. They both agreed, that none should e'er have cause to say that they had shirked: And that their children ne'er should toil, through all the hardships they had worked. Forgetting, that in fortune huikling is tlie way theit men are inade : And tliat one can't huild for others, more than they, eyes or ears, could trade. That earning one's own tread, 'bequeaths appreciation of its worth: That wealth of fare, unearned, cannot strengthen by any law on earth. That moral worth, set in wisdom's shrine, ivith a faith and courage strong. Are the world's most precious gifts, which to edl true sons of toil belong. 36 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION It's sing'lar too. liow one's ambition will pull up in the collar, When he takes to widening out his land, and saving every dollar. And it Ix'iud of shuts our best world out. to ''get set" OH moneyed things; And denies us the greater pleasures. wJiich life's true enjoyment brings . But he 'd lots of stock, and crops were good, with money and notes on hand, And. had been rapidly acqiring, a general taste for land. So they bought back again that eighty, where they'd started in, in life: And later, one hundred twenty more, with some trou- ble and some strife. He scraped up, to meet this last contract, all the dow)i money he could: Adding a six thousand dollar mortgage, to make the balance good. 37 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION The land had been neglected, and he'd bargained for a heap of work; But that he regarded little, for 'twas a thing he'd never shirk. He was always planning ahead, as he said, for the rainy days ; But clouds loom up when we least expect, and oft from opposite ways. And mixed up with his problems, about fences, stock, and notes, and land; There was one he proved unable to solve, of qnite a different brand. He'd gotten kind of all run down, and contracted a ling 'ring cough. Doctors said, "he must take a vacation, and take it now — right off. ' ' They said, that "he had worked too hard, and too con- tinuous and long;" That "he'd have broken sooner, had his constitution not been strong." 38 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION ""He'd a worry weighted heart, with torpid liver an' coated tongue"— ""And that the general effect of this, had settled on his lung." They said, thej^ thought the mountain air, of Colorado, 'd make him well; That the beauties of that country, there wasn't a pen nor tongue could tell. And some thought the coast would do him good, where the air was balm and free; That 'twould be nice to sit and listen, to God's music in the sea. They all agreed that he needed rest, and that it would- n't pay to wait; That fare and costs in traveling, were much cheaper than grave-yard rate. For there's no rule to estimate the value of one's life and health; They're things that can't he measured, hy the world's accumidated wealth. 39 7 HZ STiJRT OF A RURAL AMBITIOX And with your health, you're better off, if you don't otcn a peck of oats. Than he. who's slipping in the grave, with fortunes wrapped in land and notes. Opportunities, like measles, come and &) — they don't go and come : And oft we do not see them, till they've got some dis- tance off from home. He could find no way of leaving, so many things had to be done; To leave home in his condition, he thought he had some risk to mn. Ai :l - LLr friendly advisers thouirht. if he'd quit work^ the time would come. When he would be a good bit stronger, by staying right there at home. That he could sort of oversee, and know how things were going on: And save himself some extra worry, he might have, if he were gone. 40 THE ST^JRT OF A RURAL. AMBITION But this sitting around and watching, and being con- tented too. Whilst your affairs go on by proxy, is a thing most men can't do. And as time passed by, lie foimd himself ^raduallT growing weaker: TVith his congh becoming more hollow, and quite a good bit deeper. Tis sad- that faithful toilers shonld break down under burdens of debt: But 'tis a road, long been well traveled. — many are travling it yet. With ambition, 'tis hard to determine one's true meas- ure of strength: For a chain shows its wtak Uni:s, only when stretched beyond its full length. Hopeful enterprises strengthen, building up courage and power: While the hopeless, discouraging task, weakens its bearer each hour. 4" THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION And those hurdens of choice, which in health, he found so easily borne. Hmig now. like clouds of oppression, of their oncf at- tractiveness shorn. Sometimes, he'd hum a little tune, with words that end with "Gates Ajar:" And speak of One. who'd make a death-bed. soft as downy pillows are. And when he would speak of leaving, upon his cheek there 'd rest a tear: For he said. Heaven "d been good to him. during the years he'd spent here. One day. along quite late in March, he said he thought he'd live till ^May: But the angels came that veiy evening, and took him right away. And the ambitious soul, of a brave, courageous life, well striven. Returned to its Creator, from whom it's faith and hope were given. 42 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION That Mother, with her children, struggied on that farm for many years; With land and crops, and diff'rent kinds of stocky 'gainst mortgage notes and tears. And they worked together in that home, as if planted there to stay; Till they'd nndermined those mortgage notes, and cleared all their debts away. And while their fortunes were doubtless changed, bear- ing burdens on them laid, And solving problems, not their own, to work out plans by others made; Yet. those years bequeathed them training, in courage, industry, and thrift : Which, in the world's industrial highway, is not a pur- chased gift. What the world would mean ivithout ambition, is diffi- cult to say; Though, 'twould o'erturn our civilization, to take it all away. 43 THE STORY OF A RURAL AMBITION In adding columns of figures, you'll notice ciphers do not count; That it's the greater digits, which most increase the final amount. And whilst some virtues may be spread too thick, like plaster on the wall; They're far better in abundance, than not to have of them at all. But of last results, be they great or small, there's only God can tell, — Yet, we are all promised credit, concerning things which we've meant well. 44 THE lily looks up to catch the dew,— A lesson in life for me and you; Heaven's rich hlessings are free to all, Beady to receive them as they fall. WHEN THE BLUE-BIRDS COME THERE'S music in the timber, And the buds are swelling some: And everything is happy — — When the Blue-birds come. The Guinea-hen's rejoicing 'Cause the Winter's fairly past; While the turkey-cock's admiring The shadow he can cast. The ducks and geese are counting On a heavy season 's crop ; And the maple sap's flowing, As if it couldn't hardly stop. The chip-munk's 'bout as jolly As a Bob-o-link in June; The Pheasant's drumming to the "twitter" Of the Blue-bird's tune: 46 WHEN THE BLUE-BIRDS COME The Robin likes the country, And he's ,'^:ettled down to stay, And the Sap-sucker's busy Every hour of the day. There's music in the timber, And the buds are swelling some And everything- is happy— — When the Blue-birds come. /• t'^- 47 LET THE SUNSHINE IN OXTR everyday ills and aches and pains, "We should learn to bear alone: The world has no time to be bothered; It's got troubles of its own. To salute our neighbor with the blues, Isn "t just quite the thing to do : When, perhaps, he's got some vexation. That's piercing his heart most through Opening our windows tow'rd heaven. And letting the sunshine in; WiU make us more cheerful and happy. Than we otherwise, have been. Distributing kindly words and deeds. To relieve another's pain: Like the bread, which, cast upon waters. Will return to us again. 48 LET THE SUNSHINE IN Comforting the sad and afflicted, TV ill lighten our owti heart's care; Filling life's spirit with hopefulness. Drives away clouds that are there. A thoughtful charity in our hearts. Will brighten our lives and face; And the smiles and blessings it bequeathes, Will help fill the world Avith grace. 49 ''BUB" IT'S singular how there's times in life When our given names don't fit; An' nick-names we git at school, Er 'mongst our chums, pass with better wit. When nom-de-plumes applied to "shavers," Like this youngster at my knee, Suit quite as well as the "grown-up" titles Of high society. An' I look back now through the years — To the time when I was "Bub," An' tripped across the meadow thistles — Er give my toe a stub, To head a flock of sheep, er bunch of cattle, Er a calf, er pig — Whilst the man that owned 'em, stood the Crossin's, an' drove the horse an' rig. 50 How we wouldn't more'n git past the corner, 'Till he'd spy a gap er gate; ^'Skip 'round 'em "Bub" — be quick, git to movin' "Afore you be too late." An' when we had got 'em where he'd want 'em, Er at the journey's end, He'd give me a nickle, er quarter. An' a first-class recommend. Then, sometimes, folks would say, "here Bub's" An apple, er cookie, fer you; Er else a picture-card, er piece of pie, Er a doughnut er two. An' once a big stock dealer give me a lamb — An' didn't charge a cent; Whilst other folks come along an' got lambs, They paid fer 'fore they went. Another time a city doctor, Who'd come out to see the sick, Handed me a nickle, sayin' "Here Bub — open the gate right quick." 51 An' while that's been many years, An' 'twas fifteen rods out to the gate, I remember well his compliment, Fer he didn't have long to wait. An' I was glad to see him come; I liked him then, an' alwaj'^s will,— Though all the nickles he paid me, Each made him a five-dollar bill. It's singnlarjfoo, how nickles then, Were greater than eagles now; An' kindly words an' compliments, Equal to honors kings allow. An' I still tJiink, as I've often thought — While time's been pasing on. That the world's lots bigger while we're "Bub. Than when we are Pete an' John. An' I'd be content, could I boast the wealth I had when I was "Bub"— With just a nickle sal'ry, now an' then, Besides my clothes an' grub. 52 BE clieey^ful, helpful and ever true, The journey through; Making life and eternity long, One grand sweet song. A KINGLY PATRIARCH THE oak is great, 'mongst forest trees, - He stands above them high; With kingly grace his out-stretched arms, Doth reach up toward the sky. In root-hold grasp and giant strength, No other tree compares, — His leafy branch o'er shadows all, With bounteous crops he bears. By nature's plan, he doth provide, A harbor shelter good. For many birds and animals, In search of home and food. To human will he meekly bows, A servant kindly true ; Doing in industry and art, What others fail to do. 54 A KINGLY PATRIARCH His tensile strength and quality, With lasting power great — Makes of him a burden bearer, In every Land and State. In texture, beauty and finish, His peer hath not been found; The pride of art, 'mongst men of marque, In state the world around. Pie upholds the mightiest craft. The ocean can afford; And "bluffs" the angry tempest, AVith a thousand men aboard. He's a mine of wealth in the woods, Our , commerce doth attest ; Like the gold that's in the rocks, In the mountains of the West. I love his splendid presence. He's the forest monarch strong; I wish that he might still remain. Through all the ages long. 55 A KINGLY PATRIARCH 'Tis sad to see him passing, Like a vet-ran pioneer; Oh! would that he might talk of scenes, Since first he settled here; If he could tell what's taken place. In the years lie's come through; And recall the incidents. Of a Century or Two — I think we'd all enjoy to hear, The tales he might relate; Explaining how our country grew, From wilderness to state. 56 DER ZAUBER TRUNK AS I watched the kettle boil at twilight, And saw the vapor rise ; There appeared the ideal of my heart, In the mist before my eyes. With thrills of joy my heart strings tinkled; At last, I had found my own : But lo ; how quickly gone ! just a myth ! I was sitting there alone ! 57 WHEN WE FISHED IN WALNUT CREEK TF I'd my choice of times to live again, and had to make it quick; I'd go right back to those happy days, when we fished in Walnut Creek. For fishing in that old stream was sport, — not all brag- gin' and expense; Where the number and size of 'Svhales" we could see, simply was immense. Where the fish would bite, when signs were right, morn- ing, noon or anytime; And the season's tackle all combined, would not cost a. single dime. 58 WHEN WE FISHED IN WALNUT CREEK A willow sprout,— a cotton string, — some angie worms, —an old bent pin; And we'd sit down there on the bridge, and fish, — just me and sister "Min." We wouldn't more'n get started, till they'd begin to circle 'round and shine; Just a kind o' sort of courtin' us, to throw in our bait and line. But the biggest ones in all the bunch would stay down on the bottom; And we'd bait right up close to 'em— but 'way they'd "skip"— we hadn't got 'em. 0-o-oh got a bite ! pull quick ! see what a ' ' lunker ' ' ! 0-oh-h-h he "slipped the pin;" And the biggest fish we got that day, was the one that fell back in. I've fished up 'mong the lakes and streams, for pick'rel, bass, musk-longe and trout; And more than once surprised the campers, with weights o'er scales they couldn't doubt. 6i WHEN WE FISHED IN WALNUT CREEK And I have tested fancy territory, bragged 'bove all the rest; With all the signs 'bout bait and tackle— what and when they 11 bite the best : But I've not since found the fish so large, nor quite so anxious and thick ; As they were some thirty years ago, when we fished in Walnut Creek. .^^ 62 "LET cliarity begin at ]iome'' Is good sound doctrine everywhere: But charity soon gets dull at home, ^Yhen it always — stays — rigJit — there. TO APOLLO WHAT causes grass to grow, and don such splendid hue? What makes the vapor rise, and then descend in dew? Who bids the flowers bloom, with stores of Nectar sweet? Who fills the husk and chaff, with grains of corn and wlieat? Who paints the rainbow tints, so pure and true and bright? Who bids the stars to sparkle, with their brilliant light? I begged "The Gods" explain; by myth or code or dream: The modest Moon replied; — '' 'Tis the merrv Sunbeam/' 64 BATTLE ARMOR THE keys to heaven God puts in your hands, They're worth more than jewels, or bonds, or lands ; The Pearls they unlock are borne from above, They are Kindness, Gentleness. Truth and Love. The first of these keys is Faith in God 's law ; From this, springs Hope, which Avill constantly draw Your courage tow'rd levels of strength and pow'r, And conquer trials in life's darkest hour. They'll fill your life full, with sunshine and grace, That will help to brighten the saddest face. They will help you to feel another's woes, With Christlike sympathy that ever grows. They'll build you a world 'mong the great and strong, And friends you can "count on" your whole life long; Of joijs and griefs in the throng of life's day. They will keep good safe, and drive bad away. 65 liATTI.E ARIVKJR They'll fill your life's journey with pleasant hours, And strew your pathway with music and flow'rs. In the 'Afternoon', Avhen time is more fleet, They'll crown your life-work with contentment sweet. Then, in the 'Twilight,' when the battle's done, And the long promised vic-try's clearly won; Those keys in your hands— the greatest is Love, Will o'liide vou safe to the Heaven above. 66 THE 20th CENTURY PACE PEOPLE hustle now-a-days, As if they hadn't long to stay; And had only come to see, How soon they could get away. They keep about as busy, As the chipmunks in the fall; When gath'ring up the beach-nuts, 'Round the trees that's thick and tall. Pretty soon the tvinter comes, — Some, haven't time to make a will: But the world keeps grinding on, 'Tis civilization's mill. 67 ^^ '4M,-: ^/>///-<^',^^i^ A LITTLE PEAR A LITTLE yellow pear, Was hanging rather low When Willie spied it there, His mouth, it watered so. The doctor done his best, The neighbors all allow, — Willie is now at rest, His mouth don't water now. In the little church-yard, They filled a little pit; And left a vacant chair. Where Willie used to sit. And by that little pear. There's none can ever say,— How mucli of grief and care, Willie escapes to-day. 69 LITTLE GIANTS THE drops of dew 'bring to the rose, A fragrant cheer untold; Supplying want, which Heaven knows, Could not he bought witli gold. The spa)-Jili)ig rain-drop, spent in steam, Doth lift the greatest weight; It drives the wheels on land and stream. And moves the ocean's freight. A little moral courage pure. In tense affairs of life; Will oft win fortune's cause secure, 'Gainst wealth of arms in strife. Smiles, from a kindly heart and face, With piirpose nobly true; Will oft accomplish in life's race, What science fails to do. 70 LITTLE GLVXTS The tender word, wliich love imparts, In spirit thought fid pure; Will oft heal wounds and broken hearts, Whicli doctors fail to cure. The music in a chilcVs sweet voice, Hath strength the stoutest own; It makes the weary to rejoice. And melts the heart of stone. A friend of mine, 'calls' oft in June. — So polite: Sometimes, betwixt the Sun and Moon, — "Bout twilight : ^A'histlinii' that old familiar tune, —Bob. Bob. AYhitel WHEN AUXT MARY LIVED WITH US Y ES, Aunt ]\Iary. when you lived with us. I have often thought : ^S'e'd lots of splendid times, come free, we could have no wav bouo'ht. But we didn't realize it then, the same as we do now — A\"earing smiles and beams of joy. 'stead of furrows in our brow. For those were days when we were young— we were but children then; Time slips by more quickly now. since we are women and men. 73 WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US And pleasures we loved once, with thinp^s that seemed so good alway, Perhaps we wouldn't appreciate, had we them here to- day. But little kindly words and deeds, which in our ivay are cast, Taste forever sweet and good, from our first day to our last. And though many years have flown, since we all to- gether dwelt, At the old family homestead, and 'round the same alter knelt : The mem'ry of those good old days, it seems can't leave my heart; With all their scenes of life we played, in which you took a part. Those days in which we children all, were chiefly good or bad; And when we would not keep the rules, you'd help us wish we had. 74 WHEX AUXT MARY LR^ED WITH US Yet. when we'd get in mischief, you'd deal kindly as yon conld ; And when we Averen't vSO very bad. you'd say we had been good. AYhen you Avere niakine pictures and distrilniting the paint. You'd keep ils ottt of colors, by consider 'ble restraint. Then you'd take >onie tissue paper and teach us Iioaa' to draAA'. According to some junior methods in artistic laAv. Yoti'd help us Avitli our school AA'ork. and take interest in otir games : Yoti'd solve our hardest problems, and pronounce the big long names. And Avhen some misdemeanor would develop in a fuss. You'd advance .some proposition, protecting each of us. 75 WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US Then yoii taught us how to sew, and many another thing; And helped us gather hickory nuts— and, coming home, you'd sing. But I sometimes think, perhaps, your greatest disap- pointment. Was over efforts teaching us, manners and deportment. When we'd gather corn and apples, you'd help do up the chores; And you always kept things cheerful, both in and out of doors. And once you came in from milking, splashed all over, somehow, And said you'd had some trouble with "that spotted kicking cow." Then one day we'd a runaway— the team ran down a hill, And dumped us along the commons; — it seemed a dread- ful spill. 76 WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US The carriage was completely wrecked — we got an awful fright ; And while some were badly injured, we all ''slipped through quite light." At times you'd show us how to do some things we'd never learned ; Like snuffing candles quick, hy hand — I got my fingers burned. And one time we had a party — 'twas on a Winter night ; You surprised us playing ghost, in a room with shaded lio'ht. You'd remember us at Christmas, and other holidays; And send us little presents, and were kind in many ways. And your thoughtful interest did not end with Christ- mas eve— But kept right on, through-out the year,— it never seemed to leave. 79 WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US Sometimes we'd go up to the woods — Ave thought it quite a charm; To play 'round those fine fountains — the pride of Spring Valley Farm. We would gather leaves in Autumn, and flowers in Spring-time ; And study nature's harmony, when written most sub- lime. And there is a host of other things, which I now re- call; Among them some, Avhich ink and paper, won't convey at all. A few are Avrapped in memories, I somehow cannot tell- From dreams of the old homestead, you may glean them - quite as well. But we'll someday meet together— I can't just now say when — We'll hold a family reunion, and talk things over then. 80 WHEN AUNT MARY LIVED WITH US And HOW, may heaven rich blessings, on all your life bestow ; And in kindness, grace and truth, may you continue to OTOW — Eight on, through all the years, unto the evening of life. Till the victorv is in view, near the end of the strife. Then, like a pilot of ocean with the dangers all past, And your ship nearing the haven, with your crew safe at last,— You'll find, when well anchored, and call the roll of all aboard; That you've a great host of friends, who'll rejoice with one accord. But in taking an invoice, of the goods you've carried through. You'll find some incidents and things, you can't set value to; 8i Vv'nEX AUXT MARY LIVED WITH L"S And iu your general smnniing np — in my account and bill; Keep careful record of the gooeJ, but cancel out the ill. Then, at the final reckoning, when e'er that time shall be: May Heaven kindly deal with you, as you have dealt with me. 82 Some say, "There's fortune in the Moon," Because it shines at night; That one should see it when it's new, And gives a crescent light: And that the luck then much depends, Upon the line of sight. You laugh, and say— "Nothing in it"— "But superstitious blight;" Yet you'll somehow, feel the better, To see it on the rigJU. THE HUMMING BIRD THERE'S mnsic near my window - And I answer on tip-toes : It's a meri*y little hiimmine-bii'd, Tisitins: a rose. It Lives among the dowers. And it thrives on neetar sweet : Eor its little throat's too dainty To swallow corn and wheat. I can't tell jnst why it is. Bnt I've thought abont it some — Why other pretty birds can sing. While it can only hiun. I listen to its miLsic. And I wish 't would stay for hours It seems so like an angel. Around amone the :dowers. 84 It l^-^ OLD "DECK" OLD "Deck" was always g'ood and true, a tried and trusty friend; With courage strong for any task, and faithful to the end. He helped to build my sheds and barns, —the farm's main-stay each year: Can I deny him in old age, a well earned bounty here? Shall I turn him now to market, for paltry bits of cash? To be enslaved in feeble years. beneath the cruel lash? I'll deal with him as seemeth just — as kindly as I can; For there's sense of heart and feeling, in brute as well as man. 85 STRAWBERRIES AN' CREAM WHEN the Creator made the berries, and had finished all the rast; He carefully looked them over, concluding He hadn't done his best. So He picked out all the virtues, of the whole promiscuous batch ; And just combined them "snug" in one, without a single thorn or scratch. He gave it lovely color, with a taste and size that can't be beat; A splendid acid and aroma, mixed with lots of juicy sweet. Then He gave it special preference, and brought it early as he could; When He thought we would most appreciate a berry that was good. You may talk about confection goods — all you can draw with a team ; I'd rather have a half a quart of nice ripe strawberries an' cream. 86 STRAWBERRIES AN CREAM You can eat them at any time, and always rest at perfect ease ; And as many as you've room for, and then digest them when you please. They go right well, when made in pies, jell, canned, short-cake, or taken " straight. '^ I'rom the ' ' earliest of the season, ' ' to the last of the ''real late." When sick or well, at meal or lunch, they are a safe and healthful food; And although they might have been made better, I don't see how they could. It always made my mouth water, to see the season coming on ; And I'd feel so sort of sad like, when I would find that it had gone. And I used to sometimes think, as I 'd wonder how Heaven might seem ; That I, for one'd, be satisfied, if they'd plenty straivherries an^ cream. 87 OUR OLD GARDEN ?nnWAS all laid out old fashioned like, with middle ■i- foot paths, crossed both ways; And the beds raised up with flowers 'long the paths, way they were those days. I think about three rods by five, with a hop pole at one corner ; And some currants, and some gooseberries, around the outside border: And some sweet Catawba grapes, which, 'fore they were ripe, we often tried; With a couple of little plum trees, over on the other side. 'Bout garden truck, I mind but little, 'cept we'd every- thing that's good— Of all the kinds 'twer up to date, and growed 'em thrifty as we could. 89 OUR OLD GARDEN But gard'nin* time. I haven't forgot — keepin' out cliiek- eus— anyhow: And I think I"d buy my garden truck, were I keepin* chicken^- now. %.v-Vr'/V'' For there's somethin' "hout a garden bed — I've noticed -^— tmie and agani.— It's the most attractive spot on earth, to an enter- prizin* hen. Tet there's always things that's bright, ling'ring^ "round onr meditative hours : And when I think of our old garden, it's those old- fashioned flowers. Near the path, right at the center. Avas that old spiky Yncca plant : And another kind, all full of "sticker-;." I'd like to name— bnt can't. Among the earlies. was '" Belle of the Alps"— splittin' ground like a wedge : And a lot of little Crocuses, "long the path, close to the edge. 90 OUR OLD GARDEN And when it came to early risin', other flowers had no show ; They'd display their colors first, if they had to stand Tight in the snow. There was every kind of Hyacinths — I always '' banked" on them: With Easter flowers and Tiger Lilies and Stars of Beth- lehem. There were lots of Tnlips, of the finest, I've seen none since so nice : They'd descended from some in Holland, that had sold for awfnl price. We'd Sweet AVilliams, Johnny- Jump-ups, and Jacob 's- Ladder by the fence ; With lots of great big Holly-hocks, and when they bloomed, they were immense. But one thing I didn't care for most the time, was our old Lilac bnsh; Yet, for about three weeks in the Spring, those Lilacs were "in the push." 9« OUR OLD GARDEN We'd striped Grass, Alpine Stars, and great big Flags, pretty as they grew; And I think our Peona's were as large, as any I ever knew. Our Lily of the Valley was ever a favorite with me : 'Twas so sweet and gracefully modest, and blessed with humility. We'd Roses and Sweet Peas and Carnations, and Morn- ing Glories too; With Violets, and double Petunias— finer ones never grew. And when we'd visit that Violet bed, so decked with pure and sweet, We 'd feel as though we had met a friend, we for months had longed to meet. There was a host of other kinds, from Poppies to For- get-me-not : Including Asters, Dahlias, and King's Crown, and some that I've forgot. 9^ OUR OLD GARDEN And Avhile there are a few new f angled kinds, that's nice and last for hours; — For good, sound, true, wearing quality— stick to old- fashioned flowers. Those old time gardens are 'bont all gone, by some thirty years at best; And the Queens of toil who tilled them, have mostly reached their final rest. Yet I fancy now in their sleep, they'll glean dreams from mem'ry's lardens; ]\Iaking many pleasant journeys, 'long the paths in their old gardens. And were I to plan a paradise, with all things as I'd propose ; I'd seed it down to Lily of Yalley, with now and then a rose. I'd have some yards of Hyacinths, and some beds of violets too ; With Tulips and Carnations, and lots more, I 'spect, 'fore I'd get through. 93 OUR OLD GARDEN I'd have beautiful vines and trees, ^vith ])looming shrubs and lots of birds; And fill it with rapturesome sight and song, one can't describe in words. Then, to the graduated ones of earth. I'd give invitation; To make my garden their headquarters, in times of re- creation. For there's oue thing I'd mudi desire, though I don't quite know how to tell— That those faithful toilers sometimes see the flowers thev've loved so well. ^ l) JA- -"I 9V Good stories and jokes often help in their way, To lighten our burdens on a busy day; But contemptible thrusts, like wild oats, bring care To their sower, who will reap the larger share. COLLOQUIAL SELF-CONTROL is the key To all successful conquest: To THINK, SPEAK and ACT, In regular order ^ is best. Though nature provides round trips, For venturesome young birds, Heaven itself, can't return Our hasty, unwise words. Harsh words beget anger; They are destructive powers: While kindliness builds friendship. And soothes in bitter hours. No demand is so urgent. Nor is time e'er so fleet: Nor conditions so tense. But that it pays to "keep sweet." 96 M Iv.-^- '-' THE PROFESSIONAL NURSE THIS takmo: care of sick folks, Isn 't an easy thing to clo : For it's a life of labor And self sacrifice, all tli rough. Sometimes things go 'long real nice, Then again, they go all ivroncj: One day, your patient's better, And the next— not quite so strong. And mixed np with your worry. There's a 'bnnch' of things to do; Requiring tact and genins, And some good religion too. It takes a lot of patience, And a right good bit of strength ; And nice supplies of courage. To hold out the full year's length. 99 THE PROFESSIONAL XURSE There's oilier "callings/ trying; Some, in this respect, are worse: But it taJi'ts a lot of grace, To rnal'i a real gooeJ nurse. — And, methinks. at judgment day. AYlien we're called to — "pay our fare That nurses should get in free. And receive the best that's there. For of (/// the folks I know. ']\Iong the small, or 'mong the great There's none that's mo)'e deserving. Of a '"pass" through heaven's gate. I WATCHED a brilliant, falling star; 'Tis said, ''They sometimes foretell war." It burst o'erhead, when tree-top high; 'Twas late at eve, 4th of July. 'TATER DIGGIN' J DON'T mind the plantin' of 'em, * ner fittin' up the ground; But the thing I dread the most, is when diggin' time comes 'round. I kind o' like to hoe 'em, when the ground's nice an' meller, An' the rows all blossomed out, in white, an' pink an' yeller— But when they're starvin' in the weeds, er loaded down with bugs, It's a business proposition, er a pound er two o' drugs. I don't mind the Colorado's, they 're slow, most half asleep ; It's them old-fashioned runnin' kind, that comes in droves like sheep. Pizen haint much 'feet on them, more'n to stimulate 'em some — So's them that's here to-day, don't leave much fer what's yit to come. I02 TATER DIGGIN Lime an' insect powder, 'pears only sharpens up their claws ; An' paris-green, jist seems to ile an' limber up their jaws. You've got to git a bunch o' weeds, er broom, er old shot-gun, An' git up some excitement, when they'll soon be on the run. Then plough a furrie, er sprinkle kerosene 'round the lot ; 'Twont always keep 'em back, fer they kin fly, as well as trot. But when you're rid of bugs an' weeds, your 'tater crop's all right— 'Till they take to dwindlin' down, as if 'fected with th' blight. Then's when I'd like to go on a picnic er excursion; Er to a circus, er a fair, jist fer a diversion. But pap's "made out" they're ripe, an' he's startin' in to dig 'em; An' I've a wooden bucket, fer I'm the chap's to pick 'em. 103 TATER DIGGIX' He's fearin' too. 'bout sigiLs o' rain — tlio" not a clond in sight: Savin' ■" 'twould never do to risk the 'taters out at night : ' ' An" nrgin' me to hiLstle. "the sooner done, the quicker:" But never says a word. 'bont ha^-in' another picker. An' keeps right on a diggin'. like a beaver in the Fall: Givin' me no ghost of chance. to ever ketch np at all. The patch is mostly clear of filth. jist here an" there a weed: Er a tickle gra.ss er fox tail, a hangin" ont to seed. But it seems good bit wider. an' the rows most twice as long: As they were at plantin' time. — er when the bugs wuz gone. An* there's 'taters 'mongst the clods. an' pebbles in my boots— An' some's all full o' knots. an' others hangin' by the roots. 104 TATER DIGGIX^ An" fer every six er eight. that's nice, an" smooth, an" big, There's twice as many "little rats', it hardly pays to dig. Sometimes it's nice to have ''full swing' Christmas time I "d riither ; But when "tater-diggin" comes. I wish I had a brother. I don't mind the plantin" of "em. ner fittin " np the ground : But the thing I dread the most. is when disffin' time comes "round. \\/^^v I OS A GREAT ARTIST THERE 'S an artist at my window, Whose given name's "Jack Frost"; He's making prett}^ pictures, And lie makes them free of cost. Sometimes he's making clouds and stars; Again it 's plants and trees : And I think he makes the finest ferns. One most ever sees. He works them up from out -lines. And he makes them clear and true; And he seems to work so easy. And oft' right speedy too. He don't dabble with the brush — To make his work look right; In various mixed-up colors. But sticks right down to white. And he's got a reputation. One might be proud to own; As the greatest window artist, The world has ever known. k6 I CAST a loaf upot the sea — 'Ticas quickly swept away; And I wondered ivJiere that loaf might he, At the close of day. At eventide, I stood at shore,— Recounting the joy and pain; ^yhen, full measure, to my hand, — and more, That loaf returned again. MAY THERE is a happy lot of birds and bees, Singing and bnzzing in the apple trees; Their tongnes are laden with mirth and honey, While the farmer's talk is "full of money—" He ploughs and cultivates and plants his best, And good dame nature kindly does the rest. The season's' crawled out of its Winter's sleep, And seems wading in health, clear up, chin deep ; She has renewed her youthfulness again, And's more lib'ral with sunshine, dew and rain; While stretching the days to a greater length. She's feeding all things on vigor and strength; The leaves, that's been unfolding in the woods, Are shining bright and clean as brand new goods. 109 MAY The wood-chuck, that's now so sleek and so gay, Makes more shadow 'n he did on ground-hog day; The snickering squirrels skip o'er the logs, Merry and chipper as the meadow frogs; The wood-pecker's diggin' with all his might. To secure a location out of sight- While the robin's warbling his level best, To encourage his mate that's on the nest. Geese, that's claimed the barn all Winter, 's forgot, Id 'ling away time in the pasture lot. The rooster 's more early, 'n lots more to say. And crow's twice as often every day. Things are full of mischief — chuck full of fun. From the chip-munk to suckers in the "run" — For it's the jolly month of May, you see. And everything's happy as it can be. WOULD you wi)i in conflict, earth's ricli rewards, And he successful in tlie strife? Be prompt and thorough and systematic, In every affair of life. HE WILL FILL OUR WORLD WITH SONG ALL of our trials and sorrows, Our little mistakes, and their tears — The hopes and ambitions blighted, We've cherished and nourished for years- The little griefs and disappointments. Which seem so hard to forget — Take them all— to the Fountain of Grace; It never has failed lis yet. The little keen annoyances. With all their pains and heartaches now- And the little vexing discords. Which deepen the lines in our brow^ — Why not leave them all with the One, Who is ever willing and strong? He will tune our hearts to nature's music, And fill our woiid with song. A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION \ ^ / HEN all the elements were free, and roaming' wild aronnd in space; The Creator organized a plan, to bring them all in place.— A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION There was nothing then to pattern from, for everything: was raw; So He started systematic, and kept his boolvs by natural law. He mapped out His own curriculum, and begun things right away; — With hiin, a day was but a moment, and a thousand years a day. TheUj He figured out some formulae based on rules He'd studied well; And experimented making spheres, — just how long, I cannot tell. Of these. He made a multitude, with variations of the rule : And polished most of them like diamonds, but kept one. for His foot-stool. Those He had brightened, He stationed apart, some distance off in space; — And started them revolving 'round, with lawful, systematic grace. 1.14 A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION At once, there sprung up rivalry, 'mongst these spheres for admiration; And those that could outshine the rest, ranked of course, in higher station. A favored one outshone them all, and the Creator named him Sun; And He bade all the rest show him respect, in all their journey's run. The most of them He called planets ; some favored few got special names— The little ones He called his stars, and gave them space to play their games. Then, He issued special orders, that Sun, by day, should give the light; And He told the rest, if they'd keep the rule, that they might shine at night. He gave his foot-stool special preference, and named it Mother earth; And said, that while she dressed quite plain, they'd all appreciate her worth. '15 A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION He told them all about his plan, that each of them should help along; That here on Earth He'd build a world, and intended to build it strong. Sun boiled the water in the Sea, and carried it over the land; And, with other agents helping, began converting rocks to sand. The Creator sent the sand to valleys, and mixed it with the clay; And begun general farming, in his own good natural way. He sowed broad-cast some grain and nuts, — and various kinds of seeds: Part grew up to useful plants and trees, others merely came to weeds. There were some that seemed to grow the best, in a cold and dreary spot; — While others flourished in a climate, that was mostly damp and hot. Tl6 A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION He made all the plants and trees, in as many sizes as he could; A few, he made for ornament, but most of them, he made for food. And he filled the world with animals, of every form and size: The most of them could see or walk — a few, that had no leg's nor eyes. Many he made to live in water, whether fresh or salt or stale ; From the minutest little wiggler, to the biggest kind of whale. A few, he made to creep on land; others, so they could walk about : There Avere some quite wee and feeble ; a few were very large and stout. Some he made to fly in the air, and live in rocks and crag's and trees; Adapted to all kinds of climate, from the mountains to the seas. 117 A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION A few of these he attired in colors, quite beautiful and grand; Some, for protection, he dressed more plain, — color of the rocks and land. 'Mongst all his animal creations, of each kind he made a pair; And gave to them their special names, and blessed them with his kindly care. He started all the animals, on a scientific ration; Some lived on meat from others, but most of them on vegetation. And he planned things so that neither kind, could monopolize the earth; — When one would get a bit ahead, he soon could check them with a dearth. And though He'd gotten things well started, He hadn 't quite finished his plan : So combining genius with experience, He made the species ma?i. ii8 A JL^TEXILE HISTORY OF THE CREATIOX Naming the man pair Adam and Eve, He placed them in His garden: Under rules and regulations, in charge of the gen'ral warden. To accomodate his animals. He made one general rule — That if they weren't pleased where it was warm. they might go where it was cool. Where their legs and necks were too short. He gradually made them longer: And fixed things so the young and weak, were protected by the stronger. A few odd vspecial ones. He found too slow to keep up in the race : So he planned ahead for others, to some time later take their place. But there was one He couldn't control. and finally determined to leave : Which has since become identified. with biography of Eve. 119 A JUVENILE HISTORY OF THE CREATION Then He took a day's vacation, when he had done 'bout all he could; And carefully looked the whole fiekl over, concludino- all was good. And according to some records, which He'd kept in various ways, He had finished up all his creations, in less than seven days. igsm? WHEN God made all the creatures— Whether they walk or fly, He gave to them their likes and tastes, The same as you and I. He blessed them with thai love and fear. With which our hearts He'd fill; He made us all, one family here, — The children of His Will. d>^ OUR TEETOTALER HE had come out from the Forest City, to get a breath of air; He'd "been, for years, shut in a store-room, selling- various kinds of ware." "Chjse and steady confinement, with long and strenuous business hours;" Had begun to show upon liis health, and undermine his. powers. OUR TEETOTALER His friends unitedly agreed, "he'd better take a vaca- tion;" And go straight to the country, and try some out-door occupation. He said he'd "come from the City," and that his name was Lakeville Grout; And that he'd "kind of got run down," and that he "wasn't so very stout." But that he thought "the country air, Avith exercise" would do him good; That he could ' ' do most anything, from building fires to chopping wood." That if we "would give him a job," he "could start in that very day;" That he'd "be well satisfied," with whatever we felt we could pay. He said Ave'd been recommended; that he heard Ave needed a hand; That he Avas pleased Avith our surroundings, and liked the lay of our land. 123 OUR TEETOTALER He said he'd been ''raised in the mountains, of the grand old Keystone State;" Where they "earn their bread by the sweat o' tln-ir brow", and ''always give good weight." We tested his temper that afternoon— and got its color- grade ; For the harvest field late in Jnly. is not blessed willi store-room shade. We "broke him in" cradling timothy seed. — he wiltc^l in the race; But, from that day on, he proved stout and strong, and always held his place. We all "took to him" from the start, and were glad to have him with us; He was efficient in his Avork. and mingled with it, cheer- fulness. He had nice supplies of energy, genius and applica- tion ; And was a splendid visitor, with great funds of m for- mation. 124 '^i|a# i/- OUR TEETOTALER He'd been through the great rebellion, and loved to talk both war and peace; From the breaking up of China, down to the politics of Greece. But his most favorite subjects, were temperance and religion ; For he said, "things in the City had got in a bad con- dition." And that "Satan held a mortgage, on some whole busi- ness blocks and streets : ' ' And even "in the city council, controlled some popular seats. ' ' He spoke about the City IMissions, and the work they had to do; Of splendid efforts they'd put forth, and of their cour- age brave and true. He mentioned Francis Murphey, — what a blessing to the Avorld he'd been; And how he had blocked the way to ruin, and saved so many men. T27 OUR TEETOTALER Sometimes he'd speak about the judgment, but more "bout heavenly things; And would frequently refer, to the time when we'd be wearin' wings. But some, among us, had suspicions, and discussed them now and then: Which were mostly based on conversation, whilst out amongst the men. That while Grout was bright and cpiite well posted, and always full of cheer:— There was something about his moralizin'. that didn't seem sincere. But Aunt Jane, who was living Avith us. protested be- yond a doubt— That there "wasn't," in all the country, a better man than Lakeville Grout." That "his blessing at the table was the best she had ever heard; And came the nearest to fulfilling the injunctions of the Word." 128 OUR TEETOTALER That, "according to the scriptures, a man with thong-hts so broad and deep, Would certainly, at the final roll-call, be connted with the sheep." But Nathan Squires, our milk route man, who'd just come in from doing chores ; Said he "believed no bigger hypocrite, was runnin' loose out doors." "And concernin' Aunt Jane's final "round up," he'd "bet a peck of oats" — "That when the flock was all divided, he'd be runnin' with the goats." But it seldom pays to argue, 'bout other people's faults and ways; For we all, each, have kinks and traits, which in others we would not praise. Yet Grout was losing interest, in Church as well a^ Sunday-school ; Which was altogether contrary, to his former general rule. 129 OUR TEETOTALER He said little 'bout City Missions, and less of the tem- perance fight: He was falling oft: in reading, too, and away much more at night. But things were gradually coming on, that would test the matter straight; And which later changed some good opinions, at quite a rapid rate. Squires' claimed, he'd "found bottles in the barn — lying on the rafter plate;" That "hidin' things that way, was a confirmed, old- fashioned, '^ bluffers" trait." That Grout was associating, "mongst some who liked tlieir toddy too;" And that "we'd all find out before winter," that what he said, was true. We were fairly commenced husking corn, and with sev- eral hired hands; Had just finished eating dinner, and were out fixing fodder bands. 130 OUR TEETOTALER The boYs had made some Rambo cider, and thought we ought to tiy it.; That "it would do us little good, if we never would go nigh it." But while 'twas running, Grout said,— 'twas "a thing one should, by rights, let pass;" But that, "for the sake of harmony," he would "try a half a glass." He kind o' squirmed, and looked surprised; he said 'twas "stout, "—'twas four days old. He stated too, " 'twould be good, he thought, "for a man that had a cold." AYe kept our cider in the cellar, with two big wide open doors ; Eight out in front, next to the path, Avhere we'd come in from doing chores. AVhile the cider Avas fermenting, we'd fill the barrels every day; But the thing that was surprising, was how that cider 'd dry away. 131 OUR TEETOTALER We carefully examined the barrels, and we could find no flaws; But on a sill, behind the barrels, we found a few long wheat straws. We 'mongst us, planned some local schemes, and watched to see how they might work; And before night, that very day, we trapped our Forest City Clerk. Aunt Jane went in hysterics; — 'twas a secret, now no longer hid; 'Twas plainly seen, that while Lake Erie never got drj/— ''Lake" Grout did. He'd brought his passion to the country, where he thought 'twould do no harm; But when Satan owns a man, he^s got him;— m town or on the farm. And though he had many virtues, his taste for drink was in control: And drove him on, from bad to worse, until he reached the drunkard's goal. 132 OUR TEETOTALER He was devoted to his family, providing as best he could : From his life, we might all glean lessons, which per- haps would do us good. He had sown, reaped, and garnered, some wild and vigorous crops of oats: Leaving fortunes in experience, but none in real estate or notes. 133 OXE eve. a tiny liiile mousie Spied a hit of cli.eese: The ichiclK he founel, hy looJi'ing 'round, He could secure with ease. Mousie's mother cured him up. But it tool' Iter rnore'n a day: Arid now. when mousie spies some cheese. He turns and strips away. TO THE SERPENT OF THE CUP OH, Cruel Monster! Why wrench God's image from the clay? It's just as dear to him now, as w^hen in childhood's day, He stamped the mark of character upon that young- face, And bade the youth beneath it, grow up to manhood's grace: 135 TO THE SERPENT OF THE CUP And planted within liis heart, those intuitions strong, Which giean from nature's mnsie, life's treasury of song. And he put inside his breast a courage true and brave— Oh ! Vicious Demon ! By what power dost thou hold him slave? AYho knew, that with his strength, thou couldst drag him to this end? Thou Fickle Fiend! It's by this process, thou art his friend ! ]\Iost "Wily Serpent ! Wliat subtle means doth bring thee gain? It's life's spirit, thou hast stolen from the golden grain; Converting it, by the fiery fumes of Satan's breath, Into thy Essence of Crime, and thy Tincture of Death. Then dost thou don attractive colors, blending with song\ And with cunning speech,— concealing all pretense of wrong. 136 TO THE SERPENT OF THE CUP Thou Stealthy Yillian! By such means hast thou built this snare, To win men captive, with all their life 's promised welfare ! Thy slave hath served thee well, to the limit of his strength; Eetain him in thy grasp, but hold him at full arms length. Thou art honest now, — Thou hast his means, — leave him to fate ; His reward, the Grave; His premium. Death with no rebate. THE higliesf aim one can achieve, Is to he wise and true: For these, bring all the world can give, Witli ]i ear en's promise too. SPRING TIME SOME sing of the Autumn, when the leaves turn gold: But I sing of the Spring-time, when they unfold. When Winter is over, and beauties are showing, And buds and blossoms are swelling and blowing; The Black-birds and Thrushes are merrily singing. And the forest, with their music, is ringing: The hills and the valleys, in luxurious bloom. Are filling the air with their sweet perfume; — While the fields are smiling, in the sunshine and rain, Foretellino- abundantly, the harvest asain. 0, Joyous Spring-time! Sweet Goddess of the year! To thy beauty I cling, as I cherish thy cheer ; For thy musical grandeur, of soul thrilling part. Is ever sweet to my life, and dear to my heart. There's joy at the reaping, when harvest is made; But there's 7iwre in the promise of blossom and blade. There's cheer in Autumn, for the weak and the strong; Yet, 'tis doubled in Spring-time, with beauty and song. Ah, the Spring-time grandeur, with its flowers and birds. There 's no artist can picture, in colors or words I 139 SPRING-TIME O ! glorious season of promise and mirth. ! O'erladen with joy, for all creatures on earth: Though, with gold of the Summer, and feast of the fall, I yet love thy sweet presence more than they all. Oh, with thee would I dwell, for ever and aye; Passing, finally, from earth, in Spring-time, away,— With birds and blossoms, the abiding to keep. While my soul slips away, at the still quiet sleep, — To awake with the dawn of the morning of love, In the beautiful Spring-time eternal, above. f^ f c 140 THE SHEPHERD'S REALM ^ I ^HE Shepherd is a kindly, thoughtful man, with large and tender heart; And an ever-present willingness, to in all things do his part. He quite well appreciates the force of environments in life; And he sees and feels, the pains and griefs, of those weaker in the strife. He is ever regardful of his flock, and counts the time well spent, Which he devotes in planning, for their highest, best de- velopment. He will always treat them kindly, and make them happy as he can; For that is both food and medicine, good for bird or beast or man. HI THE SHEPHERD S RE^VLM And when he finds they're getting weary of the same old pasture lot. He will plan to sort of change them 'round, to a more congenial spot. And thoufih the pasture he no Vtetter. yet he finds it does them good: If it's only a change of scenery, "twill hti-lp digest their food. Quiet surroundings he'll wht-n sheds and barns look thrifty. As the English sparrow crop : And the house '" chucked" with things to eat. From the bottom to the top. It's when the turkeys roost up high. — To make it safer living: And we all count the season's nigh — Our annual Thanksgiving. 162 LEGAL AND MEDICAL CLOTH THERE are quite a few lawyers, "liars," and plenty of Doctors, "quacks;" But it's as true in other callings, they've got their "scape-goats" and "jacks." The professions of medicine and law, are the greatest on earth; Because they reach us at the times, we most appreciate real worth. And, to saddle all the trickery, on a few that's stout and strong, — Isn't quite the thing to do, when the credit to them, don't all belong. But the stealth}^ ^^pettifogger/' and the vicious " pizen mixer," Are dangerous chaps to have around, distributing their elixir. 163 LEGAL AXD :)LEDICAL CLOTH Tv^liile the honorable lawyer, and the Doctor, conscient- ious true. — Are blessings to society, which Ave can set no value to. The world, to these, doth owe a debt, which moneyed A^alues cannot meet: For life and fortune, are to us each, most immeasur- ably sAveet. And I think at the final roll-call, in the place we hope to be: That Ave '11 find some Doctors and some LaAvyers. Avill be admitted free. -:-^ 7 J^ l//'i'' I '' 164 ONE morn, 'I breathed upon the air, a song;' 'Twas carried away, hy the current strong: Like the devj of morn, it passed with the day, — Its place I knew not, nor whither its way. Midst life's turmoils, it was forgotten then; But it cheered my heart, like a sunbeam, when, From a message at eve\ sent by a friend, I gleaned the song, 'from beginning to end.' MELON TIME IT'S when do^-days is at their best, an' the sun is boilin' hot,— That you'll have that intense lonoin', fer a cool an' shady spot. An' you'll feel so empty weary, w^ith a dryness in your throat ; It's the7i, 3^ou'd mark your ticket wet, if you had a chance to vote. When everything is filled with dust, an' the streams is turnin' dry; With nothin' 'pearin' in the heavens, but sun an' clear blue sky: When the earth is all cracked open, an' the leaves is all turned up. An' a whole cornfield hain't sap enough to fill a chiny cup ; i66 MELON TIME An' your tongue is cringin' parched, an' you feel sali- vated through; Your stummick's tuned fer somethin' damp, an' you're conscientious too, — Tou'll investigate the sootliin' things, of every kind an' grade ; ^ut nothin' else will fill the bill, like nice, sweet melons an' shade. There 's lots of things that 's good at Christmas, but this is not their time; An' things that's good Thanksgivin' — jist now, ain't worth a dime. Nature's planned a time fer melons, like all else that's good on earth; An' brings 'em at a season, when we appreciate their worth. They're made of — mostly water, when other things is —mostly dry; They're seasoned aromatic, an' colored up to please the eye. 169 MELON TIME There's no more pleasant antidote, fer a day of Sum- mer heat, Than a nice, sweet, juicy melon, in a shady, cool re- treat. Some claim, that they might be improved, but wJry,. they 11 .tiive no reason : Fer it's hard to make things better, that's suited to their season. Talk about your luxuries, an' all the holidays that's made, — I'll bunch mine all up together, in nice sweet melons- an' shade. ^V^ \ '■cm r-- r^.m^^ // 170 ''THERE is no place like Home/' in life, ^yhen away from Home you've heen; If closed against a world of Strife, And a world of Love, shut in. DON'T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS DON'T forget the boys and girls, In planning abont the farm; For slight neglects in starting out, - Oft end in lots of harm. Remember, that life's jonrney. Is a long and tedions way; That men and women tomorrow, Are boys and girls today. That the eternal laws of growth, Of progress, and of truth, Are written quite the same, In man, and plant, and bird, and brute. It pays to study rations, When you are feeding cattle ; Be as fair with boys and girls— Grow tliem strong, for life's battle. 173 DON^T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS Don't make them chattel property. Like horses, sheep and goats, And work 'em for all they're worth, To pay off your mortgage notes. To subordinate their welfare, To heap up bonds or lands. May dwarf their moral courage, And spoil all their life's best plans. Keep their minds and morals growing, Tow'rd better thoughts and ways. By right supplies of liter 'ture. For nights and stormy days. Keep the home environment. Pleasant, clean, and cheerful, too ; For that's good moral tonic, And will last their whole lives through. "Sometimes a change of scen'ry. Or a day from home, is good; 'Twill help correct their judgment. And is right good mental food. 174 DON T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS AVhen school days are in ses.sion. You'll find it the safest rule. Just to keep them rigiit in line With the work they have in school. But do not expect a boy. With an eye for guns and tools, To at once leave off his hobbies, And take to 'oTamniar rules.' Encoui-age their various tastes - Along industrial lines : It will help develop muscle. And educate their minds. And when they maJce great big mistakes, You'll censure tliem a hit: But any time tliey do rigid well, Just kindly mention it. And you'll find you'll he the happier, ^Vhen you're old and gray. If you are always true to them, 1)1 what you do and sai/. 175 DON T FORGET THE BOYS AND GIRLS Don't discourage anihitions; Experience proves quite well,— That what a hoy should do in life, There's none hut God can tell. In the past, a large per cent Of the world's successful men, Were brought up in the country, And are now, the same as then. \ Look some twenty years ahead; In the long run it will pay: For men and women tomorrow. Are the boys and girls today. IT pays to do good, and it pays to do right; For success is not icon hy power )ior hy might. Dealing with others, as you'd have them deal with you. Wins friendship and fortune and happiness too. ( '"i JUNE WERE I entertaining angels, and wanted things in tune, I'd kind o' like to have them come some time along in June. I would soiuid no patent organ against the harps they've played But I'd take them to the forest, to some nice maple shade— 178 JUNE Where they might feast their eyes on scenery, shrubbery and trees, And view the landscape picturesque, while resting there at ease. And when they'd seen all the flowers, so full of honey-dew; And had listened to all the birds that sing for me and you— / think they would be delighted, and wish to come again; When I'd bid them hearty welcome return — a year from then. And if they'd way's taking pictures, combining sight and sound, I'd want to have them take a few — 'long home, to show around. I'd want some in the morning, and I'd want a few at noon; And I'd like a few at evening — but all of them in June. When there's flowers in the garden, and flowers in the field; And flowers in the pasture lot, to help the honey yield. 179 JUNE There's beauty in the forest, and the fields of golden grain; And there's beauty in the rain-bow, o'er-neath the falling rain. There's beauty in the sunshine, and there's beauty in the shade; There's beauty in the dew drops,— and everything that's made. There is music in the timber, and in the open land; There is music in the distance, and music near at hand: There is music in the morning —and the whole day long; From the "chatter" of the sparrow, to the Whippoorwill's song. There's music in the Robin, in the Meadow-lark and Wren; There's music in the Bob-o-link, and 'round the chip-munk's den. There's music in the cricket, in the squirrel and the Thrush; And there's music in the Cat-bird — wingin' from the brush. 1 80 JUNE There's music in the Ked-bird, and the Yellow-hammer too; There's music in the Black-bird, and there's mu^ic in the Blue. There's music in the thicket, and there's music in the brook; There's music in the meadow, and everywhere you look;— For things are all united in one celebrating tune ; And the world is filled with mirth 'till it overflows,— in Jiine. ^^ i8i CHRISTMAS TIDE p EJOICE. Oh Earth! 'Tis Christmas mornl * ^ The angels are singing above — The glad tidings of our Saviour, And His message of peace and love. Ring aloud, ye bells, — the gladsome )ieivs Of the ChUcl of Bethlehem : And point earth's millions to the star, Still shining brillianthv for them. Cheer up, sad heart,— praise God today; There's joy for each tempest tossed sea: 'Tis the Christ, who came to bless all mankind, As well as von and me. [82 DAYS GONE BY 1USED to play at keeping house, And make real nice mnd pie; I did things then, I can't do now,— But those days have long gone by. I used to climb the rafter poles, And trees, and buildings high; I did lots then, I couldn't do now,— In those days, so long gone by. I used to ask great broad questions— Sometimes, get no reply: I thought things then, I don't think now. In days that have long gone by. I once knew the first ripe apple, And signs of new baked pie; I knew things then, I don't know now.- Those days, many years gone by. 183 DAYS GONE BY I once knew each flower and bird, The toad and butterfly; I saw lots then, I don't see now,— But those days have all gone by. I'd like once more to take a trip, O'er fields I used to ply; With all things hig and good as then. In those days so long gone by. 184 A JOLLY LITTLE RAMBLER A DEW-DROP, nestling in a rose, Awaked from a morning dream; Left its beautiful sweet repose, And clambered up a sunbeam. It journeyed far to the mountain, And slept in a bank of snow; Then it rippled from a fountain, And helped swell a river's flow. It put gold in field and forest,— Cheering everything that grows: Tired of play, it returns to rest, In the bosom of the rose. •85 "SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD" WHILE putting her house in order, Within it, creating a home, She always maintained good hearty welcome, For all who wished to come. Her life was blessed with charity— A faith and hope, unhampered, strong; Which filled her home with cheerfulness, With mirth and music, and with song. Her table spread with bounties. Sumptuously free, and well prepared; And there were none, who ever dined with her, But felt they had well fared. Her hands were always ready-willing, To lighten another's care; x\nd it's many a cross and grief. With her courage, she helped to bear. 1 86 SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD When the angels placed me in her arms, Her fidelity to prove, — She stamped upon my cheek, ''The kiss of joy,' And sealed it with her love. How oft she clasped me to her breast. And soothed my little woes and tears; And how her ever faithfulness, Hath kept right up through all the years. When ill, she would plead High Heaven To bless all means to make me well; Audi suffered hours of anxious worry, None but she and God could tell. Then, in all things, she'd point the good, And try to teach me ways of right; And when in trouble, she'd encourage,— Though the clouds seemed thick as night She'd enjoy my little successes, As on earth, none other could; And would share my burdens and vexations, In ways, no other would. 187 '^SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD '' And for aught there be, that's good in me, Or in that which I have done; If any one's deserving- credit, I think she should be the one. Among earth's proven, hath she been a (lueen, Though dressed in humble gown ; By and by, she'll win her heaven; Then, I think, she will wear a crown: For she hath met life's battle. With courage, fidelity and love; Entitling her to the rewards of peace, Described in realms above. OCr 8 lyuo