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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
Rev. Martin Shepherd Brown. 
 
''SLEEPIN' AT THE FOOT" 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 By REV. MARTIN SHEPHERD BROWN 
 
 MEMORIAL EDITION 
 
 Collected by 
 
 MRS. JENNIE MARIE BROWN 
 
 1909 
 
PRESS OF 
 
 SENTINFL PRINTING CO. 
 
 INDIANAPOI.IS 
 
 C!3, A, :♦)! ■' 2 ' ' 
 
 }\)l 20 1909 
 
BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Rev. Martin Shepherd Brown was born on a farm near 
 English, Crawford County, Indiana, January 5, 1877. He 
 was educated in the common schools of his native county 
 and graduated from the English high school in 1894. He 
 afterward spent some time in study at the Ohio Valley 
 Normal College at Corydon, Indiana, and was afterward a 
 student at Indiana University. 
 
 He was for a good number of years both a public and 
 high school teacher in southern Indiana, and in Oklahoma. 
 Then he taught art and bookkeeping in Indianapolis. He 
 was for several years during his vacations an institute in- 
 structor in art and music in Indiana and Oklahoma. He 
 was a lecturer and cartoonist of no mean ability. But it 
 was in his calling as a minister of the gospel that he was 
 destined to win renown, having refused tempting offers as 
 a cartoonist to devote his life to his Master's service. 
 
 Trained in a Christian home, he was converted early in 
 life, and at the age of fourteen he united with the M. E. 
 Church, of which he was long a faithful member. 
 
 At the age of twenty-six he was led to devote his life to 
 the Christian ministry in his church. 
 
 His first charge was on the Acton circuit in the Indiana 
 Conference, in which charge he spent nearly three years of 
 arduous toil, in which time he led 300 into the church. His 
 next work was at Riley. Indiana, where he was even more 
 successful. 
 
 He was ordained to the ministry in 1908. He was married 
 to Miss Jennie Showalter, of Acton, Indiana, June 27, 
 1906. 
 
 After over two years of work in his last field he was 
 taken ill, and after four weeks of intense suffering he was 
 released from his labors and passed into a well-earned rest 
 on the Sabbath day, January 31, 1909. 
 
 In life he was always congenial and made friends wher- 
 ever he went. Though he was in the ministry but five years, 
 probably but few men have had a more successful ministry 
 than he, and but few left behind more friends to mourn 
 his loss. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 " I am the resurrection and the life," saith the Lord. 
 "He that believeth in me shall not perish, but have 
 everlasting life." 
 
 He who penned the following lines has passed to his re- 
 ward, and we present them to the public as a memorial to 
 his Hfe and work. To the memory of a loving husband and 
 tenderest friend these pages are most affectionately dedi- 
 cated by his wife. 
 
 Jennie Marie Brown. 
 
SLEEPIN' AT THE FOOT. 
 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma — 
 Reckon I don't rickollect? — Ah law! 
 An' you can't imagine how good it seems 
 To jist go back there in my dreams 
 To the ol' loghouse an' set an' muse 
 By the ol' fireplace — nen take a snooze 
 On the ol' cord-bed, an' "saw an' saw" 
 Sleepin' at the fuot with Pa an' Ma ! 
 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma- 
 Think I'm afraid in the dark then? Pshaw! 
 Not afraid of a grizzly bear, 
 Ner the biggest ghost that's anywhere! 
 Tucked up warm at the foot of the bed— 
 Druther sleep there than up at the head, 
 It makes no difference if feathers or straw 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma! 
 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma! 
 With Pa's big heel ag'in' my jaw, 
 Dreamin' again of childhood days 
 Livin' again the boyish ways- 
 Sweetest of all of life to me ! 
 Fondest of all in memory ! 
 When troubles of life I ne'er forsaw — 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma ! 
 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma ! 
 An' how I'd love to see her draw 
 The kivers back so soft and grand 
 An' nen to feel her gentle hand 
 A liftin' me— an' hear her speak 
 An' feel her warm lips on my cheek — 
 The happiest moment I ever saw — 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma! 
 
 Sleepin' at the foot with Pa an' Ma! 
 Safe from winter's winds so raw, 
 Safe from the howling storms of life 
 Safe from the world with all its strife. 
 O how I wish T might steal once more 
 Back through the past to the ol' log door 
 An' shut myself in for a night an' draw 
 My soul up snugly with Pa an' Ma! 
 
^^^A^ 
 
 
 TO THE OLD DEAD TREE ON THE HILL. 
 
 All my life I've watched yon standing 
 
 In the meadow on the hill, 
 And you've always looked so lonesome 
 
 With your branches cold and still. 
 
 Oft I've stood as twilight gathered, 
 When the sky was tinged with gray, 
 
 With attentive ear, and longing 
 Just to know what you would say. 
 
 Can't you tell to me the story 
 
 Of your life so long ago? 
 What has brought to you this sorrow? 
 
 For I wonder why it's so. 
 
 ''If you'll listen, I will tell you 
 What I often do repeat. 
 All this trouble that you speak of 
 Is a story true and sweet. 
 
 "Years ago a little acorn, 
 
 That had fallen from its cup, 
 Lay upon the mosses sleeping. 
 And was gently covered up. 
 
 8 
 
"This was in the time of Autumn, 
 
 When the robe of faded hue, 
 Like an old forsaken garment, 
 Lay all wrinkled in the dew. 
 
 "Through the winter's cold it slumbered, 
 But in spring it sprang to life; 
 Then began its songs of Nature — 
 Songs which mock all human strife. 
 
 "Years and years it grew still larger 
 Till it stood a spreading tree. 
 Bearing only one sweet message ; 
 This is how I came to be. 
 
 "But you see me here all lonely 
 And you wonder why it's so ; 
 It was man that made me lonely 
 Not so many years ago. 
 
 "Yet my life has long been taken. 
 
 And my boughs, though bare and cold, 
 Have been spared to tell the story 
 Which to me is never old. 
 
 "Many sweet and pleasant fables 
 
 Could I tell you of the dell ; 
 Many sighs and laughs and whispers 
 Of the wood-land could I tell. 
 
 "But I gave this life of beauty. 
 
 As a sacrifice alone, 
 And revealed the end of living 
 Which all Nature must atone. 
 
 "This the message then Til tell you : 
 
 Make your life both true and grand; 
 When your life is taken from you 
 On the hill-top you may stand." 
 
Dear old oak, thy words of wisdom 
 Make grateful thoughts within me rise; 
 
 Where'er I roam this wide world over 
 May I see thee pictured 'gainst the skies. 
 
 When the evening shadows deepen — 
 Night draws near so cold and still, 
 
 May my memory be left standing 
 Like the Dead Tree on the Hill. 
 
 10 
 
JESUS WILL BE V/ITH ME. 
 
 Some day when the shadows deepen 
 
 O'er the pathway which I tread, 
 I shall know my Lord is near me, 
 
 With his love around me spread. 
 I shall feel his touch most tender 
 
 On my brow, and hear him say, 
 'Do not fear, my child, I love thee, 
 
 I am with thee all the way," 
 
 When I enter that dark valley 
 
 Where no friend can go with me; 
 When I hear the breakers beating 
 
 From the vast eternity ; 
 Just to know that Thou art with me, 
 
 Jesus, master of the sea, 
 With thy tender smile of welcome. 
 
 Will a joy forever be. 
 
 As I reach the golden harbor 
 
 And the darkness flees away, 
 Heaven's angels there will bid me 
 
 Welcome to eternal day. 
 Earthly sorrows all forgotten. 
 
 Sin and darkness all are o'er — ■ 
 With the children's voices singing 
 
 Heaven's joys forever more. 
 
 When I stand in that fair city 
 
 With the dear ones who are there, 
 And receive a crown of beauty, 
 
 May my Lord its glory share; 
 For 'twas he in old Judea 
 
 Suffered death and cruel shame. 
 Then let Heaven sing his glory 
 
 And the angels oraise his name. 
 
 II 
 
LICKIN' THE SPOON. 
 
 I love to think of boyhood, 
 
 With its barefoot days of glee, 
 An' pawpaw, whoops an' whistles, 
 
 An' its haws an' sarvis tree; 
 But how about that castor oil? — 
 
 I won't forget that soon — 
 With six big drops of turpentine 
 
 'Nen haft to lick the spoon. 
 
 Now, of course, a lump of sugar 
 
 Is a mighty help in haste. 
 When yer taking paragorick 
 
 So's to sorter take the taste ; 
 But a barrel of sugar wouldn't 
 
 Take the taste away by noon. 
 When it comes to takin' castor 
 
 An' ye haft to lick the spoon. 
 
 Ner it done no good to mix it. 
 
 Like I've seen some people do. 
 In a teacupful of coffee 
 
 Er a maple-syrup stew, 
 Fer you'd alius git the castor — 
 
 Yes, an' taste it mighty soon, 
 An' it weren't a bit the better 
 
 Than t' haft to lick the spoon. 
 
 Lots o' times Fve thought the reason 
 
 That so many people look 
 So puny-like an' sickly, 
 
 Is because they never took 
 Their dose jist like they'd ort to — 
 
 Kinder waitin' on the moon, 
 Er something else, I reckon, 
 
 'Stid of lickin' out the spoon. 
 
 12 
 
'Course I ain't a givin' lectures 
 
 'Bout the way to cure the sick, 
 Er a sellin' of a remedy 
 
 To kill a pain right quick ; 
 Yit I never knowed a treatment 
 
 That would cure so awful soon 
 But what afore 't was over with 
 
 They had to lick the spoon. 
 
 So when the dose is bitter 
 
 An' we've got to take it down, 
 Les shet our eyes an' swaller 
 
 An' without a gag or frown; 
 Cause the world has got its sorrows 
 
 Fur us all, both night an' noon. 
 But I'm sure we'll come out better 
 
 If we'll bravely lick the spoon. 
 
 13 
 
MUSINGS OF OLD UNCLE NED. 
 
 Things ain't like they used to be, 
 They've ruther changed to mystery. 
 And every pleasure that once did seem 
 Of mine to be, is but a dream. 
 I've traveled long this path of life 
 That's filled with contentions and strife; 
 And yet, whene'er I think to die 
 There's somthin' nuther seems to tie 
 My heart, which now in rapture thrills, 
 To the wood and glen and forest-hills. 
 But now the music of the bird 
 Is not to me as once I heard ; 
 The songs that once did give relief 
 Are battling now with untold grief. 
 When now I come to view the place 
 Where loved ones met me face to face; 
 When now I see the home so well 
 Where dearest friend I bade farewell, 
 I look to Him whom oft I've told 
 That He my sorrows may behold. 
 When all the world seemed cold and still 
 He did his promises fulfill; 
 And as my sorrows are but great, 
 I will but look to Him and wait. 
 
 I see once more the home of youth. 
 The blessed smiles of love and truth. 
 The love-light gathers round the hearth 
 Mingled with unmolested mirth ; 
 Foot-steps soft and voices sweet 
 That often did my coming greet. 
 Alas! how changed and different all! 
 Sweet summer leaves must sere and fall. 
 Each place that's vacant round the stone 
 Is now most brilliant round the throne. 
 And as my years are speeding by 
 I'll live in faith to meet on high. 
 
 14 
 
OUT IN OKLAHOMA. 
 
 It's jis' the same ol' sun a-shinin' 
 
 Out here, peers lik, as it wuz 
 When we left ol' Indiany— 
 
 I don' know — sometimes it does 
 Seem, perhaps, a leetle warmer — 
 
 Maby I'm mistaken, though. 
 But there's one thing purty sartin — 
 
 Beats all how the wind can blow ! 
 
 Blow, did I say? Well, I reckon! 
 
 Why, by gum ! I've run m\- hat 
 Every day sence we've ben out here — 
 
 Now I don' know where it's at. 
 Course, I s'pose I'll git to like it 
 
 Out here maby— I don' know- 
 Crops is good, and so's the neighbors 
 
 Beats all how the wind can blow! 
 
 W'y, the first day we got out here. 
 
 It wuz jis' so nice an still 
 I tol' Marthy an' the chilern 
 
 'At we'd seed our last big hill ; 
 Course, I don' know what she's thinkin'- 
 
 Marthy alius was right slow 
 'Bout complainin'— Well, she did say 
 
 "Beats all how the wind can blow!" 
 
 The trouble is, it's too oncertain; 
 
 Now like yisterday I thought 
 I'd take a load of cobs to Newton's 
 
 Nen bring back a stove I'd bought. 
 An' before I got my horses 
 
 More 'an half-way hitched to go 
 Saw a big ol' "norther" comin' — 
 
 Beats all how the wind can blow ! 
 
 15 
 
Oh! I guess we'll jis' stay out here. 
 
 Sowed two forties down in wheat, 
 Think next year I'll try some cotton — 
 
 Oklahoma can't be beat. 
 All ye do to crops is plant 'em, 
 
 Nen jis' set an' watch 'em grow; 
 Course, there's some things not so pleasant 
 
 Beats all how the wind can blow ! 
 
 MATILDA. 
 
 W'y, she won't way more'n ninty ! 
 
 Er a hundred at 'er best, 
 But I somehow keep a thinkin' 
 
 'At she's better'n all the rest. 
 Course I know now there's Susanar — 
 
 Jist as good as she can be, 
 An' there's Eveline an' Dor'thy — 
 
 Jist plum full of fun an' glee, 
 But there's something 'bout Matilda — 
 
 I don't know, sometimes it seems 
 'At I think so much about 'er, 
 
 I can see 'er in my dreams. 
 After all she aint so purty 
 
 Ner she doesn't dress so fine. 
 But there's somethin' 'bout her actin' 
 
 'At jist takes these eyes o' mine. 
 Wisht you'd see 'er when she's milkin' 
 
 With 'er mother's big ol' shawl 
 On 'er head — an' that blue apern — 
 
 Nen I wish you'd hear 'er call 
 When the cows are in the pasture — 
 
 Don't ye know, I sometimes think 
 When I'm in the field a plowin' 
 
 I can hear 'er callin' "Pink." 
 Wisht you'd sometimes hear 'er singin' 
 
 Er a readin' from a book 
 Er a hummin' in the kitchen 
 
 When she's startin' in to cook. 
 
 i6 
 
Yes, cr even hear 'er laughin' — 
 
 Why I do jist wish ye could — 
 'Bout some joke 'er somethin' 'r other 
 
 I jist b'lieve it'd do ye good. 
 But sometime when you are weary 
 
 When your soul is full of grief, 
 When your heart is almost broken 
 
 An' ye long to find relief, 
 Nen I wish you'd see 'er smilin' 
 
 With such gentleness an' cheer, 
 See 'er eyes so soft an' tender. 
 
 Hear 'er voice so soft an' clear, 
 Nen you'd see some teardrops fallin' 
 
 As they used to fall fer me 
 An' you'd feel 'er gentle spirit 
 
 With its love an' sympathy. 
 I jist gess that's why I love 'er — 
 
 I can't tell — I wisht I could, 
 Why she's best, unless the reason 
 
 Is, because she's jist so good. 
 
 17 
 
A MOST PECULIAR MUSE. 
 
 I took my book an' pencil — 
 
 Thought I'd stroll out through the wood 
 Till my soul 'us full of music 
 
 Then I'd write up somethin' good. 
 Fur the papers, when they git it — 
 
 Well, unless yer piece is fit 
 To put right up in printin", 
 
 That's the last ye'll see of it. 
 
 So I walked out through the medder, 
 
 Where the grasses whispered low. 
 An' the golden-rods 'us noddin'. 
 
 Where the cat-tails used to grow. 
 An' I heard the tall Vernonia 
 
 Sing a love-song" to the tree, 
 An' I tell ye that their music 
 
 Wus as sweet as it could be. 
 
 Down the ol' road, roun the hillside. 
 
 Then I wandered carelessly 
 To the deep an' shaded lowland. 
 
 Where I loved so much to be ; 
 Where I used to love to linger. 
 
 Till my boyish soul 'ud git 
 Jist so full of nature's music 
 
 I can purtny feel it yit. 
 
 How all nature seemed to thrill me. 
 
 As my soul 'us filled with joy. 
 An' again the happy moments 
 
 Come to me as when a boy ! 
 How I longed to write the story. 
 
 As I then set down to rest, 
 When my soul was lifted higher 
 
 By a yeller-jacket's nest!!!! 
 
 i8 
 
BROTHER "DICK." 
 
 I often think of brother "Dick" 
 An' sometimes jist git pkmi homesick 
 
 To see 'im now agin. 
 An' once 'n a while I take a bawl, 
 An' I don' know but after all 
 
 As 'at's a great big sin. 
 
 Of course we aint so fur away 
 But what I could most any day 
 
 Go visit him an' "Joe." 
 But somehow, sir, I alius wuz 
 So chicken hearted that it does 
 
 Seem hard to plum outgrow. 
 
 Ye see now, Dick an' me wuz all 
 The boys Pap had, an' long las' fall 
 
 Dick thought he'd tr}^ the South, 
 Fur crops had been so awful bad 
 They weren't no one up here that had 
 
 A thing left from the drouth — 
 
 An' I don' know but what it's best 
 Fur a feller to sorter steal his nest 
 
 Ofif som'ers anj^way. 
 Fur the chicken 'at stays 'round where 'e 'us hatched 
 Won't find many bugs where the old'ns scratched. 
 
 That is, enough to pay. 
 
 An' nen whenever 3^e try to crow 
 
 If yer off somewhere, wy don't ye know 
 
 They'll not be doubtin yer stock 
 An' call ye a "Bantam" an' shew ye down. 
 But every feller 'at comes aroun' 
 
 '111 say yer a "Plymouth Rock." 
 
 19 
 
I guess Dick's doin' well enough, 
 The way the papers kinder puff 
 
 About 'im since 'e went. 
 But whether they puff er not, it's Dick 
 To jis git down an' work an' stick 
 
 An' never keer a cent. 
 
 An' 'at jis makes me think of how 
 The feller ust to work an' plow 
 
 Before he's even strong. 
 An' how he chopped an' labored so 
 A carryin' back-logs thru the snow 
 
 When Pap wuz sick so long. 
 
 Dick, I jis can't help it if I do 
 Happen to tell I'm proud o' you 
 
 Sence you've dim up so grand. 
 An' if it wer'nt fur people now 
 A talk'in, I'd jis tell ye how 
 
 I'd love to shake ver hand. 
 
 .^'/. 
 
 '^flUM? 
 
MY FATHER. 
 
 To whose noble heart these lines are most sacredly dedi- 
 cated on his sixty-first birthday, March 29, 1903. 
 
 I think of you. dear father, now 
 
 So oft since we're apart, 
 And feel the tender cord that binds 
 
 Me to your noble heart; 
 I think of all you've borne for me 
 
 Through all these years so true, 
 Then why should I once hesitate 
 
 To tell my love for you! 
 
 You, who held me in your arms 
 
 So oft in tender years. 
 And planned for me a noble life 
 
 With prayers and bitter tears; 
 You, who taught me by your own 
 
 A life so pure and sweet — 
 Should not I hold sacred e'er 
 
 The steps of your dear feet! 
 
 And when I think of how your lot 
 
 Has been so filled with pain 
 And how affliction held you so, 
 
 My heart is touched again ; 
 For oft I've seen the tear-drops fall 
 
 From your fond eyes so dear. 
 And saw the manly struggle that 
 
 Has kept you with us here. 
 
 But nobly you have borne it all, 
 
 So patient you have been. 
 And though your body's wrecked and weak, 
 
 Yet still so pure within 
 Is your sweet life of hope and love 
 
 So precious to us all, 
 So full of Heaven's peace and joy 
 
 That waits the Master's call. 
 
God bless your clear old heart today, 
 
 And may His tender grace 
 Still grant to us through other years 
 
 The light of your sweet face. 
 And may your manly spirit be 
 
 With us to guide and cheer, 
 As oft it has so nobly done 
 
 In days to us most dear. 
 
 But should we never meet again, 
 
 Dear father, oh! how sweet 
 Will be the happy greeting when 
 
 We meet at Jesus' feet! 
 For there no pain shall ever come 
 
 To mar the peace and love 
 Of that fair land where beauty dwells, 
 
 In Heaven's bright land above ! 
 
A LETTER TO SISTER MINNIE. 
 
 Ben a thinkin' 'bout yc, Minnie, 
 
 Thought we'd write most every day, 
 Cause we know'd ye'd be so lonesome 
 
 Sence the other gals wuz 'way. 
 But somehow we kep neglectun 
 
 And we jist plum put it off 
 Till we're 'shamed purtny to write ye, 
 
 Course I've had an offil cough. 
 
 Marth and me have been a thinkin' — 
 
 Course we know'd ye had a home 
 There with mother 'n pap, a teachin', 
 
 But we loud ye liked to come 
 When yer school wuz out and see us, 
 
 If you thought you'd like it here — 
 Marthy said you's jist as welcome 
 
 As you could be — It aint fur. 
 
 Wy, we've ben here now I reckon 
 
 Right close on to thirteen year — 
 Guess we've done right well considerin; 
 
 Course we're not fixed up out here 
 Like we wuz in Indiany — 
 
 Lumber cost so much ye know, 
 We aint got our house quite finished — 
 
 You can put up with it, though. 
 
 Marthy said she had a feller 
 
 Picked out fur ye when ye come — 
 'Kind a bachelor, I reckon — 
 
 I don't know jist where he's frum. 
 Think he come here 'long in August, 
 
 Er — September, guess it wuz — 
 He's alright— I guess he's forty. 
 
 Work? Well you jis' bet he does! 
 
 23 
 
Write and tell us when ye're comin', 
 
 Anyhow a day er so 
 'Fore ye start so's we can meet ye. 
 
 Archie says he's goin' to go 
 To the train with me an' Marthy 
 
 So you'll get to see his suit — 
 Got it Monday when I's over 
 
 To the farmers' institute. 
 
 I don't guess you'd hardly know 'im 
 
 Now — he's gettin' up so tall 
 'At we can't keep clos' to fit him. 
 
 My! and learnin' — W'y last fall 
 Had to get a new Third Reader; 
 
 And I ekspect this year he'll need 
 'Nother book, for someway 'r other 
 
 Seems like he jis' loves to read. 
 
 Well I guess I'll stop, and tell ye 
 
 All about it when ye come, 
 And I ekspect. too, maby Marthy 
 
 Will be fixed for talkin' some. 
 Tell pap I said him and mother 
 
 Had to come next time, and see 
 How we live in Oklahoma — 
 
 'Taint much like it ust to be. 
 
 24 
 
WHININ'. 
 
 Uv all the mortal ailin's 
 
 That's a pesterin' the race, 
 An' them that's downright ketchin' 
 
 When you stop an' kinder trace 
 The symptoms uv 'em keerful, 
 
 S'as to know you're in the right, 
 A case of plain-out whinin' 
 
 Puts 'em all plum out of sight. 
 
 I kin put up with gruntin' 
 
 If it's toothache er a bile 
 Er someone's feelin' puny — 
 
 But if you jis want to rile 
 My dander up to business 
 
 Till ye git me out of line, 
 When they haint a thing a hurtin' 
 
 Let some feller start a whine. 
 
 Er some ol' woman either, 
 
 Fur it's jist the same ol' whine, 
 'Cept it's keyed a little higher 
 
 S'as to show it's feminine — 
 Kinder what you'd call surpranner. 
 
 Sometimes alto, too, I guess, 
 Nen when mixed with bass an' tenor 
 
 It makes music I confess. 
 
 I sometimes think it's catchin' 
 
 If 3^er 'mongst it very much ; 
 Er a sociatin' with it — 
 
 I've seed cases of jist such, 
 Where it peered to run in famlies 
 
 Er at times, a neighborhood, 
 'An the children all 'ud take it 
 
 Till they'd break out with it good. 
 
 An' somehow them 'at got it 
 Never seem to get plum well, 
 
 They's more or less of symptoms 
 Alius plain enough to tell 
 
 25 
 
That poison's still a lurkin' 
 In the system some'rs yit, 
 
 A waitin' fur a fever 
 Jist to agg it on a bit. 
 
 It might be vaccination 
 
 Would be good in helping out — 
 To keep the thing from spreadin', 
 
 But I think, beyond a doubt, 
 As long as they is people 
 
 On this side the judgment line, 
 They'll be a few amongst 'em 
 
 That'll alius keep a whine. 
 
 I think a dose of gospel 
 
 In the good ol' fashioned style- 
 Before it's been diluted — 
 
 Frum the contents of the vial 
 Where God has done the mixin' 
 
 Once for all the human race. 
 When took by His directions 
 
 Will affect most any ca>.e. 
 
 26 
 
WHEN GRANTA COMES. 
 
 When gran'pa comes he always brings 
 Cakes an' candy an' lots o' things, 
 An' takes ns up on his knee an' sings, 
 
 Nen hums — 
 
 When gran'pa comes. 
 
 When gran'pa comes he talks and talks, 
 
 An' tells about a horse 'at balks, 
 
 An' shows how old man Higgins walks, 
 
 Nen hums — 
 
 When gran'pa comes. 
 
 When gran'pa comes he always feeds 
 An' helps us thrash out mustard-seed, 
 Nen washes an' combs an' sets an' reads 
 
 An' hums — 
 
 When gran'pa comes. 
 
 When gran'pa comes he sets up late 
 An' makes me pictures on my slate. 
 An' makes crowfoots an' dolls for Kate, 
 
 Nen hums — 
 
 When gran'pa comes. 
 
 When gran'pa comes next time, I'll get 
 
 To take another ride an' set 
 
 With him up where he drives ol' "Bet," 
 
 An' hums — 
 
 When gran'pa comes. 
 
 27 
 
THE OL' BOOT-JACK. 
 
 It's been a long time sence them days 
 
 When Mother 'n Pap 'us alive 
 An' all us chilern 'us little tads 
 
 When Ed wern't more 'an five. 
 An' don't ye know now ever time 
 
 I let my mind go back. 
 I somehow jist can't help but think 
 
 About the ol' boot- jack. 
 
 W'y law! I can see the ol' fireplace 
 
 With its bright an' cheery glow 
 An' all us chilern settin' 'round 
 
 The ol' harth in a row — 
 Nen afterwhile you'd hear Pap say, 
 
 "Come now, les all push back — 
 It's time we's all in bed — an' Tom, 
 
 Bring in the ol' boot- jack." 
 
 But pore ol' Pap — I wish I could 
 
 Jist hear 'im talk again 
 An' hear 'im tellin' jokes an' laugh. 
 
 An' see 'im set an' grin. 
 An' nen see Mother hang the pot 
 
 An' stuff the ol' door-crack, 
 An' set an' knit an' watch us when 
 
 We used the ol' boot-jack. 
 
 An' my! but how I loved to put 
 
 My heels within its grip 
 An' nen jist set back plum full tilt 
 
 An' feel my ol' boot slip, 
 An' nen ketch hold of Granny's chur 
 
 To keep from fallun back — 
 Say! I'd pull 'em off right now. I b'lieve, 
 
 'F I had the ol' boot-jack. 
 
 28 
 
I often think of them good times 
 
 That seem so sweet to me, 
 When nuthin come about to spile 
 
 The hours of fun an' glee; 
 An' ever time I git a chance 
 
 To wander o'er the track, 
 I want to stop an' stay all night 
 
 An' use the ol' boot- jack. 
 
 NO WELCOME. 
 
 The Master called in childhood, 
 In life's sweet, golden day. 
 When love knew not a sorrow — 
 He called — and went away. 
 
 Again, in youth He whispered, 
 When spring had reached it's May 
 Of flowers, song and sunshine — 
 He called — but went away. 
 
 He called in life's fair moontime. 
 To cheer the heart's dismay, 
 'Mid toil and pain and longing — 
 He called — and went away. 
 
 At evening, in the twilight, 
 With hope's last fading ray 
 He lingered, sad, heart-broken — 
 He called — and went away. 
 
 29 
 
WHEN YE GIT BACK WHERE YER KNOWED. 
 
 I've been away from home a heep, 
 
 But sometimes I jist git 
 So awful homesick all at once, 
 
 I can't git rid of it. 
 No matter what I'm workin' at 
 
 Er how my wealth has growed 
 They hain't a thing '11 "help me 
 
 Till I git back where I'm knowcd. 
 
 Ye see it makes a feller feel 
 
 Jis' like he's young again 
 To git back to the same ol' woods 
 
 'At he 'us raised up in ; 
 To meet an' shake hands with his friends 
 
 An' schoolmates who have growed 
 Plum till ye couldn't tell 'em 
 
 When ye git back where yer knowed. 
 
 There's somethin' kinder solemn-like 
 
 About it when ye think 
 Of how ye used to lay down at 
 
 The ol' spring branch an' drink ; 
 An' how ye climbed the steep hillside 
 
 To roll down rocks, an' throw'd 
 At birds an' trees an' hornets 
 
 When ye lived back where yer knowed. 
 
 I love the happy days of youth 
 
 I love each bird an' tree. 
 An' every foot of mossy earth 
 
 Is sacred yit to me : 
 An' oft I hear the echoes clear 
 
 Of boyish voices throw'd 
 From hillsides over meadows 
 
 Like I used to where I's knowed. 
 
 An' when the weary pathway seems 
 
 Too steep for me to tread 
 An' life with all its burdens seems 
 
 Too hard, I want instead 
 To go l:)ack in my memory 
 
 Beside the shady road 
 An' smell the woods an' clover, 
 
 Like I used to where I's knowed. 
 
 30 
 
NATURE. 
 
 Nature fashions, we may say, 
 In some silent mystic way, 
 All her robes of grand array, 
 
 Which she wears. 
 And before the coming morn. 
 Has arrived with toil and scorn, 
 Treads the pathway to adorn 
 
 All our cares. 
 
 As the evening shadows still 
 O'er the meadows and the hill, 
 Then she wispers to the rill 
 
 In the dale ; 
 And she trains the little bird 
 In a language not of word, 
 How to sing the songs we heard 
 
 From the vale. 
 
 Did you ever see her dressed 
 
 When you thought she looked the best, 
 
 Not forgetting all the rest. 
 
 She once wore? 
 Do you think she looks in style. 
 As she passes down the aisle, 
 With her same sweet pleasant smile 
 
 As before? 
 
 Were you ever made rejoice 
 By the sweetness of her voice, 
 With your loneliness your choice, 
 
 Unaware ! 
 As you walked across the field 
 Did you ever pause to yield 
 To the beauties she revealed 
 
 Everywhere ? 
 
 31 
 
I have looked into the sky, 
 
 When the clouds were heaped up high 
 
 And I saw her passing by 
 
 On her throne. 
 And along the rough old lane, 
 Where I'd like to play again. 
 She, I know, did ''use" to reign, 
 
 All alone. 
 
 When I wandered o'er the wold, 
 
 All thy glories to behold. 
 
 Something came and whispered bold, 
 
 Likei an elf ; 
 And returning by the glen. 
 Like the rambling of the wren. 
 Looked into the pool and then — 
 
 Saw myself. 
 
 Nature fashions, we may say. 
 If we'll only take her way. 
 All our lives from day to day, 
 
 By her own. 
 And the truth that's everywhere 
 Will bespeak our every care. 
 And her glories we will share 
 
 On our throne. 
 
 32 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 Far out is stretched thy rugged form from zone to zone, 
 
 Upon her mystic throne, 
 
 Where sweetest notes refrain, 
 And every dell in whispers doth complain ; 
 Where golden sunbeams seek and find domain, 
 
 Queen Nature rules supreme. 
 And untold millions creep and struggle through life's dream. 
 
 'Tis here the birds and beasts attend the brook's repine. 
 
 All homage to Divine, 
 
 The gift which Nature owes, 
 By landscape's beauty at the evening's close ; 
 And voices of the twilight in repose, 
 
 Be done e'en by the grave. 
 And yet in silence like the moon-beam, gentle, suave. 
 
 The wondrous hills and vales, the mighty fall relate. 
 
 Yet doomed be thy fate; 
 
 The sweetest notes are borne, 
 From glen and bough and shady nook forlorn; 
 And purest gems from Flora do adorn 
 
 Thy brow with tender smiles. 
 And yet thy furrowed visage untold years beguiles. 
 
 The mountain peaks, like spires above thy cities rise ; 
 
 Ascending to the skies, 
 
 The smoky volumes burst. 
 Where fiery droughts have quenched the gorge's thirst; 
 And village, field and forest were immersed, 
 
 By flowing streams of fire. 
 And thundering tones retire where tones alone retire. 
 
 Upon thy fields and plains encamp a mighty host ; 
 
 And like the sparkling frost, 
 
 Upon the meadow gray, 
 A wondrous fleet lies anchored in the bay; 
 And cables thread the ocean far away, 
 
 To bear thy people's thought, 
 And stretching o'er thy face great wonders have been wrought. 
 
 33 
 
This is the state of man. Behold him on his throne, 
 
 Reigning from zone to zone; 
 
 Nor does he lack for power 
 But casts his face to heaven day and hour, 
 Whence cometh wisdom like the summer shower, 
 
 And like the torrents roll 
 Eroding even to the cleansing of the soul. 
 
 Look up, proclaim. Oh smile, ye regions of my soul 
 
 Ye mountains of the pole 
 
 Shake down your rugged walls 
 And let the golden beams whose sweetness falls 
 Once kiss the brook where darkness now enthrals ; 
 
 Speak truth where vapors rise. 
 For they, though wafted off. return to thy surprise. 
 
 DRANPA'S HOE. 
 
 Say, Uncle Martie, w'y don't you know 
 You mus'nt bother Dranpa's hoe. 
 Cause Dranpa. he— he said so. 
 
 An' don't you know, w'y Dranpa, he 
 
 Said 'at you must let it be 
 
 So he can catch a mole, ye see. 
 
 Uncle Martie. d'you think moles is cute? 
 An' haint they got the sharpest snoot, 
 An' they can 'ist root an' root. 
 
 I tell ye the moles is awful bad — 
 
 Dranpa sometimes looks plum mad 
 
 An' says 'f they's all dead he'd be glad. 
 
 Wouldn't you hate to be a mole 
 
 An' haft to just keep root'n a hole — 
 
 I wouldn't do it to save your soul! 
 
 34 
 
MY GRANDFATHER'S COTTAGE. 
 
 When reflecting o'er life's early morning, 
 O'er visions that once used to be, 
 
 Like a stream from a pure flowing fountain, 
 Come the memories that are sweet to me. 
 
 Among them the purest and brightest, 
 That are written in memory's book. 
 
 Is my grandfather's old log cottage, 
 Just the way its used to look. 
 
 The pathway that led up the hillside. 
 
 So steep and winding I see. 
 The gate where we entered the pasture, 
 
 And by it the old beech tree. 
 
 The barn that stood on the hill-top. 
 
 And the peach trees as sentinels so near. 
 
 Are pictures so plain and so vivid, 
 
 That shall never from my mind disappear. 
 
 Oft have I thought of the garden, 
 And the old fence around it so tall. 
 
 And the gooseberry row in the center, 
 Like a natural living wall. 
 
 Just west of the house was the orchard, 
 
 With apples so pretty and red, 
 And one kind, I remember especially. 
 
 Were almost as large as my head. 
 
 When a boy 'twas the greatest of pleasures, 
 
 And now 'tis a pleasure to tell. 
 How I liked to turn the big roller. 
 
 That drew the water up from the well. 
 
 The smoke-house, I surely must mention, 
 The crib, I must not leave alone, 
 
 And even just around the corner, 
 The large old grinding-stone. 
 
 35 
 
The cottage was old, old fashioned, 
 
 With windows few and small. 
 And steps so high and queer-looking, 
 
 And a chimney so straight and tall. 
 
 The main room was warm and spacious. 
 
 With a fire-place large and wide. 
 And beyond this the bed-room and kitchen, 
 
 And a porch at the southern side. 
 
 I liked to visit my grandpapa. 
 
 He ate such peculiar bread, 
 And always kept a whole keg of peanuts 
 
 Away back under the bed. 
 
 My grandfather has moved to Carolina, 
 
 The cotter has a different name. 
 The buildings are partially destroyed 
 
 And the surroundings are not just the same. 
 
 But though they be changed into castles, 
 Into mansions, palaces or towers, 
 
 Forever will I keep these as treasures 
 Of childhood's most happy hours. 
 
 
 36 
 
THE HAPPY DAYS GONE BYE. 
 
 I often think of the days, dear boys, 
 
 Of the happy days gone bye, 
 When billows were not on the ocean, 
 
 And clouds were not in the sky; 
 When youthful minds were at liberty, 
 
 When Nature was delightful to see, 
 When the sun had risen before us 
 
 To hasten us to eternity. 
 
 Could I bring back the days of my childhood. 
 
 As memory recalls them to me. 
 Innumerable are the enjoyments 
 
 And many bright faces to see; 
 Faces that once wore but gladness. 
 
 That knew not the sorrows and cares 
 That we meet on life's field of battle. 
 
 And the pathway obstructed with snares. 
 
 Bring back to me songs of the woodland. 
 
 Of the blue bird, the mocking bird and wren, 
 Bring back those hours of ramble, 
 
 Through forest, through valley and glen. 
 The hum that comes from the reapers. 
 
 The music so sweet from the rill. 
 Come back like the echo of a bugle 
 
 From the summit of a far distant hill. 
 
 The fragrance that comes from the orchard. 
 
 The whispers so silent from the boughs. 
 And the dew drop that falls from the Ijlossom, 
 
 A feeling of sublimity did arouse; 
 The voices that come forth from Nature, 
 
 From the meadows so damp and so gray. 
 Like the music of a skillful musician, 
 
 Poured forth their melodious lay. 
 
 The school house where once I delighted 
 In games with my playmates so dear. 
 
 Brings back to my memory enjoyments 
 And voices I once loved to hear. 
 
 Z7 
 
My school days are gone now forever, 
 My schoolmates I'll meet never more, 
 
 But trust that I'll meet them at roll call 
 In mansions on the opposite shore. 
 
 They are gone, the days of most pleasure, 
 
 Down the dark lonely valley of time, 
 But the echoes will ever revibrate 
 
 Through the valleys of life's changeful clime 
 And when life seems a tiresome journey, 
 
 When pleasures we almost deny, 
 I'll harken to the whispers still coming 
 
 Of the Happy Days Gone Bye. 
 
 THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 We can easily learn from History's page, 
 
 How the Nation got mad and was all a rage ; 
 How the "Ship of State" divided her crew, 
 
 And after quarreling, they fought it through. 
 The waves of the Revolution had given her a shock, 
 
 But never before had she struck such a rock. 
 It divided her hull and severed her keel, 
 
 And tattered her sails and ribs of steel. 
 Ah! great was the struggle and terrible the right, 
 
 And many the souls that were called to their flight. 
 The real cause that made such a thing to be 
 
 Was surely the introduction of Slavery. 
 The battles were many; the armies were strong, 
 
 And each side thought that the other was wrong. 
 The storm moved on with its terrible strength. 
 
 Till it swept o'er the Union to all its length. 
 After it passed over — an elapse of five years, 
 
 A newly born nation now appears ; 
 And then, after all of the fears and the harms. 
 
 The brothers made friends and laid down their arms. 
 Oh ! may they forever, though enemies once been, 
 
 Decide such questions without so much sin. 
 May He who e'er reigneth o'er the ocean and land, 
 
 Pilot us to that harbor with omnipotent hand. 
 
 38 
 
THE ECLIPSE. 
 
 The sky was clear, the wind was low, 
 
 The moon was fair and bright, 
 The evening shadows darker grew 
 
 At coming of the night; 
 No sound was heard except the wind, 
 
 While passing through the trees, 
 And tinklings from the herd at graze 
 
 Which came from o'er the leas. 
 
 A picture on the wall was made 
 
 By trees so thick and green; 
 Beneath each tree with branches low, 
 
 A shady vault was seen ; 
 Across the meadows still and dark 
 
 The streamlet calmly flowed, 
 And like a diamond pure and bright 
 
 Its silver waters glowed. 
 
 The light shone through the window-panes 
 
 And painted on the wall, 
 A picture with a back-ground fair 
 
 Of trees that were so tall; 
 Noiselessly down the wall it crept, 
 
 The shadow and the light. 
 While upward moved the moon in space 
 
 In the heavens shining bright. 
 
 The moon rose high above the earth. 
 
 The stars shone forth with praise; 
 I thought of those in quiet sleep 
 
 Beneath her silver rays; 
 They dreaded not the coming time 
 
 When shadows should appear. 
 Nor woke to watch the light depart 
 
 With trembling and with fear. 
 
 But lo ! the shadow slowly came 
 
 Upon the moon so fair, 
 Her face was hidden from our sight, 
 
 'Twas darkness everywhere ; 
 
 39 
 
At length it all did fade away 
 
 And in the distance far, 
 Was seen the glowing radiance 
 
 Of a large and brilliant star. 
 
 'Twas God Almighty's handiwork 
 
 In realms of bliss above, 
 That tells us of His mighty power — 
 
 A Savior's dying love. 
 An emblem of the coming time 
 
 When life shall be no more, 
 When death has conquered every clime 
 
 To Jordon's farther shore. 
 
 Oh! woeful creatures of this land. 
 
 While hope survives with life, 
 Remove, oh, quickly! from your souls. 
 
 The Eclipse of sin and strife ; 
 Go to the Savior of the world. 
 
 Who reigns o'er sea and land. 
 And be ye saved forevermore 
 
 By his almighty hand. 
 
 'Tis true that every one must die. 
 
 Despite our wealth and strife, 
 But by the grace of Christ the Lord 
 
 We have Eternal Life. 
 Then let our faces beam with light. 
 
 Though mists and fogs do roam. 
 That we may help some fallen one 
 
 To reach the Heavenlv home. 
 
 40 
 
TO THE BROOK. 
 
 When the long sultry days of the summer 
 
 Are come to elongate the year, 
 When the leaves of the willow are drooping 
 
 In the heat of the atmosphere. 
 When the voice of the song-bird is silent, 
 
 And the hum of the reaper is still, 
 Thou greetest with welcoming laughter, 
 
 To partake from thy sparkling rill. 
 
 From out the shade of the branches low. 
 
 Come forth all thy murmurs so sweet. 
 And sparkling, bubbling o'er pebbles white, 
 
 In echoes thy voices repeat : 
 "Come on, thou weary and way-worn son, 
 
 A welcome is given to thee. 
 To take from the fountain of Nature rich, 
 
 A blessing that is purity." 
 
 A blessing thou art from the Father, 
 
 Whose mercies thou showest to men. 
 And sweet are the songs thou singest 
 
 In the silence of the dark, lonely glen. 
 They soothe all the feelings of longing. 
 
 They quicken the passion of love, 
 And cause to vanish all the cares of earth 
 
 By whispers of all things above. 
 
 A feeling of sublime comes over me, 
 
 As I kneel to partake of thy wealth, 
 And my soul, though heavy with burden, 
 
 Is restored to enjoyment and health; 
 For this is a moment when Nature, 
 
 In all of her beauty most fair, 
 Seems to speak to me of happiness. 
 
 And a part of my sorrows to share. 
 
 41 
 
I praise thee for healing my sorrows, 
 
 For the lessons made known unto me, 
 For the promise thy maker hath given, 
 
 Of blessings through eternity; 
 And trust that when'er I approach thee, 
 
 Though burdened with life's toilsome ways 
 I'll harmonize thoughts with thy laughter, 
 
 In offering to God all my praise. 
 
 42 
 
MY LITTLE NEPHEW. 
 
 (iRL WEBB BROWN.) 
 
 To whose tender little heart these lines are most sacredly 
 dedicated. 
 
 Sweet little bright-faced man, now do 
 
 You know how much I think of you, 
 
 With your tender little heart 
 
 And the tears that I saw start 
 
 When we knew we had to part 
 
 For awhile? 
 Do you know how much I miss, 
 When you're way off now like this, 
 Two little lips I used to kiss — 
 And your smile? 
 
 I wonder if you've forgotten when we 
 Played out under the old "Beech Tree," 
 With our windmill in the shade 
 And the tunnel that you made 
 With your little hoe and spade 
 
 In the sand ? 
 And the time we raked the leaves 
 To a heap like golden sheaves, 
 When they got in Lowell's sleeves — 
 Wasn't that grand? 
 
 Do you remember the time we rode 
 On the big sled the day it snowed — 
 You and Gran'ma Webb and I — 
 Down the hill so steep and high? 
 My ! but didn't we make 'er fly 
 
 Through the snow ! 
 Yes, and when I pulled the sled 
 Up the road the time you said 
 I was hauling a man that 'us dead — 
 Don't you know? 
 
 43 
 
How often I think of you, little man, 
 And try to measure the tiny span 
 
 That connects your heart and mine, 
 
 As I trace the little line 
 
 Of footsteps you have made to shine 
 
 On your way! 
 And how oft my soul is led 
 Into golden paths ahead 
 Where your little feet shall tread 
 
 Some sweet day! 
 
 May you be happy, my dear little boy, 
 Through childhood and youth — may many a joy 
 Greet your manly heart some day. 
 May your life be pure, and may 
 Truth and Beauty be the way 
 
 You shall tread ! 
 May your tender life be spared 
 Till life's blessings you have shared. 
 Then may Heaven be declared 
 Upon you head! 
 
 44 
 
THE BOOK AGENT. 
 
 I think I've seed a heep o' folks 
 
 With gab an' cheek an' jaw, 
 But yisterday a feller plum 
 
 Beet all I ever saw. 
 An' talk about yer gumpshun er 
 
 Yer gall er nerve er cheek — 
 My stars alive ! W'y that there man 
 
 Could almost talk a streak. 
 
 He come up to the wood-pile there 
 
 Where I'us a pickin on 
 A piece o' hickry scantlin that 
 
 I'd split out there fur John, 
 An' so I says "good-mornin'," as 
 
 I do to anyone 
 Who comes up when I'm busy, an' 
 
 With that, sir, he begun. 
 
 An', say, he was a caution! — he 
 
 Wuz almost skin an' bones. 
 An' poor an' bony lookin', most 
 
 As Uncle Enoch Jones. 
 But, nowthen, let me tell you, he 
 
 Could almost talk a toon 
 Fur, my, I guess he kep me there 
 
 'Til way up long tords noon. 
 
 An' law ! — them long fingers — w'y 
 
 He run 'em through that book 
 So plegged fast I think I must 
 
 A plum forgot to look 
 
 At what I wuz a buyin' then, 
 
 But anyhow he said 
 At that'n wuz the last'n an' 
 
 He didn't have a "red" 
 To git 'im any dinner er 
 
 To keep 'im over night, 
 An' so I thought to buy the thing 
 
 'Ud be a doin' right. 
 
 45 
 
Well now, I'll jis' be honest an' 
 
 To make a story short, 
 The feller's got my dollar, an' 
 
 I reckon that he'd ort. 
 Fur somehow that's my failin' when 
 
 I'm makin' ov a trade — 
 Tm most too easy satisfied 
 
 An' easy to persuade. 
 But you jis bet the next'n now 
 
 'At comes along with books 
 'III git 'is walkin' papers shore, 
 
 I don't keer how 'e looks. 
 If poor as "Job's ol' turkey." he 
 
 Can jis' skeedadle on 
 Fur when it comes to sellin' books 
 
 I'm agent now fur one. 
 
 You ast me what the book's about? 
 
 Well, now sir, I don't know— 
 I 'us bit so plegged bad ye see 
 
 I didn't darst to show 
 The thing to Hannar Jane a tall ^ 
 
 Cause she'd jis raise "ol' Ned." 
 An' so I sneaked off to the barn. 
 
 An' there behind the shed 
 I found a crack to poke 'er in 
 
 An' there I'll let 'er stay 
 Until some day when Hannar's gone, 
 
 Er on some rainy day, 
 I'll slip out there an' take 'er out 
 
 An' see jis what she is— 
 (I never b'lieve in doin' things 
 
 Like that in such a fizz). 
 
 But say now, looky here, my friend. 
 
 Don't mention this, an' say. 
 Some mornin' when you git a chance 
 
 You sneak across the way 
 A actin' like you's huntin' fur 
 
 A shoat, er say a cow— 
 
(Of course yer stock's not over here) 
 
 But then I'll wonder how 
 The fence got down, an' then I'll say, 
 
 "I guess we'd better look 
 About the shed — she might be there," 
 
 An' — you can see that book. 
 
 47 
 
THE NEIGHBOR BOYS. 
 
 Sometimes when I git to thinkin' 
 
 'Bout them good times, don't ye know 
 My ol' soul jis gits so happy 
 
 I can't stay here, so I go 
 Way back down in Indiany, 
 
 Whur the worl's plum full o' joys 
 Fur a feller when e's playin' 
 
 Down there with the neighbor boys. 
 
 Plegged if I can't purtny see 'em 
 Playin' hide-an-seek an' ball, 
 
 Skinnin' cats an' cetchin' lizards- 
 Say, but that jis beats 'em all! 
 
 Take a grass, ye know, an' loop 'em — 
 Great big rusty feller— Say! 
 
 Layin' on the fence a sunnin' — 
 D'ye ever cetch 'em that away? 
 
 Stars alive ! w'y me an' Enus 
 
 (He 'us Okes' boy, ye know) 
 Ust to sneak off through the orchard 
 
 So ol' "Major" couldn't go, 
 An' we'd cetch two great big fellers — 
 
 Bring 'em up there to the road — 
 Hitch 'em up with strings an' see then 
 
 Which could pull the biggest load. 
 
 Don't I wish I wuz back down there 
 
 Doin' like we ust to do — 
 Hullin' hick'ry-nuts an' walnuts, 
 
 Er a puttin' off there through 
 Hudson Ray's ol' woods a diggin' 
 
 Ginseng jis for 'bout a day- 
 Feller can jis think about it 
 
 'Til it seems plum that away. 
 
 48 
 
Sometimes when I git to musin', 
 
 Er a dreamin', I forgit 
 What I started out to tell ye, 
 
 Maby I'll git to it yit. 
 But ye know a feller's mem'ry 
 
 When she gits in runnin' trim 
 Gits to guglin' an' a bublin' 
 
 'Til she's full plum to the rim. 
 
 Yes, w'y what I meant to tell ye, 
 Anyhow before I quit, 
 
 Wuz the names ov all my playmates- 
 Think I recollect 'em yit. 
 
 You can't fool me 'tall on faces. 
 But somehow on names I do 
 
 Git mixed up an' can't remember 
 Alius when I'm wantin to. 
 
 Let me see now, there wuz Enus 
 
 (Recollect I mentioned him 
 When Fus tellin' bout them lizards). 
 
 Well, sir, he wuz alius slim. 
 An' as pore — you ort a seed 'im — 
 
 But right here I want to say 
 When it come to games an' workin' 
 
 Bet yer boots he's there to stay. 
 
 Well, sir, Enus wuz a caution — 
 
 W'y I've seed that feller climb 
 When the limbs 'ud be a crackin' — 
 
 I remember now one time 
 When we's all a gittin' walnuts, 
 
 Enus got out on a limb 
 An' the thing broke off, an' — goodness! 
 
 Like t' a been the last o' him ! 
 
 49 
 
But sir, don't you know that feller 
 
 Kinder stood an' rubbed 'is shin 
 Long enough to counted twenty 
 
 Nen went up that tree again! 
 W'y it peered like nothin' hurt 'im — 
 
 Guess if he'd be in a wreck 
 You 'ud see 'im out next mornin' 
 
 With a rag around 'is neck. 
 
 Onct when me an' him wuz fishin' — 
 
 Well I guess I'll haft to stop 
 Fur a feller's out there vvaitin' 
 
 Now a wantin' in the shop — 
 So you'll haft to stop some evenin', 
 
 Er some rainy day perhaps 
 Would be best, an' nen I'll tell ye 
 
 All about them other chaps. 
 
 50 
 
LETTIN' LOOSE. 
 
 Now I do not think its logic 
 
 Fur us all the time to be 
 A strainin' every fibre 
 
 Gittin' people to agree 
 That they'd ort to be lots better 
 
 Till we come to see the use, 
 That 'afore they can be better 
 
 They have got to let loose. 
 
 Now don't misunderstand me, 
 
 I believe in high ideals 
 That haven't been selected 
 
 By the way a feller feels, 
 An' I believe in puttin' forward 
 
 All the best things for our use, 
 But how can people choose 'em 
 
 When they won't let loose. 
 
 I think a resolution. 
 
 If its somethin' new and good. 
 An' went to make us better 
 
 An' to help the neighborhood; 
 Before we can adopt it, 
 
 Er can give it any use, 
 Will make us feel there's something 
 
 We had 'orter let loose. 
 
 I've just about concluded 
 
 That the worst that's in this life 
 Is not in hankerin' arter 
 
 Wealth and things that make us strife, 
 But it's kinder in the principle 
 
 Of huntin' good for use. 
 And with the bad we once have 
 
 Knowin' how to let loose. 
 
 51 
 
They's talk about conversion, 
 
 And the Lord a savin' souls, 
 An' I know the Lord can do it 
 
 Cause he made 'em an' controls 
 The savin', too, I reckon, 
 
 But I think He sees the use 
 Of makin' every feller 
 
 Know he's got to let loose. 
 
 Course the hope we have of heaven 
 
 Sure depends upon the grip 
 A feller's got on Jesus — 
 
 Er if he lets it slip — 
 But when it comes to holdin' 
 
 To the cross, it ain't no use 
 To think that we can do it 
 
 Till we let the devil loose. 
 
 It ain't so much the question 
 
 Of the place we see ahead, 
 Er why the Lord has done it; 
 
 But I kinder think instead 
 It's livin' every minute 
 
 For a little bigger use, 
 A pickin' up more good things 
 
 And a lettin' bad uns loose. 
 
 52 
 
WHEN I 'US A LITTLE SHAVER. 
 
 When I 'us a little bit of a shaver, 
 
 I guess about so high, 
 They said I wuz a captain. 
 
 But I couldn't see jes why. 
 Of course I 'us sometimes naughty like, 
 
 An' sometimes purty mean. 
 But I don't think I 'us meaner though, 
 
 'An other boys I've seen. 
 "Fur a boy amongst his playin' food 
 
 Must have a little flavor. 
 At least it 'us somewhat that a-way 
 
 When I 'us a little shaver. 
 
 When I 'us a little bit of a shaver. 
 
 Of course like other chaps, 
 I 'us alius doin' somethin' 'r 'nother 
 
 'T I ortent to perhaps — 
 A throwin' at birds, er makin' a fuss, 
 
 Er maby a skinnin' a cat, 
 An' most of the time a doin things 
 
 Fur the boys to be laughin' at. 
 Of course my mother didn't care 
 
 Fur the trouble 'at I gave 'er. 
 But Pap, you bet, 'ud settle up 
 
 When I 'us a little shaver. 
 
 When I 'us a little bit of a shaver 
 
 Pap alius told me I 
 Must mind the teacher all the time, 
 
 An' if I didn't, w'y — 
 Well, say fur instunce now Hke this — 
 
 Suppose I'd lick a kid 
 Fur bitten me er cussin me 
 
 Like Tommy Spartins did. 
 An' the teacher she 'ud jerk me up 
 
 An' show me special favor — 
 Pap wuz apt to do the same 
 
 When I 'us a little shaver. 
 
 53 
 
When I 'us a little bit of a shaver, 
 
 In spite of fun an' glee, 
 I had my ups an' downs ye know, 
 
 An' hours of misery — 
 Maby a stone-bruse on my heel, 
 
 Er a big ol' rusty spike, 
 Er a first-class yallar-jackets' nest — 
 
 Guess you've hurd of the like. 
 An' mother a sayin' in I'd just help 
 
 So much hard work I'd save 'er. 
 It wern't so much fun after all 
 
 When I 'us a little shaver. 
 
 When I 'us a little bit of a shaver, 
 
 Although I 'us full of fun, 
 I loved the birds an' hills an' trees 
 
 As well as anyone. 
 I loved to hunt the dandelion. 
 
 An' climb the sarvis tree; 
 I loved to find the sparrows' nest, 
 
 An' watch the humble-bee. 
 An' 'way down deep within my heart 
 
 Wuz love that ne'er could waver, 
 An' longings that could not be told 
 
 When I 'us a little shaver. 
 
 54 
 
NEWTRALITY. 
 
 I never knowcd a feller 
 
 'At would try to keep half-way 
 Between two sides an' argie, 
 
 An' jis' grit his teeth an' stay, 
 But what he come out worsted, 
 
 Er before the thing wuz through 
 He had to line up som'ers 
 
 When he wusant wantin' to. 
 
 Of course, I hain't a faultin' 
 
 Uv my neighbors fur their odds, 
 Fur stayin' on the medder 
 
 Stid o' walkin' on the clods, 
 But when it comes to choosin' 
 
 'Twix the sides of right an' wrong, 
 They hain't no middle to it 
 
 When it's tested good an' strong. 
 
 I don't much like the feller 
 
 'At jis' f oilers with the crowd, 
 An' won't start up a furry 
 
 'Cept where some one else has plow'd. 
 The people kinder run him, 
 
 Fur you'll alius see 'im wait 
 Before he'll make a motion 
 
 'Til some feller sets the gait. 
 
 But he's a plain-out credit; 
 
 Yes, a hundred times to one, 
 If looked at sorter careful 
 
 After all his work is done, 
 To the pesky newtral feller 
 
 'At won't foller, lead, ner stay, 
 An' wants to hide his meanness 
 
 By his keepin' jist half-way. 
 
 55 
 
I'd ruther see him running 
 
 Fur the woods with all his might, 
 'Caze the bullets kinder whistled 
 
 Closer 'n what he thought was right, 
 Than to see a feller settin' 
 
 Som'ers off a lookin' on, 
 An' not enough o' manhood 
 
 To enlist an' take a gun. 
 
 I know the Lord don't need him, 
 
 Fur the Lord hain't got no place 
 To put 'im in er keep 'im 
 
 When he's finished all his race. 
 'Caze they hain't but two eternals 
 
 Fur the folks the Lord has made. 
 An' they hain't no chums ner choices 
 
 In 'em, neither one, ner grade. 
 
 A medium that's happy 
 
 Is all good enough an' right. 
 When harmony is needed, 
 
 'Twixt extremes that seem to fight. 
 But a light shirt in the summer 
 
 An' a medium fer fall. 
 With a heavy en' fer winter. 
 
 Sure don't mean no shirt at all. 
 
 I think we'd better settle 
 
 As to jist which side we'll take, 
 
 While this ol' earth's a-standin', 
 An' before she starts to quake, 
 
 'Caze the Lord knows all about us, 
 An' if we don't take our choice 
 
 He'll haft to do it fer us. 
 
 An' without our vote er voice. 
 
 56 
 
OUT IN PIKE COUNTY. INDIANA. 
 
 I hadn't seed Susanar 
 
 Sence way long — let me see — 
 When wuz the Sasination, 
 
 Has it ben two year er three? 
 Well, anyhow last August 
 
 Susan kep a coaxin so 
 I told Pearline I reckoned 
 
 'At we'd try to fix and go. 
 
 Well, I couldn't blame Susanar 
 
 Fur she'd alius ben the pet 
 An' the baby of the fam'ly 
 
 I jest somehow plum forget 
 'At she's grown to be a woman. 
 
 Married off an' she and Ike 
 Doin' well, I guess, a livin 
 
 On a farm out here in Pike. 
 
 Doin' well, I guess, considerin' 
 
 Way the times is — course they've had 
 Some good luck this year I reckon, 
 
 Nen agin they've had some bad — 
 Long last spring in March er Aprile, 
 
 Think it wuz — their baby died. 
 Somehow ever sence Susanar 
 
 Seems like can't be satisfied. 
 
 Pore thing wuz so glad to see us. 
 
 Ike, he said we had to stay 
 Two weeks anyway an' visit. 
 
 Said he'd got in all his hay, 
 "An they haint no use in talkin' 
 
 Now," sez 'e, 'Vou'll stay right here 
 Tel you've had a good long visit 
 
 Bein's ye had to come so fur." 
 
 While we's out there all the teachers 
 
 Had a meetin' at Winslow — 
 Sort of an institoot, I reckon. 
 
 Ike, he put at me to go, 
 
 57 
 
Said he'd take a sack of taters 
 
 To the hotel there — nen we 
 'Ud go an' set an' look an' lisen 
 
 Bein's the lecturin wiiz free. 
 
 Course I never had much larnin, 
 
 Never had a chance ye know. 
 Fur they wern't much schools in my time, 
 
 When they wuz we couldn't go. 
 Alius somethin' needin doin', 
 
 So us youngsters had to root 
 Fur our livin' — nen in them days 
 
 Never hurd of an institoot. 
 
 Don't ye know I had no idy 
 
 How much larnin 'at it took 
 Now-a-days to git a feller 
 
 So's to teach a boy a book. 
 W'y they talked about persepshun, 
 
 Home envirmunt an' the like, 
 Mental growth an' sani — somethin' — 
 
 Bet they've got fine schools in Pike ! 
 
 W'y, pleg-on, they had a feller 
 
 From way out in Ohio, 
 Little bit of a puny shaver. 
 
 My ! but he's a smart un though. 
 Wore nose glasses — say, you orter 
 
 Hurd him lectur — I hurd one 
 'At he give about some writer. 
 
 Think he called him Tennyson. 
 
 Nen they had another feller 
 
 Frum way out — well I don't know — 
 Anyhow he taught 'em music, 
 
 He's a regular monkey show; 
 Curly headed — My! I reckon — 
 
 Made me think of Isrel Hess 
 When he said a piece that mornin' 
 
 'Fore they dismissed fur recess. 
 
 58 
 
Nen they had a right old feller, 
 Think he'd ben away out west — 
 
 Had a magic lantern with 'im, 
 Guess that must a ben the best — 
 
 Cause he'd had so much expurence, 
 Nen the old man seemed so nice, 
 
 Head plum bal', an nice gray whiskers- 
 Shuck hands with 'im onct er twist. 
 
 Well, the feller who wuz bossin, 
 
 Er a runnin' of the thing, 
 Wuz a caution — wisht you'd seed him. 
 
 When they all got up to sing — 
 Plum bal' headed — well, I reckon, 
 
 Round the edge they wuz a few 
 Stray light hairs and up on top, I 
 
 Think, perhaps, wuz one or two. 
 
 'Perd like I had seed the feller, 
 
 Any how so many times 
 He made me think of that old feller 
 
 'At we called "Old Father Grimes." 
 Best thing though I liked about 'im 
 
 Wuz the way he had his fun, 
 Gettin' jokes off on the fellers 
 
 'At wuz doin' the lecturun. 
 
 Teachers ! My ! Old Pike has got 'em, 
 
 Mighty good 'uns, too, I ekspect. 
 Ain't so monstrous ugly nuther 
 
 Think if I can rickolect. 
 More espesuly the wimen — 
 
 Course the boys they never do 
 Take much pains to fix I reckon — 
 
 Guess most everywhere's that's true. 
 
 Tell ye now, ef me an' Perlinie 
 
 Go agin to see Susan 
 Think T'll write before and axeni 
 
 Fur to find out, if they can, 
 When they'll have another meetin, 
 
 So's to leave the farm with Mike, 
 Nen I want to take it all in 
 
 Next time we go out in Pike. 
 
 59 
 
IT'S JIST WHAT'S IN IM. 
 
 It ain't so much a feller's clothes 
 
 It ain't so much as to what he knows 
 
 Er what he pays, er what he owes 
 
 Er what's agin 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 I b'lieve if it's in a man to do 
 What God 'as planned out fur 'im to 
 It ain't no use fur me ner you 
 
 To try to pin 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 If it's downright in a man to steal 
 It won't be very long till he'll 
 Do some devilment an' seal 
 
 The law agin' 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 Of course I know they's some who say 
 That more 'an likely it's the way 
 A feller's chances air — but they 
 
 Jist help begin 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 W'y I've seed horses long 'fore now 
 'At wouldn't pull a pound, an' how 
 You'd coax an' whop an' almost vow 
 
 You'd like to skin 'em — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 'Nen I've seed some pore ol' plug 
 Jist git right down an' pull an' tug 
 Until you'd purt'ny want to hug 
 
 Instead of gin 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 60 
 
I don't know, I sometimes think 
 When I see a man jist drink an' drink 
 An' keep it up until he'll sink 
 
 Too low to win 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 I may be wrong, but I'll tell you 
 When I'm a huntin' a man that's true 
 I want to look 'im through an' through 
 
 Before I chin 'im — 
 
 It's jist what's in 'im. 
 
 6i 
 
SOWIN' ON BUTTONS. 
 
 Sowin' on buttons is 
 
 Nothin' more 
 Than fixin' what 'us 
 
 Right before— 
 In other words it's 
 
 Gittin' back 
 To where the thing first 
 
 Flew the track. 
 
 Ye know they's lots o' 
 
 People who 
 Are jist that way in 
 
 What they do. 
 Instid o' grabbin' 
 
 'Fore they slip 
 They're alius patchin' 
 
 What they rip. 
 
 And when they're doin' 
 
 Jist their best 
 They'se workin' harder 'n 
 
 All the rest. 
 An' don't see why er- 
 
 How they caint 
 Be like their neighbors 
 
 When they ain't. 
 
 I think they's whole lots 
 
 Better use 
 In keepin' things frum 
 
 Bustin' loose. 
 Than workin' hard as 
 
 Ye can pelter 
 A fixin' somethin' 
 
 Out o' kelter. 
 
 62 
 
The Sewing Parson 
 
If we'd do more to 
 
 Fix things straight 
 We'd not be alkis 
 
 Breakin' gait 
 An' haft to work our 
 
 Daylights out 
 To get back where we 
 
 Lost the route. 
 
 A BOOK PRESENTED TO A LADY FRIEND. 
 
 A X'mas gift I 'us meant to be. 
 
 But some how, accidentally 
 
 Or otherwise, I don't just know 
 
 Exactly how it happened so, 
 
 But rather think a letter went 
 
 To where it wasn't to be sent 
 
 And some how got things mixed up so 
 
 I hardly knew just where to go. 
 
 But as the letter's now in line 
 
 I thought I'd come as a Valentine — 
 
 Yet. be that as it ma}', I'm here 
 
 With all the wishes of the year. 
 
 Of X'mas time, of sleigh and sled, 
 
 And all the good things done and said, 
 
 Of hopes and resolutions made. 
 
 And old ways broken — yes. and laid 
 
 Forsaken in a heap at last 
 
 With deeds and actions of the past — 
 
 But I must not forget to tell — 
 
 The one who wrapped me up so well, 
 
 Before he'd let me come today. 
 
 Made me promise that I'd say 
 
 A word or two for him. and so 
 
 He said, "Now when you go 
 
 You take my kindest wishes too, 
 
 And be a good book — now you do!" 
 
 63 
 
WON'T YOU BE ENLISTED? 
 
 A call for Christian soldiers! 
 
 Do you hear the sound? 
 Needed for the conflict, 
 
 Where will they be found? 
 Who will answer quickly, 
 
 With a manly cheer? 
 Won't you be enlisted 
 
 As a volunteer? 
 
 Chous — 
 
 A volunteer for Jesus, 
 
 A soldier true ; 
 Others have enlisted, 
 
 Won't you be, too. 
 Jesus is the captain, 
 
 He will never fear. 
 Won't you be enlisted 
 
 As a volunteer? 
 
 Jesus wants your manhood. 
 
 Your strength and power, 
 Wants you in his service 
 
 Every day and hour. 
 He will not forsake you; 
 
 He is ever near. 
 Won't you be enlisted 
 
 As a volunteer? 
 
 He wants you for he loves you 
 
 With a heart most kind, 
 That once was pierced and broken 
 
 For all mankind. 
 But now his voice is calling 
 
 In an accent clear. 
 Won't you be enlisted 
 
 As a volunteer? 
 
 64 
 
And when the war is over. 
 
 And the victory won ; 
 When the roll is called in Heaven 
 
 And we answer one b}- one, 
 He will crown us with his glory, 
 
 Mid the angel's music clear. 
 Won't you be enlisted 
 
 As a volunteer? 
 
 CLOUD OR SUNSHINE. 
 
 Every sky that glistens with the golden day 
 Meets with clouds of sorrow darkly o'er the way. 
 If we are the sunshine clouds will quickly flee 
 And the soul that met them will be light and free. 
 
 Chorus — 
 
 Are you cloud or sunshine in the world today? 
 Are you spreading darkness or a golden ray? 
 Has some heart been darkened by your cloud of sin? 
 Have you been the sunshine, helping others win? 
 
 Sunshine would be brighter for us all the day 
 If the clouds of darkness were all kept away. 
 Why not be the sunlight, filling hearts with cheer, 
 Driving far away the sorrow we meet here. 
 
 There are souls in darkness that might be made bright 
 If those who are God's children would but shed some light 
 There are hearts all shadowed o'er by sin and shame 
 Waiting for a sunbeam given in His name. 
 
 Let us then look upward for a golden gleam 
 Out of heaven's sunlight 'till our faces beam ; 
 Then with hearts of kindness let us make while here, 
 Lives of others brighter with our sunshine cheer. 
 
 65 
 
THE GOOD OL' "AIRLTNK" 
 
 I jist thought while Fus a settin' here 
 
 An' had nothin' else to do 
 I'd write Jim a letter, best I could, 
 
 Cause I kinder promised to, 
 An' tell 'im about the circumstance 
 
 Uv the farm sence he's ben 'way 
 Fur Jim wuz alius a right good boy — 
 
 But jist 'us I 'us a goin' to say — 
 
 I wern't born along no river 
 
 Like so many fellers boast, 
 Where the corn is all a taslin' 
 
 An' a sparklin' in the frost — 
 Dewberry vines in the mcdder, 
 
 'Simmon tree on the hill. 
 Cowslips an' the daises 
 
 A noddin' fit to kill- 
 But I'll tell ye what's the matter, 
 
 Nice as any river flowed, 
 Runnin' right a past my door, sir, 
 
 Is the good ol' airline road. 
 
 I remember when they built it 
 
 I 'us livin' on this farm 
 Most o' people then condemned it 
 
 ('Bout the time I broke my arm). 
 And they sed the people's taxes 
 
 Would git bigger every day. 
 An' it'd even scare the horses 
 
 'Til they'd ever one run 'way. 
 Lots uv work it took to build it 
 
 Through these hills an' hollers deep. 
 But they dug and scraped an' blasted 
 
 'Til they built er, don't you weep. 
 Had to make some cuts an' bridges. 
 
 Dig a tunnel, one or two. 
 An', of course, it cost like sixty 
 
 'Fore they got 'er put clean through. 
 
 66 
 
Some folks never like to hear 'em 
 
 Puff an' whistle by the door, 
 But I kespect they'd start to grumble 
 
 If they'd stop an' pass no more. 
 Course I never like to idle 
 
 All my time away — that's wrong, 
 But I alius stop an' watch 'er 
 
 When the passenchur goes along. 
 An' I'll tell ye there is somethin' 
 
 'Bout the train I love to sec, 
 An' about the river flowin' — 
 
 That's the way it'll alius be. 
 Menye a time I've run my best, sir, 
 
 Jist to git to see the train, 
 An' as old as I'm agittin', 
 
 Yisterday I did agin'. 
 
 I remember I wuz plowin' 
 
 When they fetched the letter home, 
 An' they said that Jess wuz dyin' 
 
 An' had rit fur me to come. 
 An' I dropped my plow an' started — 
 
 Tol' the chilern to onhitch, 
 An' I heard the train a roarin' 
 
 'Fore I'd hardly reached the switch — 
 I 'us jist in time to ketch 'er 
 
 As she went a rollin' out. 
 An' my heart wuz jist plum broken, 
 
 Yit my muscles did seem stout. 
 An' the dear ol' train soon took me 
 
 To the place where Jess wuz laid, 
 Just in time to reach the bed-side 
 
 'Fore my dearest son 'us ded. 
 When he spoke — his eyes all starin' — 
 
 Reached an' took me by the hand, 
 Said, sez-e, "Dear Pap, I'm goin' 
 
 On a train that's long an' grand." 
 
 67 
 
When I ax'ed 'im if to heaven 
 
 With a nod he shut his eyes, 
 Then the spirit which I prayed fur 
 
 Took it's flight into the skies. 
 
 Oh ! how often when I'm weary, 
 
 An' can hear the whistle blow, 
 Comes the thought of that sad journey 
 
 To my heart that's akin' so. 
 But to me the "Airline Railroad" 
 
 Is as dear as any stream 
 As the rattlin, runnin' engine 
 
 Passes like the swiftest dream, 
 An' as long as I can listen. 
 
 An' can hear the far-off roar, 
 I shall wait to hear the whistle 
 
 Of that train across the shore. 
 
 68 
 
KEEP IN SIGHT OF THE CROSS. 
 
 If you have burdens too heavy to bear, 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 If you want some one to help you them share, 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 
 Chorus — 
 
 Jesus is there with a heart that is true, 
 Anxious to help you whatever you do. 
 Hands once all pierced and bleeding for you, 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 
 If you have sins unforgiven today. 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 If you want Jesus to take them away, 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 
 If you would make of your failure success. 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 If your soul needs a true Savior to bless, 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 
 Does the world show you no pity or love, 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 If you would live for a mansion above, 
 
 Keep in sight of the cross. 
 
 69 
 
WHAT YOU DO FOR JESUS WILL BE GLORY BYE 
 AND BYE. 
 
 Does your heart grow heavy 
 
 With the task you have to bear? 
 Do you feel discouraged 
 
 With no answer to you prayer? 
 Don't forget that some one 
 
 Will remember when you try 
 What you do for Jesus 
 
 Will be glory bye and bye. 
 
 Every little kindness 
 
 We have done for Him while here, 
 Every smile of sunshine 
 
 That we've scattered anywhere, 
 Will be joys in heaven 
 
 There awaiting you and L 
 What you do for Jesus 
 
 Will be glory bye and bye. 
 
 Has your soul been burdened 
 
 For a lost one to regain? 
 Has your heart been aching? 
 
 Does your labor seem in vain? 
 No, the Master sent you 
 
 And He heard your earnest cry, 
 What you do for Jesus 
 
 Will be glory bye and bye. 
 
 Some day when our labors 
 
 Here are over, one by one, 
 We shall live forever 
 
 For the deeds that we have done. 
 Pain we've felt will vanish 
 
 When we see the city nigh, 
 What we do for Jesus 
 
 Will be glory bye and bye. 
 
 70 
 
GOD IS STILL CALLING YOU. 
 
 Though you may never have heard His voice, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 Though you have sought not to make Him your choice, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 If you have wandered in ways of despair, 
 Still in His heart is a tenderest care, 
 Blessings unnumbered that you may yet share, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 
 Years passing swiftly no answer has come, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 Some day He'll bid those He loves to come home, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 If you now turn from His mercy away 
 He will deny you in heaven some day. 
 Will you, oh brother, come now while you may, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 
 Long you have sought the rough pathway of sin, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 Do you not feel there is pardon within, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 Open your heart to His tenderest plea — 
 Sinner, that voice has been calling for thee, 
 Happy in heaven forever to be. 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 
 Will you not answer His pleading tonight? 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 Will you not enter the battle for right? 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 Satan will leave you if you will obey, 
 Jesus will take all your burden away. 
 Heaven will greet your glad soul some sweet day, 
 
 God is still calling you. 
 
 71 
 
DONT FORGET THAT JESUS LOVES YOU. 
 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you, 
 
 In the busy walk of life 
 When the weary hours of toil so crowd the way; 
 When the path is steep and rugged 
 
 And the burden seems so great, 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you every day. 
 
 Chorus — 
 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you. 
 
 Don't forget the tender heart 
 That bled for you and washed your sins away; 
 Don't forget that He is near you 
 
 With His bleeding hands and side, 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you every day. 
 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you 
 
 When the tempter bids you yield. 
 When the hosts of sin have met you in array; 
 Don't forget that Jesus met them 
 
 And will save you from them all, 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you every day. 
 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you 
 
 When afflictions press you hard. 
 When the hand of death is bidding you obey; 
 Just remember He is with you 
 
 And will lead you gently through, 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you every day. 
 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you. 
 
 Brother, in you sin and woe. 
 For He longs to cast your darkness all away; 
 Don't forget that you must meet Him 
 
 When the judgment day shall be. 
 Don't forget that Jesus loves you every day. 
 
 72