I FOR HOME AND FRIENDS CHEERY Class _^6\££.a7 Book : Copyright N°_ 1243 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. NEW POEMS AND GLAD OUTINGS ILL US T R A TED BY JOHN J. SNOOK author of Centennial Trip in Rhyme, Soldiers and Southern Mountains, Water: Its Prop- erties, Peculiarities and Para- doxes, Good Will Tokens and California Trip. Published by the Author Rochester, Mich. 1907 LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Received JUL 20 I90f Cepyn*ht Entry QIASS let XXc, No. copy y. / . W v M ^ H 6 7 Copyright, 1907 by John J. Snook AIvI, RIGHTS RESERVED DETROIT REX B. CI^ARK CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS I27-I29 WOODWARD AVE. A HUNDRED f> SPRIGHTLY POEMS DEDICATED TO THOSE WHO SEE GOOD IN THE WORLD AND WISH FOR MORE. CONTENTS A Balanced Life 219 A Boy on Guard 36 A Cat-a-Story 114 A Dilemma 3S A Frog-Like Dive 33 A Manly Man 13 A Million Sparkles Ill A New Song 230 Angel Thought 51 A Runaway Outing 204 A Smile and a Promise 48 A Timid Poem 17 A Wedding Wish 34 Balanced Rocks 49 Beauties of Horticulture 55 Beauty and Utility 123 Berries 31 Berry Pickers 42 Between Two Years 171 Birthday Surprise 140 Bitter Sweet 23 Bobbing Up Serenely 87 Bread and Butter 52 Charm of the Hills 12 Cherry Tree and Hatchet 157 Childhood 25 INDEX Chronic Critics 86 Church Unity 240 Colored Stars 41 Come and Gone 250 Contrast 18 Cuckoo Clock 238 Dear Home 16 Ding Dong Musings 46 Energy and Sunbeams 16 Excuses 242 Farewell, Dear Friend 253 Farm Home 162 Farming No. 2 200 Flags and Mountains 207 Flowers and Children 117 Friendship 32 Gold-Fish 151 Golden Trios 170 Good Old-Fashioned Winters 127 Good Morning 195 Good Will..... 141 Goose Quills, Good Night 93 Great Gifts , 35 Hand in Hand 120 Happy Home Songs 197 Heart Sunshine 143 Helpful Days 147 How the Mind Grows . , 112 How to Tell a Woman's Age 19 Impossible 18b In Blossom Time 186 Ink Charms 232 June Sunrise 206 Kiss or Car 131 Lights Then and Now 40 INDEX Lincoln 15 Little Children and Spring Birds 212 Living Pictures 53 Lookout Mountain 88 Love, Charity, Good-Will 191 Mackinac Island 148 Make a Contrast 163 Memory's Echo Mountain 210 Merry Christmas 39 Michigan Agricultural College 129 Mountains 113 Music in Dishes 216 Must Correspond 202 My Book's Future ." 190 My Gay Baby Dress 121 My Grandfather's Pioneer Chain 142 Neatness and Dispatch 85 New Year Calls in New York 234 New Year Wish 82 No "Home" Without Love 84 Nutting Party 198 Old Glory 165 Once in a While 56 Our Basement Window 24 Our Two Story House Plant 58 Our Own Sweet Thoughts 83 Our Little Colonel 116 Overlook Boulevard 57 Overlook 130 Pancake Time 21 Photographs 196 Pioneer Memory Pictures 220 Politeness 139 Quiet Rest 45 Queen and Crescent 144 INDEX Rain Drops 3? Reading Aloud • • 14 Rural Freedom 213 Short Year - 60 Silver Day 205 Snow Storm 115 Stars and Stripes 233 Success 27 Sunday School Teachers 211 Sure of Spring 20 Tau Rho Sigma 84 Thanksgiving 218 That Pioneer Fence 250 The Academy 251 The Aut(not)tomobile 152 The Centennial Trip in Rhyme 61 The Country School Teacher 243 The Dear Old Folks 164 The Eastern Star 209 The Farmers' Club 132 The Farmers' Institute 235 "The Grand Army of the Republic" 192 The Hudson 160 The Jolly Pioneer 136 Two Little Friends 119 The Little Word We Say 128 The Looking Glass 20 The Meanest Thing 239 "The Missing Link" 23 The Months of the Year 248 The Old Water Mill , 150 The Old Violin 122 The One Hundredth 166 INDEX The Other Fellow 30 The Peach is Queen 215 The Pocket-Book 214 The Poem Tree 29 The Rocking Swing Chair 175 The Rural Trolley 158 The Sunday School 135 The Sword and Pen 15G The Thread of Life 241 The Vision of the Valley 176 The Woodland 174 Three Companions 154 Thrifty Homes 118 Trip and Outing 94 Truth 146 Twentieth Century Woman 138 Twilight Bells 167 Valley Village Outing 50 Variety 153 Washington's Birthday 199 Water's Benediction 189 Weather Effect 246 Welcome 208 "What the Trees Said" ' 22 When Ell and I Were Young Folks 168 "Which" 203 Whistles 187 Who Made this Book 247 Winter 26 Women and War 124 World's Fair at Chicago 172 You, I and We. 217 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Berry Pickers 42 v " Front Lawn 174 Lake Overlook 189 * Outing on St. Clair River 80 v Outing 97- Overlook Boulevard, looking west 57 ^ Picture of House 130 + The Driveway Overlook 120 The Prospective Pie 162 v The Author ".". Frontispiece v Baby Helen 32 Mackinac Island ."'.... 148 ' THE RIGHT RING. Give a right ring and a bright ring To what you say and write ; It may courage give to Brothers in the strife; For a bright thought charms the ear, And a right thought cheers the heart ; They together make a Better, happier life. Then speak with honest eloquence, And write with truest glow, Not for yourself alone To do and dare. But, with manly courage bold, Sound a right ring and a bright ring While in this world you live And do your share. 12 B y S no ok CHARM OF THE HILLS. TO MY WIFE WHO LOVED THEM SO. Somehow, there is a charm among the hills That soothes, and yet with inspiration thrills; Our spirits and our feet somehow seem lighter, The air is purer and the skies are brighter Among the hills. Somehow, the whispering trees have plainer speech, And pleasant thoughts come quick within our reach ; The happy bird songs sound with notes more free, As echoing back again they come to me Among the hills. Somehow, the same companions seem more gay, Who with new ecstasy make glad the day; Discovered flowers smile with shyer grace, While blushingly they laugh from hiding place Among the hills. The gliding brook in shady nook up here Runs by with brighter face and more of cheer, And if it falls, as hill streams often do, It somehow springs again and starts anew , Among the hills. From this proud height, surroundings all are clear, The loveliest landscapes, once so far, seem near; Between the earth and glorious sky we rest, Knowing somehow that we are charmed and blessed Among the hills. of Overlook 13 A MANLY MAN. DEDICATED TO COL. H. S. DEAN, 22ND M. V. I There is in realm of sight or thought, Somewhere, an object we admire ; Possessed of character and brains With ways that all our hearts inspire, A manly man. He stands erect with courage true, Fears not his part of work and care ; With large and tender heart of love You'll find that he will do his share, A manly man. He scorns no brother of the race, Yet hates the wrongs that ruin brings ; Is man enough to stand for right, And not bow down to baser things, A manly man. We love a sturdy soul that's true; Strong for the right, who will not bend To wrong, to meanness, or to bribe ; A true companion, partner, friend, A manly man. i4 B y S no o k READING ALOUD. DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER, WIFE, DAUGHTER AND BROTHER. We sing the praise of those who read To the home folks gathered around, Choosing for soul the choicest feed From best of good things that are found. A noble, pleasing, helpful act, Patent to thinking minds who know, This oft forgotten, yet true fact, As minds are fed, so minds will grow. Have we not known an evening time When those we loved seemed lovlier still, As they aloud read thoughts sublime That did our better natures thrill? They read of courage for the right, Of ugly selfishness subdued, Of loved ones making home more bright, And flowers of hope in pathways strewed. Then, children sang a happier song, Their good-night was a sweeter kiss, The pleasant hours seemed not too long, On hearts was stamped a charm of bliss. Think not your voice is lost in sound; A crown unsought, unasked is thine, The noble thoughts you've passed around Come back and 'mongst its trophies shine. of Overlook 15 LINCOLN. DEDICATED TO PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT. 'Mongst all the noble names that shine On history's page or memory's roll, There's none whose worth stands paramount, With brighter faith or purer soul, Than Lincoln, our own Lincoln. In darkest clays when all was night, With war-clouds rolling o'er the land, And when the storm in fury broke, He calmly, firmly, took command, No braver man than Lincoln ! When weeks to direful months had grown And blackest months made up the years, He lifted up hope's trembling form, He brushed away his country's fears, No truer man than Lincoln. At freedom's call for broken chain From slavery's base, vile auction pen His heart was stirred, and with his hand Wrote blessed words, good will to men, No kinder man than Lincoln. Did grander hero ever live? In right, he had no hesitation, And with true patriots by his side He saved a mangled bleeding nation, Our honest Abraham Lincoln. 16 B y S no ok ENERGY AND SUNBEAMS. When heavy clouds frown, And fog settles down, O'er the country, city and streams, Then the wind comes along, With energy strong, Making rifts for little sunbeams. So, if in our mind A dullness, we find, Has already begun to begin; Brisk work on our part, With head, hand and heart, Will surely let sunshine in. DEAR HOME. Home is the word most dear, No other sound o'er earth's broad space, With winning, luring, charming tone Can rise to take its place. Who does not surely know That they are happiest yet by far, Who let no monster word or thought, Enter the home to mar. of Overlook 17 Where is there love so true When crushing adverse tempests start, And seeming, fawning, flattering friends In cruel haste depart ? Where such unselfishness, When sickness calls for watchful care, From helpful, hopeful, anxious hearts As from the dear one's there? My theme is still of home, No other can with it compete ; The song I love to sing the most Is of dear home so sweet. A TIMID POEM. I'm but a little fellow Just a poem young and mellow, Having aspirations many With great fears as keen as any. But I don't know what to do Cause I'm 'fraid I won't suit you, Still in hope, Fin bound to ask it Don't put me in your waste-basket. 18 By Snook CONTRAST. "O, see that lovely rose," The one girl said While looking at a bush in June; The other slowly asked With face forlorn "Why are they always near a thorn?" Two little children Gathering lovliest flowers, Said one "how nice and bright they are!" The other thus replied; "How tame this ugly spot! Oh dear, why is the sun so hot?" Two friends climbed up a hill, One said in joyful strain, ''Oh grandeur! how I love this scene!" The other bluntly spoke "I hate to look so deep, It is so awful rough and steep." Two youthful maidens fair Once wandered by a stream ; One said : "How clear the water is !" The other with dejected tone, While gazing round, "How cold and damp this horrid ground !" Two hopeful, lucky ones — Perhaps they're you and me — Are looking for the loveliest scenes ; Skipping the dull and drear With pictures only sad, Thus making life more bright and glad. of Overlook 19 HOW TO TELL A WOMAN'S AGE. The secret is out, So much talked about, Though for years It was sought for in vain, And the people of old, In numbers untold, O'er the question Had bothered their brain. How to tell the true age, Without being a sage, Of a lady that's Out of her teens; So the secret I'll tell, Though it may cause a yell, And 'tis done by This simplest of means. Just open your ear And listen and hear She will tell of her Age, and how old ; Now be careful today, And mind what I say, For 'tis told by the Amount that she'll scold. 2o B y S no ok SURE OF SPRING. (written for the woman's club paper BY REQUEST. ) When cold winds howl, o'er snow banks high And winter reigns o'er hill and plain. All sigh for warmest days, and, then We wish that spring would come again. The world feels gay, when nature laughs, And violets peep from hill and dale, To fill the heart with hope, — just then We think that spring has come again. When ladies' hats grow gay with flowers, When roses on their cheeks are seen, When woman's clubs smile on the men We're sure that spring has come again. THE LOOKING GLASS. The old looking glass, — what a friend it has been As it hangs on the wall, or stands staunch and true, How silent it is, not a word has it said And yet by reflection has spoken to you. It tells us our faults as no other friends do. Without jeering or fawning, how plainly it speaks. Of our hat, coat, and dress, and our vanity too. And the color that sometimes comes to our cheeks. We sincerely wish that its verdict were better, But cannot affect its decision — alas; While perhaps we have turned to those who would flatter We respect its plain truth — the old looking glass. of Overlook 21 PANCAKE TIME. Some love no more the winter's night With lengthened robe of white, But sigh for earth's glad dress of green O'er fields and forests seen. And some for May's glad month of bloom Have plenty of heart room ; They love to speak in prose and rhyme Of lovely blossoming time. And those there are who'd mask or play In fields of grain or hay; Or bundle stack would climb In summer's harvest time. While others still would fishing go Or hunting as they row, Or listen to the church bells chime In lurid autumn time. Others admire the frosty morn With rustling ripened corn, And they with appetites sublime Love best the pan-cake time. 22 By Snook THE FOLLOWING LINES WERE FOUND ON LEAVES OF TREES, WHERE THEY WILL BE PRINTED EVERY SPRING. "WHAT THE TREES SAID." "Lives there a man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said," This barren lawn belongs to me I'll seed it down and plant a tree. "Who never to himself hath said," To those fair trees I make my bow, Their beauty was from heaven sent I will, I will protect them now. With soul so selfish, and so dead For pelf alone, he'd only live, But for his home or country's sake Not a green shrub or tree he'd give. Dead, dead, yes he is doubly dead Who cannot see glad nature fair, Nor hear the whisperings of the trees Nor smell their fragrance in the air. "If such there be go mark him well," Write shame, where it is plain to see, And when he's in last resting place Plant there no flower, shrub or tree. of Overlook 23 BITTER SWEET. Twining from the meadow fence, Or trailing from the trees, Hangs the bright bitter-sweet Swung by the breeze. The flowers of autumn Have all passed away, No more are we cheered By the birds' happy lay. So sadly we're sighing As winter comes on, Not finding attractions Now withered or gone. But O! see those beauties In clusters so neat They're just what we wanted Bright red bitter-sweet. The frosts have but heightened The colors anew, That you have been hiding And keeping from view. Oh! is'nt this charming! Delightful, to meet With wild Christmas tokens, Our loved bitter-sweet. 24 B y S no ok OUR BASEMENT WINDOW. Dark, damp and drear the cellar was, When first we came to Overlook, Old rotten, boarded bins were there And spooks seemed hid in every nook. My better half sighed for more light And dryer warmth beneath the floors, For ventilation more complete, For happy sunshine from out doors. We planned, we studied and we thought, And then, e'er long a furnace grew, Which brought in fresh air from outside And took the foul up chimney flue. A room for truck and fruit was made, And goodly space for coal and wood; Where as through chute it glided in It seemed so handy and so good. The floor was covered with cement, The dark and grimy walls made white, And yet it lacked in one respect, It seemed somehow too much like night. A window we must have, why not, In place of these three panes so small? So with a crowbar and a pick I battered down the great stone wall. For garden window long and high With sloping frame to catch the light, Making an earth-shelf three by seven For many flowers with faces bright. of Overlook 25 A place for rustic vine to grow Which climbs to sitting room above, Where round the room in festoons gay It hangs and trails in loops of love. No more by "cellar" is it called But "basement/' a more seemly name, And to this window we ascribe The most of credit for the same. And if,through sloth or ignorance, Our lives like that cellar have been, "Enlarge the windows of the soul And let the light of heaven in." CHILDHOOD. O ! the songs that we sang ! How the great forests rang, As a play house we made In the old maple's shade. Or blending with others, Our sisters and brothers, And with Father's sweet voice In the hymns of our choice. How a Mother's warm heart Did good councils impart, ♦ With her stories to read, — Just the ones that we'd need. O! those pictures, they thrill And our souls often fill, With the charmings sublime Of that glad happy time. 26 B y S n o o k WINTER. What will pay us for the winter With its cold and ice and snow, Where's the recompense to come from That shall cause the heart to glow? If we'll stop and think a moment, There are evenings warm and bright When around the center table We may visit with delight. Or, may read the news in detail And discuss its bearings many; Compare markets and thus learn How to make an honest penny. Then the singing and the playing Adding pleasure to the leisure And fine sleighing or smooth coasting With glad laughter in good measure. How we enjoy the fire's warm glow Put on the grate another splinter Bring in the nuts and popcorn, too, T'were surely dull without the winter. of Overlook 27 SUCCESS. What is success? Now tell us why, And after thinking make reply, Confused I am and nothing less, They differ so about success. Some say to gain this wondrous prize You must be very smart and wise, And learn the languages galore Of all the dead past gone before. Some, that in fashion you must swim And bow to every changing whim So that the proud will envy you So much they'll not know what to do. Others, that art or literature Are only things that will endure; Sculpture you must, or paint or rhyme Or pen tracks make on page of time. While others still, that, at a glance You're sure to see it's all finance; Success financially you know Is putting dollars where they'll grow. Till massive walls are thick and strong With pelf absorbed the whole life long Fencing ourselves with greed about So none see in, nor we see out. 28 By Snook Some think that eating another's part Will fill one up and make him smart ; He might succeed, perhaps, but then No hog should be without a pen. The answer seems so hard to find, How does the following strike your mind, — Is not success as best we can To be at peace with God and man? "THE MISSING LINK." DEDICATED TO THOSE WHO CLAIM THE HONOR OF APE ANCESTRY. Would you see our stuffed calico ape? On haunches he sits with knees near to chin, He's a dandy with brain power not very large, His arms and his claws are both thin. On the floor with his back to the door Where he's fastened securely to stay, Be it little or much, he will hold it there At just any angle you say. "Darwin Senior" they call him for short, And it may be he's dreaming — about, Just how in the long years that yet are to come His "Juniors" will figure it out. He's so sorry that he broke the link That is missing, alas! and a-lack, And thinks if his juniors would look in the glass They might possibly get the link back. of Overlook 29 THE POEM TREE. You've asked me for a thought, Marie, That's grown upon my poem tree ; Gladly I'd grant that one desire If I but knew which you admire. Some have a charm of dell and hill, Others the soul with blossoms fill, While some, I'm sure, of hope will sing And all we trust have the ''right ring." With tintings of a hundred kinds They're suited to as many minds, Which you, in preference might accept Has ne'er among my thoughtlets crept. T'were better if you'd see the tree And pluck from off its branches free, Boquets of beauty or of style That seen might echo back a smile. Or 'praps, my cousin, I might grow A blossom of peculiar glow; In realm of fancy there is room For poems are but thoughts in bloom. 3° By S'n o ok THE OTHER FELLOW. You've seen perhaps or may have known In all your ramblings up and down, Of that blamed person, — ever blamed By all good people in the town, — The other fellow. Sam said his father knew us both, Just where he would'nt say might be, But any way these words he said That one's as mean as pusley tea, The other fellow. Mac Flanagan, he answered thus, "I'm not the mon, you'd know it cause, Mike, Pete and Pat they ought to know They say it surely, surely was The other fellow." One sorry day when Timothy And Clover Hay were on the rack, Dry Tim denied in court and said He's now the one to put in stock, The other fellow. If you and I should have a spat About some foolish work or play, And blow it all about the town Who'd be the first to say, and say, The other fellow. of Overlook 31 Strange, strange that one be singled out And made to carry such abuse, Just cause he did'nt know the song By many peoples' tongues let loose, The other fellow. Now if these jottings do not suit, If criticism is adverse, Don't blame the writer, it's not me It is the one who reads the verse, The other fellow. BERRIES. The berries, the berries, The ripe luscious berries , To my sight they appeal And my palate as well, I like them, I love them, Unpicked or in baskets, Just how much I love them I never can tell. They're red, they are crimson, They're black, brown and purple, On bushes they grow Or cluster on vine; My heart and my hands Go out in a welcome I'll take them and eat therri If only they're mine. 3 2 B y S 11 o ok FRIENDSHIP. Tell me, ye fairies of my dreams That float on happiest fancy streams, Is aught more prized than friendship true, Has aught a gladder, brighter hue? Tell me, ye children fresh as day, Who spend the hours 'mongst books and play, Is there a charm of more delight Than you have found in friendship bright? Tell me, young folks, whom all admire, Ye who to greatest deeds aspire, What echoing thoughts come quicker back Than those dear ones on friendship's track? Tell me, tell me, ye men so strong And women as you pass along, Do you in others more confide Than truest friendships that abide? Tell me, ye pioneers of life, Who've carried loads of joy and strife, Where, where in present or in past Do lingering memories longest last? Tell me, O! tell me, if you can, Ye who with fartherest vision scan, Is there a truer, purer love Than friendship knows, in realms above? BABY HELEN Take a flower the babe is saying As she looks up from her playing Making heart-strings tingle, gingle As her smiles among them mingle. Fairest rose among the roses, She's the queen of all the posies ; Sweeter far than peach or melon Is our darling Baby Helen. of Overlook 33 A FROG-LIKE DIVE. WHEN I was about seven or eight years old, we had one of those historical June fresh- ets, so detrimental to the partially drained lands of pioneer days. The large open ditches with their green grass-covered banks and sides cropped close by the grazing stock, were filled to their very brims with warm, clear, almost motionless water, so lately from the clouds of heaven, but now reflect- ing serenely the bright, glad sunbeams. How two little barefooted boys with their pants rolled up, enjoyed the wading and splashing through the broad shallow innundation of the meadow ! What thought they of drowning corn, wheat or potatoes ! My companion saying he could do what I couldn't, got down on all fours on the slightly elevated bank of a wide full ditch, and drank from its clear water. When he arose I said, "I guess I can do that, too," and proceeded to verify the statement. Suddenly he gave me an energetic push and, frog-like, I made my first dive. He helped me with the "Outing," but was instantly at a safe distance, for I was any- thing but cooled off, and forthwith undertook to administer what I supposed to be justice for so sud- den a violation of good faith, but his legs being longer than mine, he reached a shed some rods away, and by the aid of an adjoining fence had climbed to the roof just as I came to the bottom. If wrath had been angelic I certainly could have 34 B y S no ok flown to the top, but pounded fingers as I grappled the roof boards in a vain attempt to climb the dis- tance between the fence and eves, baffled my only chance of nearer conflict. A long-range chastise- ment only remained. Clubs, sticks, and roots flew into the air in quick succession. Fortunately for both of us there were no stones at hand. He was a good dodger, and his only sharp returning mis- siles were laughing taunts. The fire of my nature, combined with the warm sun and unusual activity of the occasion, soon dried my clothes. Muscle and wrath finally gave way and we each sat down, he on the shed and I on a stump, to rest and review the situation, and to think, — for thinking and reason had been for a time entirely out of the question. But ere the glorious sun had gone to> rest, we were playing together as happily as in the dawning of that eventful June day. A WEDDING WISH. As "One" you now launch O'er Love's Lake to glide, Glad wedded companions, Your choice by your side. Dear friends, while you journey In all kinds of weather, May your lives as these chimes Blend in sweetness together. o f O v erl o ok 35 GREAT GIFTS. To know the charm of music, And to feel its magic power, There must be within the breast, A kindred glow. So that when sweet sounds are heard The soul as quick as thought From its key-boards true and bright Sends back the echo. The same is true of singing, Or of poetry and story. It may fall on spots as blank As blank can be. Or in striking proper soil, It will surely not recoil, But will cause within the heart A jubilee. What a blessing is this gift Of discerning pleasant sounds, Or of rapturous harmonies That lift one higher, And to have ourselves enjoy Fine thoughts in beauty dressed, Which come from minds and pens That can inspire ! 36 B y S no ok A BOY ON GUARD. Only a boy on guard, And interests of vast concern Are put in his young hands While we from his needs would turn. Why is the boy on guard? What interests great are pending? Why stands he there alone Such mighty trusts defending? My friend, he guards himself Or would with armor furnished; He stands — for shame — alone With giant hosts contending. What interest greater, pray? Than he himself — your naming; Prepare the lad for foes! Don't spend the time in blaming. Your very name he wears He holds your reputation, Are these not interests great? Then give him preparation. Are we too busy now? Too shiftless or too lazy ? To help our boy in need? If so, we must be crazy. o f Ov erl o ok 37 Only a boy on guard, Only a boy they're saying; So they will rope him in For snares for boys they're laying. Fill up his active mind, Show him examples — any, Where wrongs of various kinds Have ruined households many. Only a boy on guard Perhaps another Lincoln; Fill full his heart with right His mind with noble thinking. RAIN DROPS. There's music in the rain drop's pattering song If all our interests are secure, But how about the ones unfortunate Who must the pelting storm endure? They sing no happy song as they pass by, Once merry with their joyful mirth, They're facing now an awful northeast storm, The coldest, dampest thing on earth. The rain drops have no joyful tune for them, Somehow in harmony they lack, They seem much gayer running down a roof Than down a person's neck or back. 3& B v S n o o k A DILEMMA. O! dear! I sigh, and this is why; — We take so many papers— That when I'm through a skimen 'em My head is filled with vapors. And then I plan as best I can To stop their plaguy comin,' But soon the agent comes around And keeps on drumin,' drumin.' The family they all start a howl, We want these, that and tuther, Don't cut that out, don't drop those off And sure we want another. You see our folks is built this way, At times our notions vary, Some's more for business than the rest Som'y sort 'o literary. If you like me was keepin' house And tryin' to have things slicky, With all these papers layin' round I guess that you'd feel kicky. I often sort and pick 'em up To make 'em look some better, But folks can't find the ones they want So sling 'em helter skelter. of Overlook 39 There's so much good in 'em mixed through To burn 'em up — I couldn't, — And yet, the papers vex me so I just think, — should or should'nt. — Some say that they would do that way But I'm too tinder hearted ; Still, there's no tellin' what I'd do If once I should get started. If some folks' homes were built up high With stories like sky scrapers, They'd fill 'em up and pack 'em full Of magazines and papers. I sympathize with Mrs. Pat Who used to say "Be japers, I rally don't know what to do With magazines and papers." MERRY CHRISTMAS. Who knows, but from trifles On this best of days, Some chords may awaken By chimes of good will, And thrill with sweet music Our friendship so dear, Thus rounding the sum of A glad Christmas cheer? 4° B y S no ok LIGHTS THEN AND NOW. Lights of the night With your glitter and glow, (We used to have tallow candles) My great admiration You never can know. Your light is so bright And so constant in glare, (We had to use the snuffers) The darkness recedes, And you see it no where. Your lights have no wick And are started so quick, (Ours sputtered and run down the side) If we'd had your kind We'd thought they were slick. And your lanterns With your crystal globes gleaming, (Ours were perforated tin) You travel the road Like only just seeming. With your electric Your gas, or your fine gasoline, (We burned pine knots sometimes) You must see the same sun Moon and stars we had seen. of Overlook 41 COLORED STARS. On July fourth at evening time On pinnacle of Overlook, Our family went to see the sights That in the darkness better look. We gazed in all directions round And saw the gleaming fireworks gay, In zealous patriotic towns From one to sixteen miles away. We saw the colored rockets shoot High up in azure to'ard the sky, Then bending o'er in graceful curve Burst to a hundred stars on high. Look quick they start in Rochester, Now Orion — See ! and Pontiac, There Utica shoots. Mt. Clemens, See! Romeo — O! do look back. A jolly time we had indeed — Of fireworks we had our fill, And celebrated just the same, But did'nt have to foot the bill. 42 B y S no ok BERRY PICKERS. When sun is up and dew most gone The pickers trail across the lawn With bright "good morning" for our cheer, ''Is Alice, Lizzie, Mary here?" "I thought I was a little late For so and so I had to wait, Where is best picking for to day I wish I knew, I'd go that way." Then, packing crate to full extent, They ask to which field Flossie went, And other names by less or more, Perhaps sometimes a rounded score. Away they go by ones, twos, threes, As lively as the busy bees, Saying to self I'll pick this day More berries bright than Bess or May. Returning soon with baskets high They set them down and say "Oh ! my Sixteen for No. 9 now write I'll have my quota picked by night." So when some sixty less or more Have glided through the fruit house door And you with needed smile or frown Have cheered some up or called some down, M O w w of Overlook 43 And packed and placed in rows complete, The berries bright with faces sweet, All appetites with magic power Welcome once more the glad noon hour. In squads they seek the shady nooks, With hunger stamped upon their looks, They spread the cloth and eat their lunch And talk and munch, and talk and munch. 'Neath maples, oaks, or cherry trees They sit and chat in cooling breeze, Speaking of facts, or fruits or fun, Of things that other folks have done. Some by "Lake Overlook" would go, While eating watch the froggies grow, And wish that they might have a boat So they could sit and sing and float Just see the campers full of fun, All t'wards their dining tables run, Hungry and thirsty, lank and thin, 'Praps, without breakfast they have been. And some with happiest virtues blest Make it more pleasant for the rest, Thus merry as a ringing chime They spend the hour of picnic time. But now the signal sounds at last For glad noon hour has quickly passed. And some will say (the livelier sorts) "Come girls, let's get those forty quarts." 44 B y S no ok And if through fields of fruit you stray To see if berry pickings pay This song you'll hear as round you go "Keep off my row, keep off my row." Sometimes in jest, sometimes, O ! dear, In tones you would not like to hear, Sometimes the voice is keyed so faigh T'would scare the quiet passer by. Keep off my row you little elf, This row you know is for myself, I'll tell of you, now get and go Keep off my row, keep off my row. Dear friend, you'd hear this song some day To cheer you in your work or play, These piercing tones you're sure to know "Keep off my row, keep off my row." Keep off my row in business strife, Keep off my row in social life, Keep off my row where e'er you go, Keep off my row, keep off my row. o f v erlo ok 45 QUIET REST. 'Midst life's perplexities and cares Who does not sigh for quiet rest, A Sabbath with its sacred joys To quicken hope within the breast? Enclosed within the soul of man, There is deep down, a hidden flame Struggling 'mongst rubbish cold and dark To warm the heart and joy reclaim. 'Tis sad while striving just for gold, The best of all should not be gained, That love to God and love to men, Neglected be and ne'er attained. 'Tis sad that any one should slave For seven days in every seven, And help with influence thus to kill The day for weary workers given. In all the tumult and the toil It must be they are greatly blest, Who plan and strive with eagerness To share a Sabbath's sacred rest. 46 B v S no ok DING DONG MUSINGS. The other day we strayed away For visiting and pleasure, To cross the bay, as one might say From work-a-day to leisure, And hear the engines' ding dong. Through fields of green and sights unseen 'Mongst stump lands often gliding We found our way at close of day Just by the shore abiding, And heard the steamer's ding dong. The waters tossed as o'er we crossed; We held to railing tightly, At last we feel our hearty meal Some how seems rising slightly, Eased not by ding, ding donging. Once more we're back to Mackinac That isle of greatest beauty, Where cabman's cry with prices high Made leaving it a duty, For steamboats toots and ding dongs. Adieu, adieu thou lovely "Soo" Your locks are your great treasure, Our hearts and pocketbooks are weak, We've lost them in a measure 'Mongst whistles and the ding dongs. of Overlook 47 But firmer grow as on we go Through forests sad, or cheery, To Seney that great waiting place So dreary, dreary, dreary; In need of ding, ding, dongings. At Grand "Mara" we stop and stay, T'is on the great Superior, With harbor fine and logs to mine It cannot be inferior; With many kinds of ding dongs. Its driveways lay around the bay With terraces so charming, On which in pioneeric style You'll find some trace of farming; With sawmills ding, ding dongings. The Nation's fine Life Saving Station, Performed with antics many, Giving a view to me and you And didn't charge a penny; For cannons booming ding dongs. But shocked we are for every where Cows roam the streets at leisure, Lawn-mowing alleys, park and shore In cow-bell fiendish measure ; With gingle, gingle, ding dongs. At mid-night's hour with ringing power They start my dreams astraying, Way back to ways of boy-hood days With kine and forests blending; Those happy, childish ding dongs, 4 8 B y S no ok I ride again through dust and rain My pony true and trusty, For cows that strayed through glen and glade With bells that ne'er grew rusty; With their far off echoing ding dongs. So as it seems in facts or dreams I'll find some treasured pleasure, To sort of cheer and bring more near My musings in a measure; 'Mongst business with its ding dongs. A SMILE AND PROMISE. A smile once hid In the heart of a maid, And longlingly shone From her roguish eyes. One day as she made A lunch for her beau, The smile got mixed In her dainty pies. The result was such That before the dawn, The eyes with their smile Were promised to John. of Overlook 49 BALANCED ROCKS. Among the Rocky Mountain crags I stand, Charmed by its pinnacles on high, Awed with its chasms dark and deep, I know not if to laugh or sigh. Is this gigantic mountain chain The work or play of earthquake shocks, Hurling in seeming blind dismay These huge, bold, jagged rocks? Here is a trio, stone on stone With ne'er a stay, of props or locks, Erect on tiny base each stands These giant, self-poised, balanced rocks. What! are there laws so delicate, And yet so greatly, grandly strong Among confusion's chaos here, Then charms like this shall be my song. O! balanced rocks, so plumb and true, Some bards may sing of fields and flocks, But at this time my soul is stirred With grand old Rockies balanced rocks. 5o B y S no ok VALLEY VILLAGE OUTING. WHEN about fourteen, a good friend and relative in the village of Rochester invited a companion and myself to attend for the winter the then quite famous place of learning on the west hill, and offered to exchange the hospitality of their home for our out-of-school hours and Sat- urdays. The invitation was gladly accepted. The journey thither was most romantic and exhilerating, being for some miles along the old Clinton and Kal- amazoo canal, from whose banks the meanderings of the wooded Clinton River could be closely fol- lowed near at hand. In one place it was crossed by an acqueduct, which to us was quaint, new, and wonderful. To see a large stream with wooden bottom and sides run high over a river was indeed interesting. We stood spellbound as we watched the great streams of leakage gush from its sides and fall into the water below. That day, and that walk, and talk, through nature's charming land- scapes, wild and fair, of hills and dales, unseen before, of woods and streams, of earth works and art works combined the whole way through, and after years of restful solitude, clothed with nature's loveliest garments, was, in inspiration, as a hundred days. Our tired feet knew no weariness, till wel- comed to a resting-place. Three different school principals in six weeks, was our lot and misfortune. The first good man had finished his contract. The second, much younger, with broad forehead and blazing red hair, had a temper rivaling and perhaps surpassing both. Pugilistic proclivities seemed to o f Overlo ok 51 lurk in every word and act, and before two weeks had expired fifteen of the older scholars, mostly gentlemen and ladies, as I believe, had been expelled from the institution. Revolvers were freely carried and I really expected to see the "Czar" thrown from the upper windows. Then came an outing for the principal (offender) also. Number three, a quiet intelligent man, was promptly installed and led the flock as if by magic. In those clays the winter terms contained many young men from eighteen to twenty-one years of age. My outing from school came some two weeks later, when a letter from home announced my father's severe illness, and saying that business demanded my presence. ANGEL THOUGHT. If you have a pleasant thought 'Tis an angel you have caught; If you have a thought sublime Pass it round and loose no time. If you have one — narrow — small — Hide it neath a great stone wall; Have and give the best you can Thus conform to God's great plan. 52 B y Sno ok BREAD AND BUTTER. How strange it is that everywhere Folks seem in such a flutter, About two very common things; I mean, — their bread and butter. The politicians talk of them And teachers sometimes mutter, As well as every kind of folks — About their bread and butter. Why don't they speak of pork and beans, Or fried cakes made with cutter? But all are fearfully afraid They'll lose their bread and butter. From places high or places low From palace or from gutter, Somehow they have the selfsame craze, They all want bread and butter. About two non-essentials thus They scheme and plan and putter, This always-going, never-lasting Everlasting bread and butter. of Overlook 53 LIVING PICTURES. Come, kindly friends, and with me go And view my living picture show; They are not fast to plastered walls Nor piled are they in vacant halls ; But float in memory's glad domain Oft coming to my soul again, Those living, moving pictures. We call them up by wireless phone From hiding places all their own; And, oft uncalled, they come by day Or into dreamland make their way Through pretty paths their fancies know, With loving look they come and go, My treasured living pictures. Here is a group from childhood's time With lives as happy as a rhyme; This one is children on the floor, With play things round them less or more; Stay! not so quick, move not so fast I want to kiss them e'er they're passed The living, lovely pictures. Ah ! • Mud Pies, by a little maid, No happier stunt was ever made, And Puppies, with the kittens play, They love the hearth on winter's day. A Nutting Party — see, O ! see, And isn't that you, and isn't that me, Among the moving pictures? 54 B y S no ok Here's coasting, as it was of old, With rosy cheeks and fingers cold, And skating, with its grace of poise, Its laugh of girls, and shout of boys. There, they are pouring forth from school, With animation now the rule, These jolly, moving pictures. But scenes are coming fast and thick, To see a few, we must be quick ; Here's hunting, fishing, and the swim, And horse-back ride and scrap with Jim, A walk with Ell, a chat with Will, A carriage ride down by the mill, Such fastly moving pictures. And Home, dear Home, its place the best In which to work, and love and rest ; Tables we see with glad repast, And friendships that forever last, Children — God bless the darlings dear, As they grow up from year to year, Making these living pictures. Friends, if your fancy so incline, Visit again this show of mine See then perhaps a hundred more, As they pass by the poem door And with an ecstacy sublime Make doubly glad our resting time, O ! lovely memory pictures. ofOverlook 55 BEAUTIES OF HORTICULTURE. Oh! Horticulture's lovely realm How grand it is, how charming; Its beautiful gracefulness is such As dignifies good farming. So vastly great this glad domain, In various things abounding, If we once try to sum them up, It really is astounding. Have we not wrestled in our dreams With thoughts that gave us pleasure, And caught the language of the trees To cheer us in a measure? Who's failed to find in shrub or plant Companionship refreshing, Or felt 'mongst flowers a holier thrill? Then thank God for the blessing! And fruits, oh dear, a thousand kinds, No end to their designing, Raise them we should, if they are good, And quit our dull repining. But good enough is none too good, My fancy's not assuming; The curious kinds you'll find perhaps 'Mongst trees with poems blooming. 56 B y S no ok ONCE IN A WHILE. Once in a while I sigh for quiet rest As other weary mortals do, For some I'm told are built that way And possibly it may be you. Once in a while I say good bye to work, With all its complex care and strife, And wander out 'mongst trees and field To rest a while and gain new life. Once in a while with nature true I talk, In language that the heart doth know, And feel the answers as they come In pleasant whispers soft and low. Once in a while I look beyond myself With heart confiding in a Father's love And gain new courage for this life From the eternal powers above. Once in a while I love with friends to look Across the sunlit valley's rills Where stand God's landscape pictures, grand, Against the everlasting hills. Once in a while I take the poet's pen, Jotting my glimpses in a book, So I may not forget the charms That only those may know who look. o o h-r A > & O PP o o -J « > o of Overlook 57 OVERLOOK BOULEVARD. If loveliest landscape Would make you a bard, See ''Overlook's" beauty — Its grand boulevard. With quiet oaks standing In carpets of green, To charm and to shield you From sun's glowing sheen. Look away o'er the valley For miles up and down, Watch grandeur of hillsides Beyond the fair town. See the homes and the fields With forests a part. Most beautiful painting Of nature and art. Come and frame for us now In poem or song, A five mile wide picture By fifteen miles long. 5 8 By Sno ok OUR TWO STORY HOUSE PLANT. We have a vine, A lovely rambling vine, And you will fail to guess, As others have, From whence it comes or how, Unless in these few lines I tell you, now. Its starting place Is in the basement warm; Outside the great stone wall In slanting window, Large and light and long, It grows in native soil With tendrils strong. Here in the floor Two tiny holes were made, And through them it was led With greatest care To the sitting room above, Where all enjoy it still With ardent love. It climbed the walls Close by the window's side And, spreading out and round With double branch, It loosely hangs and twines 'Mongst pictures peeping Through the vines. of Overlook 59 The mild-eyed Stag As if from forest come, Looks through the twigs more wild Than formerly; And quiet, docile sheep Try hard from browsing leaves Themselves to keep. Our "Wide-awake" With hazel eyes Is looking out as calm As from a cosy bower; She seems so glad to say, "I love this leafy spot, Tis just like May." And old Farm Scenes, That's talked for many a year In accents grandly dear, Of rural life, Now sings in vine-clad lays Of dearest home-life there In by-gone clays. My wife and daughter Claim its better half; And I from winter's cold Its roots defend; While all enjoy its going Around the sunny room As it keeps growing. At which I sit and write, And o'er this desk 60 B y S no ok It casts a charming glance Of friendship true, Which you may share with mine, If in these lines you see Our lovely vine. SHORT YEAR. January, February, March; You've slipped from our sight too soon, We're not ready to let you go But here comes April, May, and June. July, August, September; The summer has gone so fast, October, November, December, Why! the little short year is passed. AVON. Avon, glad Avon, lovely queen, Thy place among the township band Of Oakland county's twenty-five Is simply grand. Thy tripple streams with pebbly strand In valleys banked with hillsides green, Give landscape pictures beautiful Wherever seen. The Clinton with its wealth of power, And Paint Creek's charming little ways, With Stony Creek's blithe rippling stream, All sing thy praise. o f Ov erl o ok 61 THE CENTENNIAL TRIP IN RHYME. DEDICATED TO THE COMPANION OF MY MFE, AND OF MY JOURNEY. The sights we saw along the way; The grand, the fanciful, the queer; Mixed up in comical array And written here. Once in the days gone by, In the bright month of May : We left our pleasant home, And sped our way Along the iron track, O'er rivers deep and wide, O'er watery plain In Canada's domain. O'er bridge suspended high Between the water and the sky. Through York State's varied scenes Of level lands, Of mountains towering high, Of valleys deep, Of streamlets rushing, gushing on O'er pebbly strand, O'er ragged, jagged beds Deep 'twixt the overhanging rocks On either side, To the more quiet, peaceful waters Of the Hudson. Oh, Empire State! Thy scenery is grand, Thy cities large, The air above thee pure and good. 62 B y S no ok Yet best of all And fairest far of all thy charms, Is the historic river of the past; The glorious Hudson. And yet thou'rt now as then ; So calm, so bright so grand ; Thy banks are everlasting hills, Thy sources everlasting rills. And who that sails Upon thy bosom fair, Can help but raise His voice for thee in praise? Yes, we that pleasure had, To journey and to talk, To sail upon thy waters fair, To climb high hills and rest us there. To gaze about from our retreat, And think how tired were our feet. To watch the shadows thus, All free from care; And see them chase each other Throug'h the air. And then away up High Point, Three thousand feet at least; We did enjoy our friends, And their nice basket feast. And on the topmost crag, In calm composure snug, Viewing the fields below, Was a potato bug. He seemed a general to be, And I have not a doubt, Was laying plans for all his hosts To eat the people out. But tired at last, of Overlook 63 Our steps we did retrace ; And on another dav, And in another place, We sought to try The untried darkness Underneath a lofty hill. We found an artificial cave And entered in ; We saw the gleaming lights Of workmen there ; We heard the clanking of their drills Among the rocks. We heard the blasting thunders roll ; We felt the power That shook the stones beneath our feet And o'er our heads. We felt that power, I say. And from its presence Thought to run away. This was near Kingston town, That place so far renowned, Where kind and jovial friends we found. Still further on we strayed, Where Washington had stood A hundred years before. We occupied the self-same chair, We passed the self-same door; And yet with all our care We could not find him there. "Gone is the great and good, Gone is the brave and true ;" In this same spot toiled he, And wrought for me and you. Yes, to preserve this goodly land He toiled just here with head and hand. 64 B y S no ok This place is known in fame, And Newburgh is its name. And then again we tried The steamer's noiseless glide. We left at Cornwall's pier Without a thought of fear, And hardly could refrain, While passing down the main, Of saying oft again, Oh, dear! look here! And isn't this queer? These banks so steep and high, They almost hide the sky. And my neck is out of joint While looking for West Point. And when our eyes were turning From that great seat of learning, My thoughts did wander back Along the rugged track Of other days, When I was differently engaged, Where battle fiercely raged. But little time is there In musing thus, to spare ; And now I do declare These sights are very rare. We little else could say But, Oh ! how beautiful the way, How grand, how fair; I'd like to live just there. But, Ah! too soon A host of steeples come in sight, And ere the clock is noon, We're ready to alight. o f Ov erlo ok 65 It was a lovely day in June That pleasure trip was made; And we will not forget it soon Unless for it we're paid. And now we're in New York, How wild the people seem ; Or, may be, it is Cork, Or, is it but a dream? The street cars will provide, Amid this rushing throng, A quiet place to hide; So let them jog along. Across the city thus we sped, From river North to river East, And felt as if we needed bread, Or something like a feast. They ferried us across from Grand, Until we readied the other side, When glad was I to reach the land Where once before I did abide. . We found our friends, And found them friends indeed ; For who is not a friend That cloth the hungry feed? The city we would see, The park we would behold ; And that was fun for me, And all the rest, I'm told. 66 B y S no ok For Central Park, you know, If donkeys you would find, Is' just the place to go; You'll see them tho' you're blind. And rides, and drives, and walks, And many a thing that's queer, And sails upon the lake, and talks; You can enjoy them here. We rode upon a car, 'Twas elevated high, It did not seem to jar, But really seemed to fly. These cars don't feel above the rest, Though 'bove the busy throng they live; A ride upon them is best Of all that city cars can give. And then upon the bay we sailed, Where ocean steamers ply, Where varying tides have never failed, TJiere islands we passed by. There's Governor's, and Staten, too, With forts and cannon many, Which can be seen by anv crew Without an English penny. And ships from all the world are here, From England, France, and Spain. And although it may strange appear, They're going back again. o f O v erlo ok 67 And now we leave the quiet bay And launch upon the deep, We are not going far away, So friends you need not weep. The waters now grow clear and blue, I wonder at the line, I wonder it don't break in two Amongst this splashing brine. The boat is rocking now too much, I hope the wind won't rise, For if it keeps on doing such I fear that we'll capsize. At last we reached the quiet strand Behind the sand banks high, And how we enjoyed that funny land I'll tell you by and by. We then and there those sand drifts crossed, And went straight on our way; We saw the waters, how they tossed Their billows and their spray. It was the first and only time We ever saw Old Ocean's grand display ; I hear its roaring still. I see the breakers break upon the beach And spread themselves in glassy form Far up the pebbly strand; And then again recede, to meet Another rolling, tumbling, rumbling surf. And thus, from morn till night, From dark till dawn, They ever climb, but get no further on. 68 B y S no ok A school of porpoises I saw, They plunged along the deep And seemed to have but little law, Just like a flock of sheep. We sought for shells along the shore, Then from the surf we ran ; And of the treasures, we obtained Enough to fill a can. And shall I tell about the park, With Prospect for its name? For we considered it a mark, And wished to know its fame. We sat within its shady bowers, We saw the fountains play; How rare and fair those pretty flowers That bloomed along our way. The swan, the ducks, the sheep, the deer. Were viewed by every one, And wasn't it a little queer That we should have such fun? And then again we went to see The Camera-Obscura ; And if I skip this wondrous sight I'm 'fraid you'll act like fury; It makes a living picture there Of all that walks or stands; It can't be beat, I do declare, In this or other lands. of Overlook 69 And Greenwood should be mentioned, too It is a solemn place : For many go there year by year, And ne'er their way retrace. It is the city of the dead, And friends have made it fair With flowers and stones, above the heads Of dear ones resting there. Among them, too, are some of ours, No more with us they talk ; Yet loving words sound in our ears As journeying on we walk. Now for New York and all its scenes, I think I've said enough. There's much that's like a pleasant dream, And many a thing that's rough. Still, if I'd undertake to write The quarter that we saw, It would not be a burden light. For either pen or claw. So skipping Stewart's and Broadway, And Tribune building high, And Blackwell's, where old Tweed did stay While fed on cake and pie, And forty 'leven other things, Both picturesque and grand, Which to my mind my memory brings From where I have them canned, 7° B y S no ok I will proceed upon my way, And leave the din and care, And p'raps come back some other day If money I can spare. Now, through Jersey we go, The land of wonderful stories ; How often I've heard, I don't know, 'Bout British, and Whigs, and Tories. But those days are past, Those years of darkness are gone ; How changed is the scene now at last On this, the Centennial's dawn. Now, at Trenton we stop, There are some in the town we would see ; And nothing our visit shall crop, Until 'mongst the Quakers we be. We attended their meeting, No preacher, or books, there appeared, But closed with the funniest greeting; How different from what we were reared. A jail, too, may there be viewed, Or, prison, more properly speaking; A quiet retreat for the rude, And where they must work for their keeping. And a bridge at every turn, And a score of potteries, or more ; There's always something new to learn, Unless it seems too great a chore. of Overlook 7 1 The Doctor's house is grand, His family is kind and good, They have some style at their command, Especially when they take their food. But we must hasten on, We cannot stop to hear sweet singing; Nor linger on the pleasant lawn, For don't you hear the car bell ringing? So stepping on the cars And hastening away, We're quickly o'er the Delaware In Pennsylvania. And splendid sights appear As quickly on we glide, We're coming to the city now Where wonders do abide. We crossed the Schuylkill stream, Or, river, it may be; And then the big show came in sight, And all cried, "See! oh, see!" The flags were flying there From scores of standards high. How beautiful and grand the scene, We'll view it by and by. And sure enough we did : But, pshaw ! who e'er can tell, We could not even see it all : I'm sure it was no sell. 7 2 By Sn o ok And where shall I begin. Now, that I'm through the fence? For if you want the hundredth part, There's no use to commence. We wandered round the grounds, We rested in the shade; And saw, oh, dear ! what didn't we see ? So much was there displayed. We saw the open cars, For five cents you could ride Around the grounds and back again, Clear from the other side. We stood upon a tower And saw a picture grand, We saw the city, streams and parks, Which all seemed near at hand. So many nations there, With finery rich and rare, Crowded into those buildings great, And no more room to spare. The Chinese had a place, And something there to do, But the queerest of their queeries Was their long braided queue. And then to see the Japs, Those small-eyed, curious chaps, With comic look, and jesture too, A selling off" their traps ; of Overlook 73 Which were composed, I'm told, Of things both new and old ; Brought from the ancient fatherland, And, gracious ! how they sold. And restaurants so many, Amongst them Lafayette; To see their operations there Would make you laugh, I bet. To sit beneath the trees Upon a wooden bench, And listen to their talking queer, You'd know at once 'twas French. And there was Hunter's Camp Within a shady nook ; We lingered there to rest and talk, Beside a little brook. Then to the Dairy went, And a few minutes spent In eating cream, the very best, Until we were content. The Agricultural Hall Was also by us viewed ; 'Twas filled with implements and tools, And every kind of food, Put up in best of style, So curious and pretty, I do believe their owners were Either quite wise or witty. 74 B y S no ok The Government Building, No matter what you say, Has charms in its departments For the whole of one June day. And you'd he lost in wonder Amid a din like thunder, If in Machinery Hall you'd walk And even try to talk. Such whirling, twirling noise, And whanging, banging sound, Comes from that complex gearing For fourteen acres round. And that great engine, too, You say what can't it do, If with such perfect ease as this It drives its power all through. And if a scene like this Shall cause us to amaze, The thoughts of Him who made us all, Should cause our thanks and praise. Memorial Hall is grand, And from its pictures fair, Of this and other lands, We scarce ourselves could tear. And there the sculptor's skill In marble may be traced; Which can endure for many a year, And should not be defaced. of Overlook 75 The Woman's Pavilion Just pleased my better half, And 'cause I wished to go away She thought I was a calf. And what was there to see, But needlework and lace, And all such fine and puttering things, I'd choose some other place. And just the same took place, But in a different way, When, 'mongst machinery we strolled Upon another day. Which proves the saying true, Whatever some may say, "That boys ain't girls, and girls ain't boys, And can't be any way." The fountains on the grounds Were wondrous, rich and rare, The playing waters were so bright, Indeed ! we thought them fair. And now with all my telling, Either in rhyme or spelling, I can't forget the Fog Horn's roar, Or it's unearthly yelling. Nor yet, the pleasant chimes, Which we there heard betimes, And said by travelers to be Like those of other climes. 76 B y S no ok But I've been made to feel A sort of joyous pain, When from their tower I've heard the peal Of "Home again, Home again." For e'en a place like this, Exciting, grand and gay, With all its fine attractions fair, Can't drive my home away. You see, I love that spot, And if I from it roam, There's something ringing in my ears, A sound of "Home, Sweet Home." Now to tell about that Garden, (Zoological is its name), Where are beasts, and birds, and reptiles, Some of which are not so tame. And to show them in their fierceness, As they appeared upon that day, Pr'aps might burst your imagination, And I don't believe 'twould pay. So I'll mention but a few, Such as lion and giraffe, Elephant and kangaroo, (And the latter made us laugh). Alligators, bears and swan, And the "Rhy-no-ce-ri-us," Fastened in his iron pen, So he could not make a fuss. of Overlook 77 We visited the U. S. Mint, To see them make up gold ; I only wish they'd given us As much as we could hold. 'Twould seem from all that monstrous pile. Those bags tied up so tight, They might have given a pocket full Of coin that glittered bright. . Now, as for Philadelphia, I've but a word to say; And isn't it right to say it now, Before I go away? The people there were very kind, And order was the rule ; They must have learned politeness young. PVaps when they went to school. So good bye, old Centennial, We start for home to-day; We've had, 'tis true, a pleasant time, But longer cannot stay. Indeed, we're anxious now to go, We're crammed to such extent With sights and sounds that here abound, That surely we're content. So in the cars a seat we'll find — No fooling now you see ; — It must not be too far behind, And large enough for you and me. 7 8 B y S no ok Yes, here it is, now isn't this fun? With this gay thought in mind, As swiftly o'er the track we run, Our Michigan home we'll find So as we journeyed on said I, "But why these window grates?" Said wife, "to keep the stones, I 'spose, From falling on our pates." Well, I declare! what roads are these? It is no time for prose; "Look out!" said I, "a mountain passed Two inches from your nose." O Lehigh! thou'rt sublime and grand, — Though "scarey," I confess; Thy banks so rocky, steep and wild, We couldn't expect less. Mauch Chaunk, you know, is on the road ; Much Chunks, it ought to be, For naught but chunks doth there appear As far as you can see. And, oh! such long, long trains of coal, Were meeting us along that road ; The locomotives, sure, were strong, To carry such a load. So, after hours of uphill ride, Along that crooked, rock-bound stream, We almost wished that we were home, Behind the old farm team. of Overlook 79 But when the summit was attained, What grandeur did we there behold? While looking o'er the valley fair, What sights did there unfold? Beneath our feet was old Wilkesbarre, A city of far-famed renown, And also 'long the shining stream, A village and a town. And farms, with different colored fields, Were scattered through the picture grand ; And forest patches, far and near, Were dotted o'er the land. I wish the cars had stayed awhile, And given us time to think and talk; Why couldn't they go a little slow, And stop their run, and walk. But down the grade we're going now, We've twenty miles they say to go Before we reach the quaint old town Which lies so far below. Oh, Susquehanna valley fair, Although they did not let us stop, We saw thy beauties at a glance While on the mountain top. So on we journeyed at their gait And rode, and laughed, and talked all day; And finally left the rough old State Of Pennsylvania. 80 B y S no o k New York State we again will try, We enjoyed it once, you know ; And on the Erie road will fly To ancient Buffalo. For modern Buffaloes, I think, Are found much further west, Where fierce, wild Indians do abound, And the grasshopper pest. The Falls were seen and heard by us, The great Niagara, you know ; And if you've never seen that sight, 'Twill pay you well to go. Be sure and stand below the Falls, And cast your eye aloft, and see That water mountain rolling o'er, Then for your safety flee. And at Suspension Bridge, As slowly o'er we crossed, We saw a man, so wild was he, We feared he might be lost. He was crossing o'er the rapids, (Yes, that and nothing less) ; And the way he was about it, I'm sure you cannot guess. The dashing waters far below . Spake not a word of hope; As safely o'er the stream he crossed, Hung in a basket from a rope. OUTING ON ST. CLAIR RIVER of Overlook 81 And have you ever thought to know How the ships from far away, In their journeys to and fro, Pass the dread Niagara? Why, they go up and down the stairs, Stairs of water, do you say? Yes, and it's the least of cares, Either in the night or day, For the lock-men let them through, Lifting, lowering, step by step, Either when the sky is blue, Or, when darkness round hath crept. Ontario Lake we passed along, The railroads run so near the shore, That from the windows we could see The sail-boats floating o'er. And we will not forget The little Lake St. Clair ; For on the other side Is our own State so fair. So near it? yes, at last, So near the loved and true; Why don't the car wheels hurry on, That we may hasten, too? But now, the objects 'long the way Seem quite familiar to our sight; And hanging on the gate we see Our darling baby boy, so bright. 82 B y S no ok And strange to say, yet true it is, No other sight so charmed our view In all the wonders we have seen Since here, we bid our three adieu. Our relatives and friends We found alive and well; And of the "Trip Centennial" I have no more to tell. For we are now at home Just where our trip began, In the County of Macomb, And State of Michigan. So, thanking the Father for keeping and care, For the journey abroad, and the comforts at home, We go to the labors this life doth afford, Contented and happy, not wishing to roam. NEW YEAR WISH. Be glad and be happy My friend, though you're absent, Accept this our token, A thought for your cheer; May memories be strengthened And friendship be lengthened For there's joy in the wish Of a happy new year. o f O v erl o ok 83 OUR OWN SWEET THOUGHTS. "Our own sweet thoughts ;" How strange the wording seems, They come and go like angels, Who have met us in our dreams. "Our own sweet thoughts;" When no clearer friend is nigh, How they charm our souls anew, Giving not a reason why. "Our own sweet thoughts;" They cheer us by confiding, When some our acts would misconstrue By cruel, reckless chiding. "Our own sweet thoughts;" They meet with others often, And thus by truest friendship, The ills of life they soften. "Our own sweet thoughts ;" Refresh our hearts with cheering, For visits oft we chide thee not, They're all the more endearing. 84 B y Sno ok TAU RHO SIGMA. "At the last meeting of the Tau Rho Sigma club held on Monday night, April 15, J. J. Snook presented a series of original poems, written during the present century. These poems possess much merit and the club decided to have them published in series. Mr. Snook has written on a variety of themes, and the ease and fluency of his style is quite marked. Where there is merit we wish to recognize it." — President of the Club. NO "HOME" WITHOUT LOVE. We have heard of "sweet home" and its glory; Have heard of its charms always new ; Have read it in blank verse and story, And thought if 'twere false or 'twere true. And what is a home, think it over with me, We are certainly anxious to know. Is it only a place to stay in and eat in, When there's no other place to go? There are houses we know, of great grandeur, There are dwellings of loftiest dome, That could not be called by the title Of those dearest of names, "home, sweet home." For home is a place where love lingers, Where it flourishes, blossoms and thrives. Where its fruitage is known by its doings, In helping and blessing all lives. Love's a wonderful plant in its growing; Comes down from on high, without doubt, But is marred, and sometimes most extinguished, By having its life trampled out. of Overlook 85 Love grows, it is said, like a delicate rose, Lives on smiles, good will and kind deeds. Its roots must strike deep in a confidence soil, And be kept from the blight of foul weeds. Yes, there is something for each one to do, If we'd keep this best boon from above ; There may be a palace, a cottage or house, There can be no "home" without love. NEATNESS AND DISPATCH. This world is not so bad a world, But from it we may snatch, Profit and pleasure, if we work, With neatness and dispatch. For time is money, we are told, And we should try to catch The spirit that would guide our ways, With neatness and dispatch. Hang up this motto in your mind, Then let your actions match. Business will prosper, you will find, With neatness and dispatch. 86 B y S n o o k CHRONIC CRITICS. A grain or two of criticism, 'Mongst words of praise, if they are due, Are right and proper in their place, And won't hurt me or you. From honest critics. But there are those who know naught else, Whose only theme is caw, caw, caw. They spend their time in hunting flaws With greedy beak and claw. The chronic critics. They cannot stand a hearty laugh, There's lack of "culchaw" in it, Or the boy that whistles from the heart, They can't endure a minute. Such chronic critics. For fields of bloom they have no eye. For happiest bird song have no ear. A sunbeam is for them too warm, The sky too bright and clear. Queer chronic critics. They rend good books, tear sweetest song, And gems of thought they trample down. Their tastes we do not understand, Their only smile a frown. Those chronic critics. of Overlook 87 To them the whole great world is wrong, They find no charm in this or that, A perpendicular is too plumb, A horizontal most too flat. For chronic critics. BOBBING UP SERENELY. That Mary had a little lamb No one would dare to doubt, But all are not so well agreed Why lammy was turned out. 'Tis said it went to school one day With fleece as white as snow, And wished to be among the kids, But teacher said, "Not so, For kids and lambs are not allowed To stay in the same fold." So hastily she put the lamb Out in the winter's cold. 'Mongst zero winds and icy storms He felt the insult keenly, His body froze, but his story goes Oft bobbing up serenely. 88 By Snook LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. INTRODUCTORY. Lookout Mountain, two miles from Chattanooga, Tenn., is and has been for years a renowned summer resort. Its iso- lated position and picturesque grandeur make it unusually attractive, and as a sentinel, about two thousand feet high, it stands overlooking several of the great battlefields of "the sixties." The following poem was first read at a union meeting of the G. A. R. and W. R. C. of this city, May 3, 1901 : Have you seen old "Lookout" grand, Standing on the plain sublime. Lifting high his rocky face In a brighter, purer clime ? Staunch and strong alone is he, Where he's stood for ages past, And perhaps will there be standing While the lapse of ages last. He' is looking off around him At the landscape's gorgeous glow, And its ever charming beauties As the seasons come and go. How I wish you could have seen him, As I did in days long past; Clothed in nature's loveliest garments And with grandeur unsurpassed. See him in the early morning, As the sun's first glimmering light Raised the cloud cap from his forehead, Showing us his visage bright. of Overlook 89 Or as quickly it was spreading O'er the mount with rapid strides, Tinting tree tops, rocks, and gorges — Making pictures on its sides. How this greatness and this beauty Filled my soul to overflowing, And I thanked the God of heaven From a heart that felt its glowing. Then, where river, road, and mountain Came together at his base, There we camped throughout the winter, Though it was a lovely place. But when Spring returned in mildness, Had to move two miles away; Still were ever longing, hoping, On his top to dwell some day. Oft we saw the waving signals From the lookout point so high ; Telling of the army's movements, That were there to do or die. And we always will remember This great mountain, high and bold, As he stood when war was raging In those days that tried our soul. With what sorrow and what pity. Viewed he then the battle raging, When a hundred thousand soldiers Then each other were engaging. 9° B y S no ok How he gazed at Chattanooga, And at Orchard Nob in shrouds ; Felt the thunder of artillery On himself above the clouds. And at bloody Chickamauga, With ten thousand dead and dying, And at Mission Ridge, in sorrow, With the blue and gray there lying. Awful deeds — but necessary That all men might freedom know — There he witnesseth forever As the ages come and go. Sometimes climbed we to his summit, Finally lived upon his brow, Saw a hundred things a minute That I cannot tell you now. Yet a few I'd like to mention, Which to choose I hardly know, My picture gallery is so full And there are none I would let go. Now, there's the glittering Tennessee, Winding, without a break or joint, Round old Cameron as it glides Past heel and toe of Moccasin Point. One day a dozen boys of us Were sitting on this ledge, right here, Our feet all hanging over While looking at the sky so clear. of Overlook 91 But underneath and far and wide, The clouds like the ocean seemed, While a few small islands far away In the sparkling sunshine gleamed. To< us it was a wondrous sight — We gazed, we talked, admired — By its great beauty we were charmed, By its raptures were inspired. The boys far down on the plains below Said it rained right down like fun, But we hadn't seen a single drop As we sat there in the sun. Going to Lulu Lake and Falls Was the greatest treat of any ; But they were five rough miles away, And not enjoyed by many. Seeing a lovely mountain lake Is not a very common thing, With sides and shores of massive rock And surface clear as a crystal spring. Right through the forest, wild and rolling, The blithe creek rushes along, Till at last on the bright lake's bosom For a while is lost its song. But time is short, the falls are near, There's sparkle in its story; For seventy feet it's pouring down A grand, continuous glory. 92 B y S no ok O Lake of sweet memory's vision, O Falls of my gladdest song, The name of "Lulu" brings to me A charm that will last life long. There were rocks on our way returning Piled high in a curious way, And we boys went under the danger For you know that boys will play. Rock City we then tried exploring, But its streets were so far down, To the bottom we looked with caution And thought what a queer rock town. O rocks, lakes, gorges, streams, and rills, With all historic scenes about, With sadness now we say adieu And leave you on this grand "Lookout. And then way down, and farther down The dark deep gorge 'tis rushing, Till in the valley far beneath The meadows 'twill be flushing. of Overlook 93 GOOSE QUILLS, GOOD NIGHT. What is the matter with my pen? I've tried and tried again To have it sparkle with a glow, But still it answers, no. It will not write about the sky For that's so very high ; Nor tell about the shimmering moon 'Cause it goes down so soon; Nor yet about the twinkling star For it's away so far; Nor dazzling sun that hangs in space For none may see its face ; Nor howling storm with wintry breeze For ink would surely freeze; Nor banks so high of sparkling snow, No thought dare through them go. Sun, moon, stars, storm or star-lit sky, All from my goose quill fly; It cannot scribble thoughts to you And so it says, adieu. Poetic sparks ignite no flame, I'm sure the pen's to blame ; By candle light it will not write, My lucky friend, good night. 94 B y S no ok [On August 5, 1903, accompanied by my wife, and later joined by our son and bride, we sought some of the friends and wonders lying between Michigan and the Pacific ocean. The following hastily written jottings were furnished in communi- cations for publication, and afterward and before our return put in booklet form for our friends. — Author.] TRIP AND OUTING. LEAVING Beautiful Rochester and the three t clear, rapid streams of Avon, with their banks of charming landscapes, would seem unneces- sary for those seeking the bewitchings of nature, and yet it is well sometimes for one to stroll out and see by comparison what the world is like. From Detroit to Chicago the grandeur of Mich- igan, as seen through the dreams of a sleeping-car berth, is uneventful till the day-dawn reveals the silvery waves of the "Big Lake on the West Side." Then gliding along its very edge by the once-famed World's Fair grounds — may its memory be ever sacred — one watches the miles of stone-filled break- water, saying to the splashing tides in unmistakable language : "Thou shalt not wash Chicago off the map!" Northern Illinois and Central Iowa, with their great waving fields of corn and grain, and far- stretching home-scenes of landscape, interspersed with herds of cattle, hogs and horses, only two small flocks of sheep being discovered, make vary- ing pictures by the hundred. More little colts than five years ago presented their neat forms. Did not see much clover and but two threshing machines at ofOverlook 95 i work, although thousands on thousands of acres of oat and wheat shocks were standing in the fields. The streams everywhere were swollen and muddy, especially the Mississippi and Cedar rivers. The double-tracked Northwestern bridge, 3,000 feet long and 175 feet high, causes one to feel as though he were getting up in the world, while the woman sharp who is trying to smuggle two large children without pay makes it interesting for con- ductor and passengers. At Woodbine, Iowa, Rev. J. Eugene Snook and bride boarded the train and joined us. The next morning revealed to our open eyes for perhaps a hundred miles, prairie ranches seemingly as flat as a floor, and great herds of cattle, some we thought a half-mile long — I mean the herds. The North Platte, for many miles with all widths and no depths or banks, filled with thousands of flat, mostly barren, sand islands a few inches high, would fur- nish sand enough to make all Nebraskans gritty. Well, I got the sand out of my eyes enough to see a great variety of land and landscape in Northeast- ern Colorado and something of the irrigated fields and much-talked-of irrigating ditches and canals. With our knowledge and experience concerning rivers in the East one might wonder how it could be done, but when we come to know that the land is quite flat and but little above the water, which has a current with a good fall, it is easy to see how these ditches can go back into the land at several degrees angle and extend sometimes for miles, leaving large tracts between it and the river to be watered once a week by small streams from the ditches. Many fields of corn, oats, alfalfa, and potatoes thus treated were looking very good, while in many cases adjoin- 9 6 B y S no ok ing lands not so treated were left to their inherited fate of growing short, stunted sage brush. The great trouble seems to be that the distant mountains do not furnish enough water so that the unfortu- nates further down find that the ditches and canals have stolen the river dry. We saw perhaps a hun- dred miles of dry or nearly dry river bottoms. A little space has been taken with this subject, believ- ing that many others will be interested as I have been, and knowing that it is becoming a problem of national discussion. Greeley, in the center of one of the best watered districts, is well shaded and beautiful. Friends would see the sights in a large auto. When the trip made our short stay pleasant. At Denver our part) was about half completed, as our machine was des- cending a sharp grade there came a gliding street car, also down grade at right angles. The screams of the ladies — I wonder if they were heard in Mich- igan — roused the stupid chauffeur and a collision was narrowly averted. Two blocks more when he came just against the side of a lady's rig, we thought best to bid him a hasty good-bye, without compen- sation, and would have reported him but for lack of time. There is nothing longer than the Rocky Mountain chain, reaching nearly from the north to the south pole and wide enough in some places to satisfy its most eager admirers. Pike's Peak is one of the links, thousands of which we have seen with bulging eyes. Of ©ourse the dwellers of Colorado Springs know only the one mountain and try to impress it on visitors, but we escaped uninjured by retreat- ing into a deep and delightfully shaded canyon, whose high upright walls extended many hundred OUTING MRS. SNOOK CELEBRATES BIRTHDAY AT PIKE'S PEAK ofOverlook 97 feet toward a bright sky. It's lovely, clear, cooling stream has just tumbled over the seven solid rock falls, whose lateral distance about equals their per- pendicular. A thirty-six mile carriage ride through two of these stunning gorges, through the Garden of the Gods and Manitou, with its great boiling soda and iron water springs, free to everyone, with free waiters and free grounds, makes one feel refreshed in more ways than one. An hundred miniature eight by ten photographs would express only a feeble idea of the soul-filling grandeur of those immense perpendicular, leaning, paradoxical rocks, and one might well doubt his eyes when he sees the water often running up hill along the charming drives. It was a day of dreams more than realized, and we were so glad that the mountains had waited all these years for us to come and see them. The next day we gained five thousand feet more altitude, making over eleven thousand feet while climbing the edges of precipice and gorge to Cripple Creek, the greatest gold fields of the world. During these dizzy heights and short curves a person is apt to think he has taken his life in his hands, or put it in the engineer's, and that his heart has located in his throat. About a million dollars in gold is taken monthly from these mines, and we believe it might just as well be a hundred times more. Victor and Goldfield, mining towns, were visited in the afternoon, going by "low line" and returning by high land electric. The mountains are literally covered with dugouts, now the graves of once high financial hopes. To climb a mountain range by rail and steam, through canyons deep, crooked, wild, and awfully grand, with towering, overhanging, giant, balanced 9 8 B y S no ok rocks a thousand feet above, poised as maddened vultures on every side, disputing the right of way, while double engines pant for breath on narrow groove or suspended bridge above a cataract of raging, foaming torrents, whose roars of pain from being dashed from cruel rock to rock, even drown the noise of rumbling, echoing train, is to put one in a position where he becomes for the time very small and frail, but, gaining self-possession and courage because not at once killed, he begins to wonder what holds the great cracked, jagged moun- tains above his head, while companions begin to shout, "O, look way up there!" "On the other side!" "Look back!" "O, do look down quick!" till one thinks, "O, my neck!" and wishes he had a rubber one. Then sudden as a lightning flash a thousand thrills are buried in the blackness of a tunnel for a moment's reflection, only to burst again on grandeur still more grand. Finally the great walls begin to have more slope, and the angry stream fewer cataracts and falls, the hours and the everlasting hills glide by, yet still we're climbing, climbing. Way down in valleys, deep, small cultivated patches cheer the eye, and just close by, almost within our reach, in great pro- fusion, the wild mountain flowers — God bless them — are nodding a welcome as we pass. The air is pure and thin and cool. The altitude (11,000 feet) makes even engines puff. We glance about on mountain peaks by hundreds, wondering at snow- filled gulches that an August sun has not subdued. O, Rockies, wild and high and bare, who yet has guessed the treasures in your bosom stored ? And then descending the scarey track was a half day's pleasure among other delights, to see a trick- o f O v erlo ok 99 ling rill grow to be a clear mountain stream with numerous falls and rapid torrents, gradually blos- soming into a river of majestic proportions. As the mountains are higher than the plain, so are their ecstacy and charm high above and beyond the des- criptive powers of picture or pen. Salt Lake City, with its fresh, irrigated surround- ings, is as an oasis in the great, bleak, hot desert of Utah. The city, with its broad streets and rapid running water on either side, its large business blocks and grand hotels, is a fit resting-place for weary travelers who have spent one of the longest days of their lives in viewing sand-dunes and drift- ing sands over a treeless, grassless desert, whose most fitting description would be a blank page. The "Lake" itself was a great disappointment, though we took a special ride of fifteen miles over the flat, salty plains toward its center, and afterwards skirt- ing its great basin for nearly a hundred miles. Its waters have settled nearly ten feet in as many years, leaving a half-mile beach of salt sand not very agreeable to look upon. Scaling and descending the Sierra Nevada by curves and loops, 'mongst gorges deep and wild, or from their summit watching the peaks play "peek- a-boo," was a day of contrasts and surprises. The great pine forest around Lakes Donner and Webber were inspiring with freshness and beauty. Finally it was announced that we were in California — a state with a Golden Gate — and eagerly we scanned. We saw the gold hills, partly washed away by mountain torrents piped for that purpose, the gold being separated, the mud filling the rivers below to such an extent that the state had to interfere in their defence. The orchards and vineyards soon put in LOFCX ioo By Snook an appearance, to our delight; but too soon night's curtain settled down on the beautiful landscape and our belated train. San Francisco, or 'Frisco, with its steep habitated hills and business bustle, skirted with forests of masts and steam ocean crafts, and beautiful Oakland and Berkley, just across the bay, are as much one city in mutual interest as are New York and Brook- lyn. The flowery lawns of Oakland, decorated with tropical palms of great magnitude, some of whose trunks are at least three feet in diameter, with their great variegated, overhanging leaf stalks of 12 or 15 feet in length, are the admiration of those whose severer winters forbid such out-door treasures. But the green fields and hillsides of Michigan are missed here on account of a rainless summer. We are fortunate in being in 'Frisco at the same time as the national G. A. R. Encampment, and are thrilled by the great parade of justly proud and patriotic volunteers with their battle-stained banners and emblems carried by them in the dark days of long ago, when they heroically defended our coun- try's very life. We were delighted also with the right royal entertainment given the veterans, espe- cially of the magnificent arches in their honor, and the miles of electrical displays. One of the natural monuments, the pride, and justly so, of these cities, is Mt. Tamalpais, standing out more than 2,000 feet above the busy throngs and splashing tides. Its ascent was made easy by kind relatives and the steepest and crookedest rail- way we have yet seen. It seemed as if the road were all short turns on very many half-circle high bridges, looking down on gorges of alarming depth. We seriously doubted the "double-bow-knot" illus- o f Ov erlo ok 101 tration on the time card, but found it true while passing and repassing and saw it from the rocky peak as plainly as on the card. The engine that pushed the small train of open cars was something new to us, being on very small wheels propelled with long side-geared shafting by rapid-working arms from the sides of the engine, and its curious antics, together with its visible, roaring flames at every turn, often attracted attention from the dizzy heights. A lunch at the "tavern" and grand views from the summit, of cities, valleys, distant mountains and serf-lined ocean, with a descent at first almost dreaded but finally enjoyed, filled a great day. Our relatives made the "Golden Gate" seem still brighter by a trip thither including the immense glass ocean bath house, "Cliff House," and the great seal rocks where scores of wild seals have sported and dried themselves and where they have played in the wild, dashing sea for no one knows how long; and the great private garden near by filled with hundreds of all kinds of statuary, flowers, plants and tropical trees, was a wonder not only for its exquisite beauty but also for its free entrance. Golden Gate Park must not be missed, for it is justly 'Frisco's pride, having been transformed from a desert sand hill, and has not only been made to "blossom as the rose," but with a million roses and lovely flowers in great profusion. Sailing day for the young missionaries came all too soon, and their departure on the "Ameri- can Maru" via Honolulu, Japan and Hong Kong, for their far off field of labor near Manilla, P. I., was a scene and an occasion not to be forgotten by parents and friends, filled with a flood of a thousand thoughts and emotions. io2 By Snook A delightful ocean trip of 500 miles on the steamer "Santa Rosa" commenced by viewing the fortified hills on either side of the Golden Gate, a narrow passage only a mile wide and 400 feet deep. Then rounding the left gate post we were in good view of the seal rocks, where scores of these huge, sleek fish-animals have been sporting probably since the year one. A trip on the sea depends largely on conditions and weather. No fog, light clouds and a rolling, plunging sea were our good fortune for the first day. Soon to our delight spouting whales were seen, some quite near the ship, and one for our amusement tried to stand on his head, showing an immense tail above the rolling billows. We counted nine ocean splashers and were greedy enough to want to see more. Standing at the rear of the boat — perhaps this is not a sailor's phrase — and see- ing and feeling ourselves sink down, down till the breaking waves obstruct the distant white cap view, is to have a sensation like going down an elevator, and wonderirig if some time it might not forget to rise on the billows' crest. While viewing the ever- changing swells we often remarked to wife how could our ship have gotten over those great hills and valleys. We were sorry when darkness came and their splashings could only be heard and their jar against»the steamer felt. Daylight found us landing at Santa Barbara, in waters as quiet and glassy as Lake Orion ever knew. The next half-day was very calm and a large num- ber of passengers, among other diversions, enjoyed music and singing. Having completed our trip on the trackless sea we were ready to land at Santa Monica and take a 27-mile railroad ride to Los of Overlook 103 Angeles, the Queen of Southern California, a fure, beautiful, bustling city of 130,000 people. A ride of 150 miles on the kite-shaped track through the noted fruit fields of the San Gaberal Valley showed us orange, lemon, English walnut groves and other fruits by the million. That the goddesses Flora and Pomona dwell in Southern Cal- ifornia is not doubted by the inhabitants of that region, and that Pomona has her headquarters at orange castle on Smiley Heights near the city of Redlands, is a foregone conclusion. Ceres, the othet member of that trio, is more likely to be found in Iowa, Ohio or "Michigan, My Michigan." A day's outing at Long Beach, where the Califor- nia state veterans are camping for ten days, and where the rolling, dashing surf makes answer to their good times and cannonadings, was grand, while the hundreds of surf and sand swimmers with their extremities clad only in Nature's garb, reminded one of the South Sea Islanders at the World's Fair, Chicago. Now I am tempted to tell another "whale" story, though I know the fate of most fish stories — one better. In the public park at Long Beach is the per- fect skeleton of a whale that beached himself six years ago two miles below the village. He was alive when discovered, and his skeleton is now suspended in a long double shed enclosed on every side with heavy wire netting. They say it is 65 feet long— I made it 24 paces. Its mouth is 15 feet by 7 feet wide, ribs from 6 to 8 feet long, and its skeleton some 12 feet in widest place. It was indeed a great sight for us. Now, if you don't believe me go and see for yourself, as the fellow said. When the young lady friend who was escorting us through the park, 104 By Snook and who remembered its being found, remarked that the passengers from a shipwrecked vessel would just about make a meal for such a fish, we shud- dered and were almost glad that we were going back by rail. After passing for miles along and over dry sandy rivers so common and not very inspiring, during a rainless summer in Southern California, otherwise beautiful, we disappeared into what seemed to us the longest, smokiest tunnel of our experience. And how delightful the dawning of a deep, narrow, but ever-widening valley, seemed to us can be easil) imagined. The literary portion of our car were greatly en- thused by the statement that "Ramona's" old home and fenced grave would soon be visible from the car windows, all of which we found true, to our delight. Of course the romantic and dramatic story of those early pioneer times made the lovely scenery still more fascinating. But awakening from our fancy's dreaming, we saw miles of almost uninterrupted fields of beans covering the ranches, and then again sweet potatoes were crowding out nearly every crop, till the long, and now wide valley, terminated against the never-ceasing ocean waves, along whose winding, splashing beaches we found a hundred miles of crooked, rocky, refreshing ways. At one place oil derricks were numerous, many of which were standing on timber docks many hundred feet from shore, and naturally the question arose, in spite of fish-story doubters, was it whale oil they were taking from the bottom of the sea? Passing San Jose— pronounced San Hozay — and a hundred points of interest, we finally reached Palo Alto, the near-by station of the wide-renowned Le- of Overlook 105 land Stanford University, with its $25,000,000 en- dowment, its 8,000 feet of imposing stone corridors, around and among buildings as fine and grand as the old or new world could suggest. In the central court is the beautiful memorial church with its $16,000 organ, having 3015 pipes; marble statuary and mosaic pictures and windows of very fine mosaic unsurpassed. We were impressed and pleased with everything and with the inscription, ''Dedicated to the glory of God and the good of humanity." The great memorial archway is 100 feet high and nearly as wide, and all around it near the top are hundreds of figures in human form, 14 feet in height, repre- senting the march of the world's progress. Surely the rich widow, whose gift the university is, hath done what she could. Leaving 'Frisco and its dear friends for an 800- mile northern ride, we found 100 miles distant other homes and hearts at the state capital. We also attended the state fair at Sacramento, and must con- fess disappointment in its agricultural and mechani- cal departments. Then starting northward, great level wheat fields for scores of miles up the wide valley, where sixteen-foot-cut headers threshed and bagged the grain, leaving the straw behind, was for a while, at least, a change from mountains, fruits and rills. But reaching the hill country we stopped over night, as is our custom, so that a person with both eyes wide open might be able to see the more and better. In early morning we left Reading bent on the discovery of the great prize, the ever-snow- capped Mt. Shasta. And to it and kind friends remembered we dedicate the following lines com- posed while inspired by its presence : io6 By Snook From level wheat fields brown, On Sacramento's plain, One torrid summer day, We sped our way, On track of polished steel And whirling wheel, Escaping thus from sweltering farms To Shasta's cooling charms. The Giant Monarch grand, One of the white-crowned kings, Stood up with head so high Toward the sky, That hills around Seemed as the ground, And only dared to grow the pine Or bush and trailing vine. And then the inspiration Of its great presence near; Its friendship in our need A kindly deed, That gladdened us anew, As it would you, Were as the friends who day by day Refreshed us on our way. And from it as from them, We're loth to say adieu ; We send a backward glance, That if perchance, One recognition still Our hearts may thrill. How many times we cannot tell, We waved farewell, farewell. o f Ov erlo ok 107 Entering the Siskiyou mountain tunnel, at the pin- nacle of our day's whirl, we saw no more our white- domed friend, but viewed far below a most delight ful green valley of fields and homes, made still more beautiful by the contrast of rugged mountains on either side. Soon the state of Oregon was reached, with cli- mate and surroundings similar to the pioneer days of Michigan. Many hop fields were observed, and plum orchards that received our admiration and sympathy for the loads they bore and were unable to bear, many trees being broken and the ground underneath being blue, red or yellow, according to kind, where hogs helping to gather the fruit, seemed "plum full." Other good fruits with varying farm crops, rather late, and straight and tall timber made up the picture. Portland sheltered us during a rainy night, and our stay in Tacoma was only too short. To hear a pleasant sound is grand, to hear and see a beautiful sound is grander. To hear, see and ride upon a charming sound (Puget) with its never- unveiled, white-gowned sentinel, Mt. Raneir, in plain view for hours, is as a pleasant dream fully realized. The battleship "New York" was at the navy yard, and its seven stories, its 600 men and wonderful munitions of war, were fully inspected by our party, who pronounced the giant floating battery, great, great, very great. Seattle, like 'Frisco and Rome, is built on many hills, and is destined to be a great sea-port. The freshness and briskness of western Washington air and life is plainly felt, and its fir trees, as straight as arrows, many of which are 200 feet high, holding 108 By Snook their size wonderfully, beat any lumber forest we have yet seen. But eastern Washington with its arid plains, Indian reservations and sage brush along the Northern Pacific R. R., was not so charming till reaching Spokane, a beautiful city with waterfalls and cataracts of great grandeur, and numerous waterpowers of almost unlimited strength. But leaving it with hesitation as one would a new-made friend, we again boarded the cars and soon found ourselves among the northern mountains of Idaho, from which we caught glimpses of British Columbia hills, and were delighted in crossing and nearly en- circling by rail, for an hour or more, the beautiful upland body of water, Lake Ponderay. Then after ascending and descending clear, rapid, dashing, mountain-sided streams, we glided through valleys at times narrow, rugged and jagged, and then again widening to little irrigated plains of ver- nal beauty — one of which bears the expressive name of Paradise. Strange (to say our train seldom stopped at such places. So after nighting at Mis- soula, we soon found ourselves on Butte's smoky hillsides, the greatest copper mining camp in the world. A large city that claims to have more timber under than in the buildings above ground. The Columbia gardens, some two miles distant, Butte's only park, is a gem set in a glen. With mountains on three sides it looks out on the city who claim it as their joy and pride, although owned by a trolley company. Its extensive pansy beds and banks, of which we never saw larger or as beautiful, were doubly charming on account of barren surroundings. But friends must part, and only twelve miles of climbing brought us to the awfully rocky backbone of the Rockies where great stones by thousands are of Overlook 109 standing - on edge, supporting other huge balanced rocks, that in their turn hold others in almost un- believable poise. For miles these seemingly para- doxical mountains charm and awe the traveler, and why they do not come thundering down from their dizzy heights, is not for us to say. But passing through one of the great links of this huge chain of peaks, some of which God in nature has forged of gold, some of copper and others of iron and pre- cious stones, we wound our winding way around lofty hooks and scarey crooks, by pleasant, blushing nooks, to valleys green — refreshing. Why people should want to see the "Bad Lands" of eastern Montana and western North Dakota, in- stead of good lands, might at first be wondered at. Not so when one has seen the indescribable dif- ferent colored, jagged, streaked, stone-capped hill and dark, spooky gulches of a region of which some truthful (?) westerner has said "where you may see petrified birds sitting on petrified limbs of petrified trees singing petrified songs. " Crossing the Missouri River at Bismarck, a better agricultural country is entered, which increases from rolling prairie pasturage to more level tillable plains. At Sanborn, North Dakota, friends treated us to nearly a hundred miles of carriage drives over seem- ingly almost boundless, mostly cultivated, but tree- less and nearly fenceless prairies. The soil is a dark loam. Roads and "cut-across" trails good. About sixty miles one brisk clear day, with a fine double rig was a refreshing pleasure. Thousands of mea- dow larks flew up before us, and several coveys of prairie chicken, wild ducks, a ground owl near by guarding his cave, jack rabbits, a badger and numer- ous gophers were among the original inhabitants no By S no o k discovered. Many machines threshing wheat and flax were seen. We stopped to see a six-horse header cutting flax, the machine going ahead of horses. It appeared businesslike to see ten teams drawing shocks of wheat, two of which were always on either side of the threshing machine where bundles were constantly pitched on band cutting elevators, the grain running from an upper pipe into wagon boxes holding one hundred bushels or more. The scenery in North Dakota is certainly a contrast to that passed during the last seven weeks. Minnesota, with similar grain production in south and central sections, and lumber in northern portion, makes up a great state. Ada and Crookston, with their friends, and the most northern of the U. S. experimental stations, were well worth seeing, even in the rain. Taking a ten-mile trolley ride between the rival cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, under the guidance of an intelligent new-made friend, we were offended at Minneapolis for discharging a min- ister because he had taken his text from St. Paul. At first, Wisconsin by the Northwestern seemed beautiful, with fertile green hills and lovely frost- bedecked forest patches, but soon changed to a long stretch of low poor land, which some day must have been a lake bottom. Still farther we were surprised by scores of great high nature temples of picturesque rock, standing erect and alone on the plain. Reach- ing Madison, the capital, before dark, we were de- lighted with its surroundings and beautiful lakes. Illinois and Indiana, noted for grains, vegetables, grasses and stock, but small amounts of fruit, is passed ere Michigan is reached, a land of the great- est variety of mixed farming and mechanical indus- tries we have observed in seven thousand miles of of Overlook in sight-seeing. In her not over-rolling green tree- bedecked hills, and silvery lakes and fertile plains are found a joy and satisfaction. Hoping that my readers and friends have enjoyed these necessarily hurried, short jottings, I assure you, that although I have gleaned a little knowledge, and much of pleasure, yet I am more fully aware than ever that what I have not learned would reach higher than the Rocky Mountains and spread out broader than the Pacific Ocean. A MILLION SPARKLES. When from the darkest night The ice-bound twigs awakening, Behold the sun in glory rise, 'Twas beauty, no mistaking. In its first flashing glow All trees and shrubs adorning, A million sparkles seemed to say, Good morning, O! good morning. My heart responds with joy To such unusual greeting, And answers quick in speech unheard By an exultant beating. ii2 By Snook HOW THE MIND GROWS. We have all received a mind, Of a truly wondrous kind, That can choose the right to-day, Or keep the wrong. And as mind is made to grow, By the thoughts that come and go, We should choose the food by which It is made strong. Strong for good, or strong for ill, As the mind with thoughts we fill, For, u As he thinketh, so is he," The wise words say. Then let's fill the soul with good, And kind thoughts, as we should, So a harvest glad we'll reap, From day to day. Then in mind, as in the field, We expect to know the yield, By the kind of seed and Cultivation given. If we let the foul weeds grow They will choke the good, we know, And to own its sorry plight We will be driven. of Overloo k 113 If we cultivate a love, For the Father that's above, And "good will" to people all, Both high and low, Our garden will be bright, With blossoms of the right, And ourselves, and others, too, Will share its glow. MOUNTAINS. I love the mountains in their strength and grandeur, Unshaken by time's rude relentless hand, No vacillating or eccentric notions, The most substantial thing in all the land. Inviting us by good example ever, In higher, brighter, purer air to climb. Their rough exterior charms our admiration. There's inspiration in their lofty presence. They fill so full our minds with thoughts sublime, Bold, jagged overhanging crags appall, And then in contrast, finest tints are blending, With loveliest charm of beauty over all. My thoughts oft wander up thy rugged sides. But on thy pinnacle they reach their goal, With other precious treasures stowed away, I keep a place for mountains in my soul. ii4 By Snook A CAT-A-STORY. Of all things that the women prize And view in pride with loving eyes, No matter whether this or that, It is a new and stylish hat. It must be trimmed just thus and so, With here and there a sprig or bow; Flowers some choose, a feather, or wing, Arranged for winter, fall, or spring. Dainty and beautiful 'tmust seem As any peach or lovely dream, For in her heart this truth has dawned. Her hat and smile must correspond. I knew a lady — mostly glad — Who one time got a little mad, For after having long to wait She'd got a dandy, up to date. And put it in a band-box neat Where she could keep it fresh and sweet, But, horrors ! ! when she went for mittens, She found in hat a nest of kittens. And then — what followed, do you say? I do not know — I came away ; But later by her side I sat — Not so — the kittens and the cat. of Overlook 115 SNOW STORM. You cannot make poetry of snow, — ■ It lacks the warmth, it lacks the glow; The verses bank, the lines drift in, 'Twere better never to begin. And yet there's beauty in its whiteness And sparkle in its brightness; It helps somehow the sleigh bells jingle, And makes our nose and fingers tingle. It numbs our feet, flies in our face, Drifts in the road, and slows our pace. But after all 'twere dull to go, The whole year through, without some snow. What would children do without it? Ask the boys and girls about it ; How their faces will be glowing When you tell them it is snowing. Oh, where would they coast, or where slide ? Or jump on the bobs for a ride? There's fun for the children, that's so, When coasting or riding on snow. Or the jolly sleigh loads of young folks, So full of their antics and jokes, With happy songs, laughter and glee, Without snow, Oh, where would they be? Then hail to the snow as it falls Full of flakes and round little balls, 'Twould be tedious and dull as you know, To live in a land without snow. ii6 By Snook OUR LITTLE COLONEL. WRITTEN IN MEMORY OF COL. HEBER LE FAVOUR. He needs no word of praise from us! His actions in the past And deeds heroic Fresh in our memories last, And grow more vernal As we remember now alas, Our little Colonel. He needs no word of praise from us! In days most dark and drear He left his home, And, with a conscience clear And trust supernal, Went with us boys the land to save — Our little Colonel. He needs no word of praise from us! We've seen him in the camp And on the field, In weather dry and damp, And where our brave boys fell ; Ever the same both kind and true, Our little Colonel. He needs no word of praise from us! Le Favour is a name To us most dear; And written high in fame, No hand infernal Dare scratch a tarnish on this name, — Our little Colonel. of Overlook 117 He needs no word of praise from us! Yet we would give it now In this drear hour While sadly here we bow. This truth's eternal; We loved the brave and gallant man, — Our little Colonel. FLOWERS AND CHILDREN. Some people spend hours in caring for flowers, Which are good in their place, but alack and alas ! They have scarcely time for the training of children, And no time at all for a Sunday school class. A few flowers are good and we all love them dearly. But the fruits of good works are most beautiful, too. Have you thought how our influence might go on forever, If spent in the training of minds that are new. Think it over, kind friend, think it over once more, Which is best for ourselves, which'll give the most joy, Which will do the most good in the world we pass through, To Care for a flower, or care for a boy. Then divide up the time, give the children a share, Teach them kindness of heart, and courage that's true. Let them raise both the flowers of beauty and duty. 'Twill be better for them, and better for you. n8 By Snook THRIFTY HOMES. There are homes in the city And homes in the country, There are large homes and small homes, Homes modest and grand; But give me the kinds That are happy and thrifty, They're the ones that are needed To build up the land. I care not though humble Their feeble beginning, If for thrift and advancement They only aspire; They'll strengthen the moral While in knowledge progressing, And in finance they're sure To be climbing up higher. There'll be working together And planning in concert, Each one making dearer The home loving bands ; , Then hail to the noble, The good and the thrifty Who build the true mansions With hearts and with hands. Such homes are the outcome Of careful instruction, With its line upon line And good-will as the rod; of Overlook 119 For this greatest of gifts, With its happy relations, We here dedicate home To love, friendship and God. TWO LITTLE FRIENDS. Please is a wondrous word, Not just like any other, A loving child is she, And Thank You is her brother. Hand in hand they journeyed Or played along the way, And looked so sweet and happy I've asked them in to stay. Now since they live with me I'll send them out no more. For Thank You fills the wood box And Please, she shuts the door. And I am happier now With these little folks about; They are that kind and courteous I'll never turn them out. So while you work or play, As busy as the bees, Pray don't forget our Thank You And please remember Please. i2o B y S no ok HAND IN HAND. Hand in hand, my wife and I Roam the fields of Overlook, Walk its lanes and woodland roads Resting in poetic nook. Hand in hand from week to week, Watch the growing ripening grain, And from eating half-ripe fruit Hardly can ourselves restrain. Hand in hand from forest shades Dressed in emerald leafy goods, We from arching bowers fair Look through windows of the woods. To the hillside's changing charms, Where is cloudlet's shadowy flight, Chased by laughing sunbeams gay, Seen from out these windows bright. Hand in hand makes life a song Full of harmony, 'tis said, Causes sunshine everywhere, Earth beneath and sky o'er head. Hand in hand the flowers among, Charmed we are with fragrant beauty, How can we get back again To life's common work and duty ? > •• * 4n THE DRIVEWAY OVERLOOK of Overlook 121 MY GAY BABY DRESS. ON READING HER LETTER CONTAINING THESE FACTS. Some long years ago 'T might be many or less, A plump dimpled girl Made a gay colored dress. It was for her nephew Whose clothing seemed scanty, For the chub of a bub Who lived in a shanty. A fifty cent print Her mind seemed to fill, And it took a week's work To settle the bill. Then in her spare moments, To 'sprise my fond mother, She cut it and made it Not like any other. The girls then all kissed me — Not now — as is known, Perhaps 'cause I'm older And sweeter have grown. Take notice, my friends, This page is for auntie, Who made the gay dress For the babe in the shanty. 122 By Snook THE OLD VIOLIN. The old violin with its memories dear, We welcome it now as a friend tried and true, Its charmings and soothings are fresh in our mind, We know by experience what it can do. Chorus: We love it, we love it, the old violin, For what it is now and for what it has been. The old violin with strains tenderly fine How it mellows the soul and touches the heart; How it gracefully blends in harmony sweet With music and song, as it carries its part. Chorus: Or in striking the chords of a jubilant strain, How it quickens the pulse to livelier pace; How the arm, and the bow, and delicate strings With each other vie in a musical race. Chorus: But the nezv violin, a contrast indeed ; When the amateur draws the bow o'er the strings, Comparison only is fitly expressed By the noise that a cat fight usually brings. Chorus: of Overlook 123 The feline skulks off with a glare in her eye, The dog howls in pain at the terrible din, At the back-breaking, nerve-killing strains of the Torturesome boy and his new violin. Chorus: But the girls seem to like it for reasons I've guessed, For guessing will do when you really don't know, That when it sounds forth, with its worst or its best, Wherever it is, there is always a bow. Chorus: We love it, we love it, the old violin, For what it is now and for what it has been. BEAUTY AND UTILITY. In rambling through this world so fair Where do we pause best satisfied, But in the fields and nooks of fruitage Where joys in double richness hide? They charm both eye and taste combined, In every place are met with glee, And have their beauty and attraction In lustre and utility. Who does not love trees, plants and vines With all their leaflets, stalks, and roots? Then take them from our Father's hand, These luscious, lovely, fragrant fruits. i24 By Snook WOMEN AND WAR. LIKE a dream of the night, seems the memory of those dark days, when "Uncle Sam" found it necessary to call for all his loyal volun- teers. What they did, what they endured, and alas, how many of them came not back, is too well known. Indeed, the true stories told by survivors are too shocking and wonderful for continued rehearsal, to say nothing of another kind of stories which sometimes possibly grow, I am sorry to say, with repeating. Three or four years without home, without bed, without butter, without bread, without vegetables, or steak without eggs, without cake, mean some- thing to young men reared in a land of plenty — not even mentioning pie. No home restraint, no society, no Sunday, no piety, I was almost going to say, but will not, for there were men in the army, and many of them, as good and true in every way, as any I have known out of it, brave men, who were happy in their country's service, and daring to do right under trying and adverse circumstances. But while thousands of brave men at the front suffered fought, and died, defending their country and its very life ; thousands of women in sad anxious homes labored, waited, sighed, and wept. O the tears of a nation ! Years of tears! Had you thought of the dreadful anxiety and suspense of mothers, sisters, sweethearts, wives and widows, brave, tender hearts, many of whom have sustained, even while dispens- ing hope and joy, a lifelong conflict with grief and sorrow. of Overlook 125 Few women could, or did, visit their dear ones, where any day or hour the march, or the battle's confusion might be their portion. My mother, however, was one who did. Hearing that I was very sick in hospital and not expected to survive, she left home and her year-old child, and after long journeying crossed from Cincinnati to Covington, where she found, what she had known before start- ing, Kentucky in a desperate condition of alarm and war, with half their sons in either army. Cars were unable to move, the country travel endangered every- where by raiders and horse-thieves. Knowing that the 22nd Michigan V. I. had moved in the direction of Lexington with its munitions, hospital, and am- bulances, she tried in vain for some time to hire a rig for pursuing, none daring to trust their teams, or themselves to the wild uncertain conditions. "No, not they, a hundred armed soldiers would not be safe." Finally, however, a man was found who> for a big price would undertake the journey. She stopped at Snow's Pond where the regiment had camped a couple of weeks, and where, on boiling the water in their camp kettles, the soldiers had each time to take off a green scum half an inch thick. She knew that I had marched from that camp and at night had sunk down with a raging fever. She inquired dili- gently along the way and stopped where the soldiers or their sick had camped. The old colored women were the most attentive and sympathetic generally. They had seen the sick carried from the ambulances to the large white tents or vacant houses or de- serted hotels — had seen them again carried out, and feet first, gently pushed into those double-decked wagons, containing four soldiers each, — two above and two below. Had seen some carried out and 126 By Snook buried in their soldier clothes, "under dem trees yonder." But who they were or what regiment, none knew. "Was it my boy? Is he under that mound of earth? or is he yet in the hospital where I may reach him and nurse him back to life and health?" Tell me not that only in the breast of man, dwells courage undaunted, bravery that knows not fear, and patriotism as yet unquenched. O women of our land, brave, gentle, noble, patriotic women — to for- get thee, and thy works of love and devotion, were a sin too great for man. For several days they followed our camping and marching trail, with the same awful uncertainty, where I had rode for sixty slow, long, weary miles ; being daily carried in at night and out in the morn- ing. After more than a hundred miles driving and stopping, mother found the regiment at Lexington and her boy able to sit up a little. Her joy was too deep for words. After a week's sojourn dispensing home influences, comfort, and cheer, and visiting with friends in the regiment, she started for anxious husband, family, and friends, and at parting gave me a silver quarter from home, as a keepsake (coin being then almost entirely unseen). Afterwards a silver smith among our boys, made me a combined brigade, division and corps badge of it, being an acorn inclosed in a triangle and star. I have kept, worn, and have it yet. To me it will ever be a vivid reminder of woman's heroic patriotism, undaunted courage, and self sac- rifice in the great struggle for national existence. of Overlook 127 GOOD OLD-FASHIONED WINTERS. Some people have a curious way Of telling what they have to say About some winters they have known, Way back to where their thoughts have flown, To "Good old-fashioned winters." Of snow from early fall till May With feed all gone, and no more hay, And stock so thin that e'en a breeze Would blow them in the tops of trees, In "Good old-fashioned winters." Of how they then on twigs did thrive, Thus keeping there themselves alive, And how in spring men came from town Chopping the trees to get them down, After "those good old winters." Of how the ice in solid cakes Froze fast to bottoms of the lakes; And when spring rains began to fall It lifted bottoms, sides and all, — Those "Good old-fashioned winters." And how it seemed, in cow-hide boots Standing on snow banks picking fruits ; No more such times we see as then I wish they would come back again — Those "Good old-fashioned winters." 128 By Snook But here it is, now come at last With colder cold, than in the past, Blizzards with fiercer tempest tost And snow drifts filled with keener frost, This "bad old-fashioned winter." We sigh no more for rigorous cold With snow piled high, and tempest bold, If this is it, give us no more The likes of Ninteen-three and four — This "horrid, bad old winter." THE LITTLE WORD WE SAY. Happiness is not far coming And the home is bright and gay, When its members all are careful Of the little words they say. Fill the mind with gentle thinking, For that kind is surely best, Then expression will be natural, Words are only thoughts expressed. Home should be a sacred haven, Spare no pains or thought, or care, Make it beautiful with kindness And 'twill bless us everywhere. Home is worth our best endeavor, Home should be the dearest place, Guarded, loved, and cherished ever, Greeted with a smiling face. of O v erlo o k 129 MICHIGAN AGRICULTURAL COLLEGE. SEMI-CENTENNIAL. The first pursuit of man was agricultural ; And from that day to this, that art Has furnished growing minds, of breadth and depth. Who sway the nation's very heart. But rural education sighed for loftier heights, With all the "whys and wherefores" taught ; Brave, noble legislators lent a helping hand, And order was from chaos brought. Thus, fifty years the product of their work has grown, With added thought and influence great; And proudly on this half-centennial We gather here to celebrate. And placed on first of institutions of it's kind, In memory of our good and learned, Who've scattered blessings o'er the land, A wreath — triumphant and well earned. A tribute, loyal, glad, by friends and patrons given, Who've shared the scientific knowledge, From a thousand doors that open wide In Michigan's Agricultural College. 130 By Snook OVERLOOK. We cannot tell you half our glad emotions, As from the ''Overlook" we gaze enwrapped, Where up and down the valley wide extending We see a hundred fields and forests mapped. 'Tis changing ever, from the spring tilL fall : At first with furrows straight and meadows green, Then waving, ripening grains of different kinds, With vines and orchards fruiting in the scene. See the fine buildings, and the happy homes Scattered o'er landscape of extended size ; Or watch the rapid trolleys as they glide, Sinking in vales or on the hill-tops rise. Or, view the mighty engines with their trains, Trembling the earth and air with rumbling sound ; How quick they come, how rapidly depart, Giving variety the whole year round. And later on behold the golden shocks, While distant stacks of grain like dots appear; See forest patches tinted by the frost, And wish their gorgeous beauty colors near. While closer by the cattle may be seen, With flocks of sheep, with frisky lambs at play; We sometimes wonder at their antics queer And why the cattle graze with heads one way. ft Xfl p O w o O M Oh of Overlook 13 1 The valley village nestles close at hand, Its varying whistles rend the air betimes ; While music from its charming bells sounds forth, Filling the living picture with their chimes. Blest Rochester! 'mong charms sublime you stand, The emerald hills and sparkling streams compete With nature, in her happiest, brightest moods, To make your glad surroundings most complete. Lights of the night gleam from Detroit forth, Like diamonds bright they twinkle in their glow ; From "Overlook" you see their dancing sparkle, Their distance, guessing you could never know. The sunrise, and the sunsets, O, how grand, With floating cloudlets and their glittering frills; Or at high noon watch sunshine bright and shade Chasing each other o'er the sloping hills. If satisfied with only rock and seas, Then at this picture fair you need not look ; But if for fertile vale and verdant hills you sigh, Then view the scene from lovely "Overlook." KISS OR CAR. Don't stop for a kiss When the trolley is coming; Rush out of the door And signal the car. A kiss is a good thing A sweet thing it may be, But not to be left ■ Is better by far. i3 2 By Snook THE FARMERS' CLUB. Oh think of the Club And its hub-bub-bub, From near and from far they are here ; Some young and some old, Some jolly, some bold, All happy, and isn't it queer! Help the ladies alight, And hold horses tight, Here is something, now don't forget these, Take them into the house As still as a mouse, Or we shall be left in the breeze. And how do you do, I'm glad to see you, And how have you been all the while? Hello, Uncle Jess, And Mary and Bess ! Being here we are just in the style. How nice now to meet, And old friends to greet, Why didn't you come the last time? I told Frank you would If only you could, He said, you were saving your dime ! Well, how 'bout the sleigh ? I heard you and May Were riding where soft moonbeams creep ! How happened it, Bill, That Ned broke the thill? It must be the horse was asleep ! of Overlook 133 Oh, Susie, my dear! I knew you'd be here, To meet your old auntie so true; How's Grandma today, And Carrie and May? I wish they were here, yes I do. What, dinner time now! I was wondering how Ell and I could get a good place; Now right here it is, Say, isn't this biz, Guess we're not so slow in a race ! Here's a chicken and ham With blackberry jam, And jellies and cranberries too, Homemade bread, if you please, With fried cakes and cheese, With such things Oh ! what would you do? The table looks pretty, It seems such a pity To stow away things out of sight, But say, don't you tell, They'd think it a sell, I've not had a meal since last night! See now who is able To get to the table? How strange they are eating so long, When we're all in a hurry And worry and flurry, For a chance in the opening song! 134 By Snook Hear the president's call With his cute little maul, Thinks pounding will keep it more still, Come, boys, don't you hear? Too much racket, I fear; Now's the time to settle your bill. The question today Is, how would it pay To do without clubs any more? Those in favor will say A loud no, or nay, And the rest will be put out of door. 'Twas unanimous, Without any fuss, And singing then followed so sweet. Recitations were heard That all our hearts stirred, And we voted just where to meet. Then come the good-byes, And the whens and the whys, And what will you plant to make money? Who's got good seed oats ? Or best kind of shoats ? So we all went home, sweet as honey. The club has its pleasure, Has also its leisure : It fosters good will among neighbors, It educates rightly, It makes us more sprightly, Shows how to succeed with our labors. of Overlook 135 THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. Are there places on earth that are better or brighter Where coldness and dullness are less of the rule Where bright eyes are brighter, or light hearts are lighter Than is found in the home of our dear Sunday school ? They are learning the songs they may carry forever And texts that are Golden they store in their minds, Of duty to parents, to friends and companions, Of glory to God and good-will to mankind. Why not gladden their hearts with our presence and pennies ? It may lighten our burdens, to join in their song, We'd be welcome we know in this garden of flowers, Why should we be excused from the bright happy throng ? There are times in our lives, in this world with its sorrow, When midst tempests and storms we are hurriedly driven, That with joy we remember the Sunday school hour As the one place on earth that is nearest to Heaven. 13 6 B y Sno ok THE JOLLY PIONEER. The following verses were read at the Pioneer banquet held in Pontiac, March 22, 1907. Oh ! the jolly pioneers With their friendship and their fun How they felled the woods in swaths like driven snow; Don't you wish that you'd been there Just to help them catch the bear Or to drive the ox That sometimes wouldn't go? And their curious logging bees When they piled up logs so high That not a man would dare to roll them higher; Then when drouthy times appear In the autumn of the year You'd think it fun To set the heaps a-fire How they tilled the fertile soil 'Mongst a thousand stumps or more, Breaking plow points oft, and chains of every kind; And you'd hardly ever know If you're in or out the row With your horse or ox Which might as well be blind. Oh! the sturdy pioneers In their home-spun, gray or brown, How they built our roads through forests glen and glade ; of Overlook 137 And by streamlets built the mills Close beside the rustic hills, Though in many things They volunteered their aid. How they built a house of logs For the little girls and boys, And for older ones, I'm surely glad to say; Then with benches very strong And desks so very long They with wooden pins Would fasten them to stay. We are glad of churches built Though of modest size and form, For their active work has yielded good untold; And may blessings ever rest On the ones who did their best, Hoping ever thus That people's heart to mold. Oh ! the good old pioneers, Just a few are with us still. And we love them for their honesty and worth ; For the hardships they went through While they toiled for me and you, As with energy They helped subdue the earth. i3*> By Snook TWENTIETH CENTURY WOMAN. WRITTEN BY REQUEST FOR THE "MID WINTER SPECIAL^ OF THE ROCHESTER WOMAN'S CLUB, MARCH 6TH, 1900. The Twentieth Century Woman should be, and will be, the sunshine and guide of childhood and youth, the companion and comfort of noon-day life, the solace and cheer of old age. It almost seems as if we could now hear her advancing footsteps. Hark!— The Twentieth Century Woman comes, The world in education waits, Awe-struck with wonder we become, The angels listen at the gates. What will man's better half then do, With added privilege and power, Use it for good, for false, or true? With trusting hope we wait the hour. Shall home, sweet home, be set aside, Or in the background stand apace, While business squabbles o'er it ride, Or office tries to take its place ? Shall the professions crowd out home, The dearest spot on earth to all? Shall ease or fashion ever dare To try to drive it to the wall ? It must not be, it cannot be, No backward step is ever good; The Twentieth Century must not see A mercenary womanhood. o f Over look 139 Then hail! ye women of the coming years! Think not in business haunts to roam, The sweetest, happiest place on earth, The highest place, is — Queen of Home. POLITENESS. If "Politeness is to do and say The kindest thing in the kindest way," Why don't we in its practice grow, That by our actions all may know What is Politeness. The kindest thing in the kindest way, Whether at work, in school or play, 'Twould take, let's see, some care and thought To learn the lessons that we ought In true politeness. I'm 'fraid 'twould cramp our selfishness, Impair or stunt our laziness, And, keeping these, how can we grow, How can we ever hope to know What is politeness? Nothing, they say, will pay so great With interest at so large a rate, As this choice plant with fruitage crowned And fragrant bloom the whole year round, — As true politeness. 14° By Snook BIRTHDAY SURPRISE. One sunny day some years ago, My family kind (I call them so) Planned how to make a birthday time As happy as a running rhyme. They formed a plot, and laid it thus In secret, not consulting us, To have me on my birthday go And dig some parsnips from the row. And, as the day was fine and warm, They'd go along, 'twould do no harm ; So Mother and the children four Came gaily from the kitchen door. With spade in hand I led the way To where great parsnips grew to stay, And as the day was desperate hot I shed my coat upon the spot. I dug and dug, they seemed so strong, And wondered why they grew so long; I stooped and pulled with all my might, My working pants were stretched and tight. When suddenly as lightning glare Came stroke on stroke, you may guess where, From gad in hands of nimble kid Doing with zest what he was bid. of Overlo o k 14 1 With frightened start and sudden bound I jumped in air from off the ground; With words I care not to repeat, I saw and felt that I was beat. And midst the shout and laugh that rose One guessed if they were friends or foes, For good or ill, there's nought — by half — That's equal to a woman's laugh. The boy that acted well his part May take this lesson to his heart, T'was active work and lively play That gained success on my birthday. GOOD WILL. Who most fills earth with joy, Setting the heart bells ringing, But doers of kind deeds, Causing the soul's glad singing? All nature gladdens when Our hearts exulting thrill. As from true friends there come Kind tokens of good will. Whence comes this gladsome gift, Where was its place of birth But from the angels' song "Good-will o'er all the earth?" H 2 B v Snook MY GRANDFATHER'S PIONEER CHAIN. I love it, I love it, that pioneer chain, For the charm that it wakes in my heart oft again ; For the clink of its links in my memory brings A music not found in the chime of new things. How it hung from the ring of the crooked ox yoke, And to fasten it there wasn't always a joke; For old Buck and Bright, with their energy quick, Sometimes were inspired to give me a kick. But the whoa, haw and gee, and the whip's startling crack Were pursuasive enough so they took it all back; And when we were ready, they waddled along Dragging chain as it purred in its own rustic song. Over logs and o'er roots with a jingle and j&ng, Over stones, and on ice, how merry it sang; But sometimes, when hooked round a log on a stump, Its links went in two, like a thud on the jump. Then to hew out a toggle was the next kind of fun, For blacksmiths near by there surely were none; But the good people now, with their surplus of brain Would scarcely know how to toggle a chain. of Overlook 143 Oh ! that chain, that old chain, that pioneer chain, I have handled it often in mud and in rain, And thought to myself, "well, my boy, you're a hero," As it stuck to my hands when the weather was zero. Unlike some great stories of the long, long ago, That grow to be larger the farther they go, This wonderful chain as a gem of the past Has condensed to a size that forever will last. It shall hang right on here as a memory test For I've fastened one hook in a hole of my vest, And the other to time-piece modern and true, So its links, link together the old and the new. I'll wear it, I'll wear it, for the good it has done And perhaps you may wear it, like others, for fun; 'Twas the charm of the past, 'tis the charm of today, My grandfather's ox-chain is with us to stay. HEART SUNSHINE. If sunshine on the hills Sends gladness to the rills And all creation joins In its glory, Then sunshine in the heart Should gladdest joys impart And a glowing, smiling face Would tell the story. 144- By Snook QUEEN AND CRESCENT. NO doubt a short description of this road, from Cincinnati to Chattanooga, remarkable in many respects, will be interesting to my readers. About eight A. M. our party stepped aboard the trairf known as the "Cannon Ball," probably so called because it crosses its own track in the first mile, or that may be the Crescent part of it; at all events it makes quite an ascent in so doing, and is thus prepared to cross the high bridge over the Ohio River. The first fifty miles or so, are over rolling country of hill and dale, the soil being a gray clay, the road crossing and recrossing many times the old Covington and Lexington Pike, a route familiar to many of the Boys in Blue, long years ago. Now the hills gradually diminish, and the gullies dis- appear. Hemp is grown in great abundance. And we find in Central Kentucky the towns of Lexing- ton, Nicholasville, and Dansville, situated in a rich beautiful country. Are these really the same places through which we marched and countermarched? And how different this cannon ball in which we ride, and how much better than the cannon balls with which we were then familiar! Well, the road — what about the road? — yes, yes. But thought will wander back along the track of other years, and comparisons come unsought and unasked, and isn't it pleasant to find here a better, a happier, and a more prosperous country than of yore? Variety they say is the spice of life, and if that be so, then of Overlook 145 the time you spend on the Q. & C. will be highly seasoned. The bridge over the Kentucky River is 285 feet above the water, and the banks are perpen- dicular rocks. There at the bend comes in another stream. Isn't it grand? But what is the matter? The trainmen come through soon after noon, light- ing lamps. You soon find out, however, and begin to wonder how long a mile is under a mountain. Now what a high trestle this is, and while looking we plunge into another gigantic darkness. The wooded hills grow higher, the cuts are through solid stone, the tunnels and trestles more frequent. The\ say we are in Tennessee; the scenery grows bolder and grander. We begin to descend the slopes of a ravine, we follow the banks of a rushing mountain rivulet, till we view for miles the beauties of a clear rapid creek, whose bottom and sides are rock, and rock only. We see them running cool way up the hillsides. What do these hills, these mountains high, contain? Who can guess? But all at once the stream has turned into a river, with no banks, and with perpendicular sides of great huge stone, rock upon rock, as if laid by the Mas- ter's hand at creation. The dashing waters are beneath on the right, the towering mountains above on the left. Our eyes must have a rest, and so we meditate. Some say this is the twentieth tunnel, others say more; we've lost our count, there is no time for counting. Then the train bursts forth again into the beautiful sunshine and mountain-river grandeur. We said to our companion, this almost beats the Lehigh. We make a halt. Some one enquires, "Why this stop?" The brakeman answered, "Because this is 146 By Snook the first level ground for the last eighty miles that the train could find to stand on." We considered it a joke, but thought he was more than half right. On we rushed, the train passing through enough more mountains to make twenty-seven tunnels, and we are glad to glide out into the narrow Wanhat- chie Valley, and for seventy miles contrast its beau- ties with the rugged grandeur of the rocky-faced mountain range, one thousand feet high, just at our right. Here we saw some live stock, but the absence of sheep in the landscape pictures was very noticeable. The Tennessee river is crossed at the foot of Mission Ridge, and behold we are at the journey's end, and our party of six snugly housed at the corner of Ninth and Market. We are full of Chattanooga, Lookout Mountain, Mission Ridge, and Chickamauga, of their historic past and their present grandeur. TRUTH. Truth is a sparkling gem, All added glitter mars; Serene it shines complete and pure As one of the fixed stars. Truth is of heavenly birth And rise again it must; No demon's power can keep it down, T'will spring e'en out the dust. of Overlook 147 HELPFUL DAYS. What days have helped the most? In the battle of life With its cares and strife Its passing tomorrows And trials and sorrows, Are not those the best With a Sunday's rest? What days have helped us more, To educate the heart For helpful, truer part, Stirring the soul anew The better things to do, Than those glad days of rest By Sabbath title blessed? What days have helped the most To drive out selfishness Allowing blessedness The hungry mind to fill With tokens of good will, — Are they not days sublime Called sacred holy time? AVhat days have helped the most A citizenship to raise To truer purer ways, Made home more dear With brighter cheer? Shall we not sing their praise These helpful hallowed days? 148 By Snook MACKINAC ISLAND. If in your soul there's room for beauty's charm, Or from it greatest grandeur echoes back, Hush not its longings or its lofty flights, Till you have seen and known old Mackinac. Grand Mackinac. Isle of the Strait, some miles from any shore, Standing erect, with jagged, lofty sides, Smiling in Nature's freshest, gladdest glow, Two hundred feet above the splashing tides. Bright Mackinac. See pebbly beach, its graceful form encircling, Without a rush or reed to mar its charm. Through waters clear as glass we see the bottom, Not rough, or wild enough to cause alarm. 'Round Mackinac. Shall we together climb the zigzag hill, And ride on winding woodland roads awhile, Surprised at every turn, and glimpses catching, Of grandest scenery, which our souls beguile On Mackinac? See steamer palace floating o'er the lake ; Look, way down there is Sugar Loaf's retreat. They say that those who in its shadows rest, Will soon be truest friends or lovers sweet. At Mackinac, n s 5 > n in r- !> of Overlook 149 Why ! here we're coming to the lake again, And through Arch Rock, so high, behold its glitter. For words of wonder or for feelings grand, Is there in all the world a place that's fitter Than Mackinac? i Here stands the old French fort, two centuries old, And there Fort "Holmes," with only now a name ; Old Mission Church, and the work of Marquette, And fur-trading station of Astor fame. Historic Mackinac. Behold ! This island's strange bewitchings, With bluffs of quaintest naming on its hem, You cannot grasp its charm by wordings, This Isle of all the lakes the loveliest gem. Queen Mackinac. 150 B y S n o o k THE OLD WATER MILL. The old, old mill, For seventy years and more Its rumbling sounds Have trembled all its frame. Its ponderous wheels, Of granite hard and strong, Have ground the grain That to its doorways came. The quiet waters In the sturdy, timbered race Move slowly on Until, with sudden thrill, They strike the wheel And, with heroic gush And giant power, Move all within the mill. And at the flume The tumbling waters fall As clear as glass, Then rush the creek along ; Striking huge rocks With dashing fury bold, Or, spreading out, They sing a milder song. We pause and look, With admiration mute, On all thy quaint Surroundings, old and queer; of Overlook 151 On shining pond With grass-grown dam, Bordered so long With willows year by year. It sooths, it charms, To see how nature works Her quiet ways In beautifying art ; And to this mill And all that here is strange, I offer now The thoughts that thrill my heart. GOLD-FISH. For restful, quiet motion Outside, or in the ocean; There's nothing near or far Like gold-fish in a jar. In all their occupation They have no conversation That can by us be heard, — Not e'en a tiny word. When rest is necessary To keep me from a worry, And I for quiet wish, I glance at our gold-fish. 1 5 2 By Snook THE AUT(NOT)TOMOBILE. There's a serious thing in our country today That's a libel on justice and worth, For in the highways where we all have some rights. You would think that it owned all the earth. As soon as it's out of the city's control It is recklessly whizzing through space, Caring not for the safety of woman or child, Throwing dirt on your clothes and your face ; Caring not for the beauty of landscape or glen Or of sociable comment thereon, But only to make of the zephyr a storm In its mad rush to get there and gone. Like a demon let loose from the regions below You can dodge it perhaps if you may, But if you're upset and your heads taken off They are gone and there's nothing to pay. Some think it fine sport while thus tearing along To shoot at the dog or the chickens, With their number concealed by a big cloud of dust, They think they can act like the dickens. A civilian once said that a few good buck-shot Through the bottom of one whirling wheel, Might make a hog stop in his frantic career And lower his bristles and squeal. of Overlook 153 But that is not all, now they want you to build An expensive macadamized track, So's to push you so far with your horse and your debt That you never will live to get back. How gladly I'd find some good points to inspire But my thoughts on such drivings congeal ; No one with an impulse of beauty or right Could endure the aut(not)tomobile. VARIETY. If all were sunshine, There would be no clouds to roll away; If all were brightness, Where, then, the dawning of a happy day? If clouds came not with tears To soften up the sterile soil, No harvest time would come As gladsome recompense for care and toil. If all were glittering light, Where then would be the softer-tinted ray? Or rest for weary eyes, Or stopping time, or sweet good-night to say? Dull sameness lacks in spice; From good to better is propriety, The plan is beautiful — For days and thoughts to have variety. 154 By Snook THREE COMPANIONS. If something new you'd like to hear, A story true and strange I'll tell Of curious old time friends of mine Who somehow in my pathway fell. As on my way alone I went From social of peculiar make, Where maidens fair and matrons gay Sold boxes filled with pie and cake, When auctioneer in happy mood Told that a lady's name was there And, if you'd pay the highest price, You might with her the goodies share. Excitement reigned, the bids went up, They squabbled in financial strife; And one more lucky than the rest Soon found that he had drawn his wife. The merry laugh rang through the hall, The danties vanished out of sight, Till all were filled with cake and fun And lingered long to say good night. Homeward at last alone *I strode, I'd passed the mill and climbed the hill, The evening stars shone clear and bright, The air was crispy, cold and still. of Overlook 155 My livelier step and happy thoughts Seemed buoyant in the frosty air; Then suddenly these friends appeared, I cannot tell just how or where. On either side so close they came, Not even asking if they might; One on my left cheek placed a kiss The other shyly touched my right. We journeyed on both glad and gay, Talked of the evening landscape's glow, Of former conversations had, Of things we'd seen and done, you know. They are indeed a paradox, I hardly know what they can mean; For though we have so often met They never have each other seen. When one is here, the other's there, They're never the same side of me; They are my friends for all of that, Though different colored they may be. So now I'll give you here their names, — Or have you guessed it all too soon About these curious, comic friends — Myself, my shadow, and the moon. 156 By Snook THE SWORD AND PEN. No greater powers for good or ill Have risen yet to govern men Than these two representatives, The sharpened sword and pointed pen. At first the sword was paramount, Hastening to direst deeds commence, Or, rose as only then it could, Heroically in self-defense. Thus ages, for the right or wrong, It's glittering blade — I hate to say — O'er rolling seas, or fertile plain Has slaughtered millions by the way. But now the pen with power untold, With promptings of a better kind, While sharper than a two-edged sword Is ruling men by ruling mind ; Not driving them as brutes are driven, But thrilling soul with impulse great, Thus leading with a gentle sway All to a high or low estate. Their power is great, results are large ; I've used them both to influence men, And now in thinking it all over, I give my verdict to the pen. of Overlook 157 Brothers ! with destinies to make, Who must take part in life's great fight, Lay down the tarnished sword of wrong, Take up a mighty pen for right. CHERRY TREE AND HATCHET. By some George was condemned For cutting down a fine young cherry tree And, though most manfully he owned it up, No virtue do they see. Who said the tree was young And fair with natural growth and beauty true? This hasty, random guessing on our part Is not the thing to do. More likely it was old, Loaded perhaps with its last fruitage crop, So, wise and business-like, he cut it down With hatchet, chop by chop. The handy fruit then picked, Some rounded bushels more or less, I ween, Then from its trunk, we know, made hatchets good. For many we have seen. This energy, prophetic, And statesmanship, with honest purpose meant, Made George, who cut his father's cherry tree, Our first great president. i5 8 By Snook THE RURAL TROLLEY. How jolly the trolley, as it comes through the coun- try, Or as viewed in the village or seen in the town. As it runs by the rills or skips over the hills, And scans pretty pictures in green and in brown. How it flies o'er the trestle or slips through the glen, And laughs at the landscape from hills that are higher ; How glibly it glides and how smoothly it slides, On a track staunch and strong, in a way we admire. The sights that we see, — -oh, the homes in the coun- try, The large fields of fruitage and crops that are clean, And forests of foliage, in loveliest colors, Made fair by the frost and the sun's golden sheen ! Industrious farmers are tilling the fields, Large horses in harness, sleek sheep in the clover, Small pigs and large porkers, fine cows in the pas- ture, And many things more as we glance the way over. of Overlook 159 Or to look at the lake with its boats and its boatlets, With its sails and its skiffs among islands of green ; With banks of rare beanty for many miles 'round it ; Is there picture more lovely that your eyes have seen? And the "tin" and the time, not much of it spent ; Start and stop when you like, in darkness and light. Or if left in the lurch, you can try it again, Or if freighting you want, it is rapid and "right." Then the rapture of riding, and pleasure of leisure, And the lights in the night, how they glitter and glow ! You are warm in the winter, not smothered in summer, Nor wet with the dampness of rain or of snow. To ride on this route, in a palace that's pleasing, With Nellie and Burton, or Clarence and Mollie. 'Mid grandeur that's grand, and scenes that are scenic, Oh, isn't it jolly, a trip on the trolley? i6o By Snook THE HUDSON. 'Twas in loveliest May that we left the great city, To sail on the Hudson at dawn of the day. We'd started for home and the scenes of our child- hood ; The city's new charms were fast fading away. We rode by the side of this river in autumn, When its banks were more sombre, its visage less »» fair ; But now it threw o'er me a rapture so charming, I thought from the boat to alight in the air. So glad was my heart, as it kept rising higher, That its joy, as compared with its average pitch, Was as this great river compared to a streamlet, And its beauties compared to the banks of a ditch. Such beauty of landscape, great hills of bold grandeur, Such orchards of blossoms, 'mongst carpets of green ; Fine palaces grand, with the tall trees around them. And verdure resplendent my eyes had ne'er seen. The sky overhead, with its blue dome of azure, The water beneath, with its glittering sheen, My soul broke its cage, flew away in its lightness, To the grandeur of beauty its glad eye had seen. of Overlook 161 It kissed the sweet blossoms, it smelled of the flow- ers ; Rolled and skipped on the lawns, and could scarce say adieu, , Soared aloft in the soft breeze, came down on the roses, Laughed out from the branches a glad peek-a-boo. Come back, did you say, to its home in my bosom? Yes, yes, it came back, but I caged it no more. It has always returned to its perch in the evening, But never again did I fasten the door. Years have come and have gone, yet we journey together. No friends ever truer than my soul and I. The heights of his flights almost startles my senses : But seldom I ask him for a reason why. Sometimes when I lovingly pet his soft plumage, And speak of his flights, of his pranks, and his play, He will twinkle his eye, and coyly make answer, "Not so grand as we had on the Hudson that day." 162 By Snook FARM HOME. On the farm is a good place to live, And farming will pay, if well done; Has profits, true pleasure, and leisure, Hard work, much care, and some fun. There's continual changing of business, That causes the young folks to think, And freshens the minds that are older Like the pure, sparkling water we drink. The air is so pure and inspiring — Not filled with smoke, cursing and noise — A place for broad thought and reflection, The best place to bring up the boys. What pleasure to see the crops growing, The trees with their blossoms and fruit; To taste peaches and cherries and apples And find which our palate will suit. To smell the sweet bloom of the clover, See grain fields that wave in the breeze, And go for the cow towards evening, Through woods with its sheltering leaves. And a table supplied with fresh eggs, With good butter, pure milk and sweet cream. With vegetables new from the garden And berries that make your eyes beam. ISA: ***'■> . W$$^^& ;1 $"Jlvw PTTjrflBBfiffi* l^&^I* "■**? r •... t/* * • • • **" '" r^^BIl itt\ y^t* V 1 \>%S** $VV/ J •-, w ?i^?r £i ■'i'ft' «w''f v - '• V ^''1 wJt'M$*& ^#\ ■ • ' #if:i ffim^l <1% •i mmk W * #% .. ' THE PROSPECTIVE PIE of Overlook 163 You can stand like a man among men — Do not need to crouch, quibble or fawn — If they don't like your style let them go, They don't have to remain on your lawn. There's a chance to have friends and be friendly, To the grange or the club you may go, Or if lazy a few days in August Your crops will continue to grow. O the country with all its attractions, What business can more freedom give ? 'Twould seem it were easy decided : On the farm is the best place to live. MAKE A CONTRAST. Dreary, dreary, dreary Seems the barren landscape now, With fields of winter gray And trees with leafless bough. I will not longer gaze Through the gloomy window pane, But turn myself about From wind, and mud, and rain, And see a contrast glad From somber scenes that weary. By making self and home More cheery, cheery, cheery. 164 By Snook THE DEAR OLD FOLKS. The dear old folks of our early home How often they visit the heart; In our thoughts they come and almost speak And seem of our lives a part. How vividly fresh is their coming Mongst pleasures and cares as we roam, Till we sigh for the councils and smiles Of the dear old folks of our home. ' They trained to walk our chubby little feet, Our lisping tongue to speak the thought, And their tired patience was sublime Before we learned the lessons taught. We little knew of father's toiling Or Mother's watchful tender care ; In keeping restless home-ones safely Our parents dear, then had their share. The dear old folks of the long ago It seems quite long as we glance back, And happiness now is not complete, Their friendship true is what we lack. Why didn't we better improve their stay, Their words and their knowledge record? 'Twould have helped us many times we know And been these years a great reward. of Overlook 165 Yet an impress deep I'm sure they left In deed and act and loving word; For still in recollection sweet Their happy voice is often heard. OLD GLORY. Proudly Old Glory led the way For boys by thousands in the fray; When home and country were assailed That starry banner never failed. One country and one flag, All rivals are a rag; The stars and stripes o'er land and sea Is flag enough for you and me. For just one government it stands One country in our various lands Thy floating stripes, and stars that shine Are for this dear loved land of mine, One country and one flag, All rivals are a rag; The stars and stripes o'er land and sea Is flag enough for you and me. Grand emblem pledged to home and right, Through clouds or sunshine, dark or light, Welcomed you are this whole land o'er, Old Glory now and ever more, One country and one flag, All rivals are a rag; The stars and stripes o'er land and sea Is flag enough for you and me. 166 By Snook THE ONE HUNDREDTH. Of poems many that have strayed Through fancy's domain going, This is the hundredth that I've caught By line and lasso throwing. So shy and coy these nimble elves My pen and grasp eluding, That if I come within their beat They think I am intruding. But this will make a ten times ten With titles clear and chiming, Secured at last and made quite fast With rhyming and with timing. I've half a mind to look them o'er This ninety and nine subdued, And put this one among the rest For it's of a rambling mood. You'll find some short and others long Some crisp, but we hope not dry, With beautiful trout in waters clear Near happiest birds that fly. Some mild-eyed kine with restful mjen, Some with a frisky bearing, Others perhaps a flighty kind In azure taking airing. of Overlook 167 But hold ! I see another prize Is now my fancy luring, Give me the rein and lasso quick, I'll bring him to a mooring. Now here's the key, just take your time, Look through the list at leisure ; For some will pass, the very ones That others scan with pleasure. TWILIGHT BELLS. O ! hear the ringing chimes from church bells rung ! Their pleasant tones so old are new again, And in the twilight of this happy day We share their welcome glad refrain. How many friends their mellow tones discern As gently floating o'er the valley wide, Their echoing music comes again to us, E'en softer from the other side. I wonder if in all there is a love For grandest harmony or sweetest chime, If in the hidden key-board of their souls There is a happy chord — sublime. If some have never known these feelings grand, They've lost 'tis true a goodly part, And should at once in earnestness begin To cultivate their ear and heart. 168 By Snook WHEN ELL AND I WERE YOUNG FOLKS. Well, as you've asked about tho^e times When "clearings" were by large woods hid, I'll give you now in these few lines A glimpse of what they had and did, When Ell and I were young folks. The girls dressed then in calico, Had eyes like the sparkling stars, With smiles that met the morning glow, As the cows went through the bars. When Ell and I were young folks. The boys wore boots that lacked the style, Their coats were rough, their hearts were strong. They liked with the girls to chat a while, An hour or so was not too long. When Ell and I were young folks. The people then had "husking bees/' When the neighbors came together, And "logging bees" to burn up trees, In the driest kind of weather. When Ell and I were young folks. Oh, yes, those husking bees were jolly; With smuggled red-corn-ears so -many, What a great surprise it was to Molly, That she and Jo could not find any. When Ell and I were young folks. of Overlook 169 In gay big loads they rode together, Or walked by the way in groups. We talked of something besides the weather, While dodging Cupid's darts and loops. When Ell and I were young folks. And then those promised horseback rides If we'd but rise before the sun, With fine companions by our sides, It was the greatest kind of fun. When Ell and I were young folks. Then spelling schools were all the rage, Sometimes there'd be a tussle; But one bright girl oft took the cake, While the rest went home in a hustle. When Ell and I were young folks. In lumber wagon we went to church ; Then taking neighbors was the rule, We heard the good man from his perch, And saw each other in Sunday School. When Ell and I were young folks. Then came rebellion, dark and drear, Boys went to war, the girls were sad. Their hearts were filled with, gloom and fear. But some returned and the girls were glad. When Ell and I were young folks. i7° By Snook And teaching school and "boardin' round." What fun it "wasn't " I hear you say. Well, many ideas I'm sure we found, And learned the news from day to day. When Ell and I were young folks. But there came a time one happy day, No matter when, it's all the same, That two young hearts launched on the bay, And one 'twas found had changed her name. When Ell and I left the young folks. GOLDEN TRIOS. To have a lovely landscape, Stand out in freshness new, Three things at least are needed, The sunshine, rain and dew. To have acquaintance brighten, Like a sunbeam from above, It must contain this trio, Of friendship, truth and love. And to do the best in working, Enjoying most our part, We must use the happy trio, Of head and hand and heart. Make mottoes of these trios, Watch the outcomes of their doing. They will help you in all work That's worth pursuing. of Overlook 171 BETWEEN TWO YEARS. Our lifeboat on the stream of time Is passing by a year-tower high ; We know it by its ringing chime, Its brilliant search-lights in the sky. The record says another year Is photographed on memory's walls, With all its charming landscapes dear, Its mountains, dells, and water-falls. 'Tis true we've toiled to guide our craft, Sometimes in currents swift and strong, At other times large pleasures quaffed With loved ones as we sailed along. 'Mongst islands, shoals, and rocky shore, The Guide Book helped us day by day; But for this chart, scanned o'er and o'er, We might have lost our homeward way. Strange feelings these, — our hearts they fill, The half of them no one can tell, — But surely whether good or ill We turn and bid the year farewell, And hope and trust in coming time Some skies may be so soft and clear, Landscapes may blossom into rhyme Along the way, this glad New Year. 172 By Snook WORLD'S FAIR AT CHICAGO. THE great World's Fair at Chicago, of '93, was peculiar in that it was situated by a large body of water, thus giving the weary sight seers an opportunity to look away, and to stroll on a lovely beach, or bathe in cooling waters their strained optic nerves, or aching variety, — crammed foreheads. The state buildings were restful refuges for those who knew when they had enough of sight- seeing. To have attended that "record-breaker" and not to have been jammed into a twenty-four-sided octagon, or almost gone, would be confessing a place among the minority. The great beautiful buildings, filled with the work of all peoples, and the products of all climes, were numerous and attractive. Vast complicated moving machinery of wonderful variety was easily producing automatic movements of beauty and utility, thus accurately controlling strength and motion in almost super- human results. The greatest and grandest sight and performance, was the "Parade of All Nations." It struck us — my wife and self — or would if we had not gotten out of the way, as the greatest thing we ever saw, unless it was a "June sun-rise." Talk about a stage performance, here was one miles in length. Talk about dress, here it was from nothing to everything. We really pitied the Esquimos try- ing to shield themselves from the terribly hot sun with bearskin clothes and great grizzly overcoats. of Overlook 173 The Arabs with their fiery steeds and long sharp spears and lances, were really dangerous for the small boys by hundreds, who were only tall enough to see the great parade by climbing trees and poles along the way. The Chinese Sacred Dragon, some two hundred feet in length or more, and perhaps four feet in width, with Chinamen walking in and under it, with only their feet showing, constantly twisting itself with snakelike movements, and occa- sionally darting its awful head and mouth at the shrinking crowd, will be remembered by a hundred thousand people. But that greatest parade was not cat-like, for it came not back to repeat itself; much to the sorrow of all, except the participants. The next greatest attraction, especially toward evening, seemed to be the immense stairway leading to the elevated railroad. Thousands of repentant people were not permitted to turn back, stop, or even stoop down. A lady of our acquaintance accidentally dropped a valuable handbag containing money and jewels ; vainly she tried to stop for its rescue. She could move the hearts of those within reach of her voice, but like John Brown, their souls and bodies went marching on. From her boarding place, ten miles from the grounds, she advertised in the dailies. Three days later we had the pleasure of seeing her joy at receiving from the hands of the noblest work of God, "An honest man," her precious treasures. As we launched out on our gay moon-light trip across the peaceful glittering lake, there came a tinge of sadness mixed with happy homebound glad- 174 By Snook ness, as we looked back on the beauties and glitter of the great "White City" only for a few short months to attract the world's millions, and then to become a heap of desolate ruins. Why were its foundations laid on shifting sands? Its corner stones mere pretenses, its imitated beauty mainly paint and stucco ? Henceforth only in memory or in pen pictures, shall the story of your beauty, youi instructive, entertaining inspirations exist. THE WOODLAND. How I love the woodland, With its shady trees, And its tiny leaflets Quivering in the breeze. How it gives refreshing As we in it stroll, With its quiet gladness Filling up the soul. How it whispers softly To the heart alone, Of a peace unbounded From a Father's throne. Come ye to the forest, Test its sacred charm, To the quiet woodland Of the busy farm. < o ft of Overlook 175 THE ROCKING SWING CHAIR. The rocking-swing-chair, what a comfort it is As it stands on the lawn in the shade of the trees. And so gracefully moves In the soft, balmy breeze. Chorus — O! isn't it lovely, isn't it fine, Under the butternut, under the pine, In the rocking-swing-chair With those glad friends of mine ! With seatings for four in a nice social way, How we chatter and laugh, how we rock and we swing, You'd know we are happy By the songs that we sing. Chorus — O ! isn't it lovely, isn't it fine, Under the butternut, under the pine, In the rocking-swing-chair With those true friends of mine ! And also the children with mother and me. When mild evening charms, and the hot sun is gone, How we rest, talk and sing On our own pleasant lawn. Chorus — O! isn't it lovely, isn't it fine, Under the butternut, under the pine, In the rocking-swing-chair With those dear ones of mine! 176 By Snook THE VISION OF THE VALLEY. Written in. March before Rochester's Trolley Line had secured a charter from the state, and before the great Sugar Factory had arisen to bless and sweeten humanity. Part II. — Two years later, as their bene- fits are being enjoyed. You have heard of Hiawatha, Who, in years long,long ago, Roamed the forests of the country; Toiled and labored hard to know "How the tribes of men might prosper" — How the world might better grow. Well, some pages of the story slipped away — From the fingers of the printer slipped away — And were carried through the forest By the south winds, by the north winds, By the east winds and the west winds. Striking oft upon the leaflets, And upon the flowers striking — On the flowers of the forest, There I found the story printed, Printed on the blooming flowers, On the charming dainty leaflets. If you'd like to hear the story, Printed thus — upon the leaflets, On the flowers of the forest. I will answer. I will tell you Of their purport, of their meaning And the history of a vision Shown to ancient Hiawatha — To the good, great Hiawatha — In the long, long, long ago, of Overlook 177 As he sauntered through the forests — Sad and weary through the forests — Thinking hard and trying to know "How the tribes of men might prosper," How the world might better grow. Naught he thought of birds or singing. Naught of squirrels with frisky chatter, For his heart was sad and heavy Thinking of his savage brothers Roaming helpless through the forests, Fighting, plundering each other. Suddenly he saw before him, In its spring-clad garments bright, The fair Clinton Valley's beauty, And its grand old hills of might. Long he gazed, in awe and wonder, At the splendour of the landscape — At the beauty of the landscape. Oft he'd seen this spot in childhood, Oft had roamed its creeks and rivers, Oft had caught from out their waters Fish, as large as story fishes, From their clear and shining waters. Oft in youth and oft in manhood, From its charming nooks of ambush. Had he stopped the wild deer roaming; And the turkeys, shy and wary, Carried homeward to his wigwam — For the inmates of his wigwam. All these thoughts, like lightning flashes, Crossed the mind of Hiawatha As he stood upon the hill top Gazing, wondering at the transport — Wondering at the changed condition 178 By Snook That had come before his vision. Was it true or was he dreaming, Was it true he saw a vision? Forests changed to wigwams grand; Flying coaches, rushing onward, Puffing, screeching through the land. Other coaches, without flurry, Without work and without worry Skipping up hill, skipping down hill, Racing, chasing through the country, Knowing naught of weight or weary, Caring not for hill or valley, With the lightning of their bosom Sparkling from their feet and topnot. Fields of grain, as yet unheard of Saw he waving through the valley, Saw the fields of fruit trees standing, Ripening there before his vision. Larger fruit than he had known of, Finer fruit than he had dreamed of, Ripened there before his vision. They were large, and they were larger, Ten times larger than the wild plum. Something else was far more numerous; Something else was still more plenty, Growing close in rows together; In straight, narrow rows were growing, Like the lines of fish nets seemed they Stretched across the plain and hill side. What could be this strange, new trophy? Why so straight the rows, and narrow ? Why so many people 'mong them ? Why so busy were the people ? Why so crazy were the people ? of Overlook 179 Like, the bees in search of honey — Searching hollow trees for honey. Thus he mused, and thus he pondered In perplexity and wonder, Till at length he sighed and said it: "This beets me! I'm surely beeten; All beet out trying to know How and why these strange plants grow." Thus was named the great transformer, Little though it be, but sweet, Seen in Hiawatha's vision Named by him, the Sugar Beet. Back he went into the forest, Fearing, wondering, and exulting Went he homeward through the forest, Filled with glory by the vision — By this overwhelming vision. For his mind was full of new thoughts, Thoughts of what he saw portrayed In the vision of the valley. And his voice anon would break out; Through the echoing forests ring out; Through the arches of the forest, Through the stillness of the forest. Thus in accents loud, but plaintive : "This beets me, I'm surely beeten, All beet out with trying to know How and why these strange plants grow." And the dwellers of the forests, Happy dwellers of the woodland, From their nests among the branches, From their perches in the large trees, Smiled as Hiawatha passed them; Sang and chattered as he passed them. 1 80 B y S n o k Though his friends, were fast to hear him Tell the vision of the valley — Of the beautious, wonderous valley; Of its hillsides, grand and glorious. Gorgeous with its strange production; They would not believe the vision, They could not believe his story. But they shook their heads while saying: "We believe not what we see not. You are dreaming, Hiawatha, Though we love you, though we trust you, We believe not what we see not." Thus he failed to be convincing To his brothers of the forest, To the red men of the prairies ; And they, too, could not persuade him He had only dreamed a vision, Had not really seen a vision. So he took his friend, the warrior, Pontiac, the warrior, with him To the vision place of beauty, To the spot of wondrous vision ; And they climbed a tree together, Climbed a giant oak and sturdy, On the south hill of the valley, On the summit of the hilltop. Indian fashion climbed an oak tree That they might converse in quiet, That they might the better see. "This is grand, indeed," said Pontiac, "Grander, sure, I've never known; But where, good brother, is the vision, Has it vanished now or flown?" of Overlook 181 And our Hiawatha answered, With a pitying look of wonder, With his face aglow with radiance : "See you not, my friend, the wigwams, Crowded closely in the valley, Standing thickly in the valley? With one on a little farther, Ten times larger than the largest? See you not the fields of fruitage. See you not the fields of straight rows, Pointing ever to the wigwam Ten times larger than the largest?" And the warrior in the oak tree, Gently swinging in the oak tree, Shook his head and sadly answered "We believe not what we see not. Tho' we love you, Hiawatha, Tho' we know you're good and true, You are dreaming, you are dreaming, Of the future of this spot; As for us you know our history — We believe not what we see not. What we see not we believe not." Sad was Hiawatha's visage As they clambered down the oak tree, As o'er hills and rills they wandered, For he wished his brother, also, Might the glorious vision share. Selfishness was not his motto, Goodness filled him everywhere. And the squirrels and the chipmunks And the robins and the blue jays, Sighed to see their friend look sorry, 1 82 B y S n o o k Sighed, and felt that they were sorry. Once again the following summer, After all the snows of winter, After all the banking snow drifts Had departed from the hillside, Tried our noble Hiawatha To instruct his wayward brothers And encourage them in growing, Growing better, growing kinder, Growing purer, growing nobler, That they be the happier for it, That the world may thus grow better, And if possible to show them How the spirit speaks in visions. How the great, good spirit o'er us Sometimes, through the rifting future, Lets the sunlight of his knowledge, Lets the sunlight of his favor Shine upon those nearest to him, By their faith and works the nearest, Photographing on their mind's eye Things that none have never thought of, Things that they had never dreamed of. So his messengers departed, Feathered messengers of beauty, Flying far o'er hill and forest, Through the thick and tangled forest To the hamlets of the red men, To the wigwams on the hillsides, Asking all to come together By the streamlets of the river. Near the beauteous Clinton River, And they gladly heard the message, of Overlook 18; Heard the welcome invitation From the good man of the forest, From the Prophet of the woodlands, And a flag of truce was hoisted. In among all tribes and nations From the big lake on the east side. To the big lake on the west side, For they agreed that for one summer, All should be at peace together, All should try to help each other. Thus they started on their journey, Happy in their new endeavor. Happy in the sight of new things That they saw along their journey, And the freedom of not watching Each the other, closely watching. But the war paint on their faces Still remained upon their faces, Just to show on provocation Of the hatchet's resurrection. And some poisoned arrows had they, Stowed away within their war belts. Not to use in killing wild game, Not to use in need supplying. Thus at last they reached the camping, By the pleasant pebbly rivulet, Just to northward of the Clinton. There for miles along the streamlet Camped the natives of the forest. Camped the red men of the forest. None had ever seen such camping. None had ever known such camping. Here the Prophet passed among them 184 By Snook In his goodness and his kindness, Giving now a word of council, Giving now a word of warning. Heaven seemed to grow the nearer, And right-doing seemed the dearer. And he told them, plainly told them That if happy they'd remain, They must wash the war paint from them Keep their hands and faces clean. They must cast from out their war belts All the arrows tipped with poison, All the arrows tipped with envy; All the arrows full of murder. Then they rushed into the forest, Flung the deadly missiles from them, Far into the brush they flung them, 'Mongst the bushes and the oak leaves, So that none might ever find them, So that none might ever use them. And in plowing and in dragging, Even to this present day, We do find them where they lay. Then into the creek they tumbled, Swollen high by the June freshet, Washed the war paint from their elbows Washed the war paint from their faces 'Till the creek was red with war paint, Colored through and through with war paint And they called it then the paint creek, And we call it yet, Paint Creek. Now they all had heard the story, Of the vision and its glory, And they thought they wished to see it, of Overlook 185 Anyway to try to see it. So a time was set for viewing In the early moon of summer, In the time of the wild roses. PART II. But they never saw the vision, For their hearts were dark and doubting. They were like the old tradition, They "believed not what they saw not," And 'twas only half a trying, Did not really try to see it. For their minds they'd stored with wild thoughts; Stored them full of foolish vile thoughts, And they missed the vision's glory, Told in Hiawatha's story, For they were not worthy of it. But in after years — much later, There were those who saw the vision, And were stirred to active doing. Trying hard with hearts undaunted, And with works that showed believing, Thus to make the vision real. And the great, good Spirit o'er them, Gave them wisdom for the struggle ; Helped the workers make it real. And along old Clinton's hillsides. And in Rochester today, We can see its full completion, And the glory of its presence, In the gliding of the trolley, And the sparkle of its topnot; In the shape of that large wigwam, Ten times larger than the largest. 186 By Snook And the straight rows like the fish nets, Stretched across the fields and valleys, Of that strange, that new production, Sweetest of all things most sweet, Seen in Hiawatha's vision, Named by him the "Sugar Beet." IN BLOSSOM TIME. How sweet the air in blossom time, How beautiful the trees; Fragrance is gladdening everywhere While borne upon the breeze. O blossom time! glad blossom time! We share with birds thy greeting; Our winter-frozen, stupid minds Break forth at such a greeting. There is the early apricot, The first its blossoms giving, Followed by plum and pear and peach, That help make life worth living. This giant apple tree so fine Is one bouquet of sweetness, Larger a hundred times and more Than handfuls held with neatness. I'm filled with wonder, hope and joy, My every sense breaks forth in rhyme, How can I keep from singing In spring's glad blossoming time? of Overlook 187 WHISTLES. DEDICATED TO MY FIVE BOYS. Of all the sounds that float in air, And meet us often, everywhere, None, save the scream of cannon's missile, Excites alarm as steam train's whistle. The mammoth boat has deeper blows, As o'er the splashing tide it goes ; Perhaps, for shriek that terrifies, The fire alarm would take the prize. There are the factories and mills, That wake folks up and give them chills ; Those flying 'lectrics, even they Are blowing tooters night and day. December blasts and March winds, too, Seem bound to show what they can do To frighten with their frozen whistle, As sharp and piercing as a thistle. There may be charms in all their screech, And melodies perhaps (?) in each; But none so thrill my heart with joys As the glad whistle of the boys. 188 B y S no o k IMPOSSIBLE. In ages past, when things were suitable, Creation dawned with laws immutable And then, as now, the facts of nature vied With men and nations who in concert cried, "Impossible !" They said a flood had never come, nor could; They cared not if the world were bad or good ; On what had been they only then relied, And to all thoughts of progress they replied, "Impossible." In thunder's roll or lightning's vivid glow They saw no friend, but only dreaded foe ; And if one dared to hint that it would pay To harness up the lightning, they would say, "Impossible." When later on from distant lands unseen One would return with trophies for a queen, There was a sound of pessimistic growl, That finally broke into a raging howl : "Impossible." With laws of mind and matter still the same The ways of navigation seemed too tame, And hissing steam put in a plea for speed, When sailing men sang out with doubt and greed "Impossible." LAKE OVERLOOK of Overlook 189 Thus while the world in stupid halting stood Half wondering if they could believe, or should, Came telegraph and talking telephone, Then only timid ones could say, alone, "Impossible." While now, o'er earth and sea so large and bold We use the self same powers, made of old And sending wireless message where'er we may, There is not one, who now would dare to say, "Impossible." WATER'S BENEDICTION. Oh, waters of the rolling, boundless deep, We find in thee the arm of strength Of Him who said "Thus far thy bounds are set, No further shalt thou go." Oh, waters of the earth and sky, The laws peculiar to thyself alone Speak of a Mind Supreme, Who sent thee forth to bless the world And all that dwell therein. O, sparkling, shining dew-drops, Millions by many millions Scattered o'er the fields and plain : We cannot know thy numbers vast, But we can see in thee a love so great That it has stooped to bless The lowliest shrub and humblest flower. i9° B y S-no o k MY BOOK'S FUTURE. Some things as yet unseen, I see That thrill with visions sad and glad, A strange commingling it would seem Of happenings both good and bad. In distant sometime, yet to come — - I'd spare this picture if I could — My happiest thought with beauty fraught Doing some good as kindling wood. Some copies — O ! alas, I sigh, To pawn-shop they have found their way, Where for the price of one strong drink A hundred sprightly gems they'd pay. And yet — O! joy, I see again This self-same book on mission bent Thrilling some souls with hope anew, Lone, longing hearts with glad content. A volume on the shelf there lies Covered with dust — is it not sad? Waiting, yes, waiting words to say That might make gloomy ones more glad. Others, and many we assume, Pardon the thought — a wish you know, — Shall be as comrades in true homes Where growing minds still brighter grow. of Overlook 19 1 h it too much, O! kindly friend, To see in vistas yet unknown, The happier imprints bound in verse Become companions of your own? And thus in musings of my soul, As down the track of time I look, I see the sad, the fearful fate — The glorious mission of my book. LOVE, CHARITY, GOOD-WILL. Love is the greatest thing, it's said, All others far transcending, The mildest and the strongest powers, Are ever in it blending. A little child is won by love, The strongest man surrenders, All nations bow before its touch And thus are its defenders. What love might do for me and you Is worth the while to ponder, In fitting us for life while here And in the world up yonder. Blest prize, this charity so sweet, This good-will ever cheering, May it in us be growing still The more and more endearing. i9 2 By Snook IN RESPONSE TO A TOAST "THE GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC." Ladies and Gentlemen , Young People and Children: This is a glorious sight for every loyal heart, Where bright eyed happy children take a part In patriotic song, with measured bars, And youth and beauty blend with stripes and stars. In behalf of W. P. Evart Post, and at their re- quest, I stand before you this evening. While I shall try to express some of the gladness of my heart for these kind acts of remembrance, I know I shall but faintly set forth the appreciation of every member of the order. As a society we want to thank those ladies who have so generously given of their time, aryd patience (if I may be allowed the expression) to make this occasion both pleasant and profitable to the veterans ; and to the young ladies, God bless them, and their commander who so kindly consented to undergo the bother of practice and the fatigue of marching to make this one of the grandest entertainments we ever saw, — a bewilderment of beauty, graceful movement, and precise maneuver. Having been myself drill seargent of the 22nd Michigan Infantry, at the foot of Lookout Mountain for some time, and having received high commendation for the same from Col Dean, I feel that I am in a position to appreciate and judge of this magnificant drill. So again we say thank you, one and all. of Overlook 193 Who are these that are this evening being honored in song, in sentiment, and in kind actions by the patriotic of this beautiful village? Pardon me if in answering the question I speak more particularly to the young people, who heard not the alarms of war, saw not the great excitement and the terrible realities of those four dark years, when loyal hope for our country, or fear for the welfare of those who dared her honor, were of daily occurrence. We older ones know the awful realities of those days. Friends, thirty years ago today this broad beauti- ful United States was in a fearful state of alarm, such as you can never fully know. The South were forming companies and drilling, they were banish- ing postmasters and other officers of the govern- ment, the mails were being robbed, and the masses of the South not allowed to know the true condi- tion of things. Loyal ones of that section were be- ing persecuted and fleeing for their lives. Here in the North some said, war was really coming. Others said no, it cannot be possible that there are those in our own land who would tear this great beautiful republic to pieces. And thus the war clouds grew and became thicker and blacker. God grant that your eyes may never see such times, such partings, and such tears; such necessity for patriotic sacrifice, or ears be compelled to hear the news of loved ones slain or dying in the camp far, far from home and friends. I have not time now to speak of those years. Some of the boys returned, a few are with us yet, and we have pledged ourselves to Fraternity, Charity, and Loyalty. 194 By Snook "Who are the G. A. R.'s," I heard one say Mongst children busy with their play, "And why they wear the badge and star And call themselves the G. A. R?" Oh! children in this happy land of ours Where peace and plenty fill its bowers, Tis well you ask the question now That you may know the why and how. There was a time not very long ago When trouble like a cloud was hovering low, A scheme by treacherous treason manned To spoil the blessings of our land. Then came a call for help for those who would, Twas from our country young, and bright, and good, For men to save our homes from rebel bands Our country's flag from traitors hands. These men who now wear badge and star Came forward then from near and far And said, if need be our young lives we'll give That our own blessed land may live. An army grand and great and true Of loyal men who wore the blue For the Republic's life they fought, Her honor and her peace they sought. They toiled through years of hardship and of pain, Marching through mud and sleeping in the rain, They climbed up mountains steep, and fought their way Through swamps and jungles till they gained the day. of Overlook 195 Now, don't you see that