Rn oTf , H I ft)P5Try CoipglitN? COIVRIGHT DEFOSm TRAVEL ORDERS • PRESS ON The Note Book of a War Relief Worker BY Agnes Chalmers THE CRESCENT PUBLISHERS GRAND RAPIDS. MICHIGAN 1922 5 Copyright, 1922 BY AGNES CHALMERS MAR IOi9'^2 g)CU654900 CONTENTS Foreword 8 Press On 10 Travel Orders 11 To America's Peace Conference, France Comes With Nothing To Ask 12 Gethsemane Redeemed 13 The Remnant Shall Return 14 The Soldier's Little Baby Girl 15 Mary 16 The Chamber In The Wall 17 A Battle Royal 18 Christ's Beloved 20 A Bully Sweetheart . 21 A Little Child Shall Lead Them 23 A Word or Two of Sarcasm 24 I'm Just a Reporter Back From War 25 The World's Question: 26 The Conference's Reply: 27 This Army is a Queer Old Place 28 Feeding The Multitudes 30 The Word 30 All Through With Braggin' 31 A Few Thoughts on Home, Religion and Dis- armament 32 The Victor 34 There is No Lack 34 Salvaged 35 My Boy Came Back From France And Talked of God 36 rU Say So! 37 No Rank There 38 Under Age 39 My Family 40 The American Woman War Worker in France 41 I Come Over Here Last Winter 42 I Enlisted For My Sister 43 Is There a Funny Side to Everything in the Army? , 44 I Never Had Any Sister 49 When The Job Is Through 50 Primitive Christianity 51 Peace 51 How I Entertained an American Girl in Paris After the Armistice 52 With Authority 57 Give Audience 57 I Heard A "Y" Girl Singin' 58 A Soldier's Idea of Prayer 60 "No Thanks To Me" 61 Peace 62 Adjusted 63 Parlez-Vous Francais 64 "Who Is My Mother?" 65 The Truth Is Not Betrayed 65 The Peace of Stilled Appetites 65 Candy's Candy 66 A Hymn 67 Giving Commandments 67 After The War— A Vegetarian? 68 Stupid Habit 70 The Servants In My Home 70 A Debate Between a Sergeant and a Private 71 Repatriated 72 I Was Always a Little Backward 73 Rebuilt Cities of France and Belgium 74 The Workers of the World 74 My Christmas Present 75 The First Sight of the Old Place 78 A Home-Bound Troop Ship 79 One Day of Gratitude 80 I Hain't Never Goin' Back to the Same, Old Conventions 81 A Prayer 84 I Lost My Bible At Chateau-Thierry 85 Freeing German Prisoners 90 I'm Glad She's a Girl 91 England's Pledge 93 True Understanding Friends 94 I Drove a Soldier Home One Day 95 I Saw The Gold Star Mothers 96 The Conversion of Miss Jones, Maiden Lady 98 Hospitality 99 Home and Service -. . 99 "Be Patient With Me," said Brother __. 100 My Mother 102 I Was In Paris When The Armistice Was Signed- 103 Joy and Service 104 Why Should I Not? 105 "Big Bertha" 106 M. P.'s Everywhere 107 A Soldier's Vision of True Reconstruction 108 Service of Supply 112 A Mighty Man 113 The British and Brother 114 Living Geography 115 My Brother Sent a String of Beads To Me 116 Give Me a Home 117 Move On 117 Supply 117 My Brother Went Out to the Soldiers* Home 118 The Millionaire's Son 120 The Battles of Paris 121 The Tabernacle of God 123 Blessings 123 I Had a Sister in the War 124 Have You Anything To Tell Me? 125 Ypres 126 My Father Paid The Awful, Awful Price! 128 No Response 129 My Brother Wrote He Was In Paris ^_ 130 La Libre Belgique 131 My Son Sent Me a Present 132 My Brother Brought a Wife Back 133 The Wound Stripe 134 I Like My Brother's New Wife 135 The Red Chevron 136 A Rest 136 Promoted 137 Would Sharing Be Fair? 138 Thank God For Debts 138 One Rhine Fort Destroyed 139 Our Great Teacher's Humanity 140 Losing Nothing 140 Hot Rations 141 There is a Woman Living on Our Street 142 The Change in Father 143 The Sheets Were Great 144 Mac Was My Partner 145 Rest 150 I Want You To Know My Son 151 I Wasn't at Chateau-Thierry 153 I Have a Friend 154 The World's Request for Peace 154 My Son Came Home Last Week 155 Dad's All Through With France 156 Chickory— That is Trouble 157 Each Day Press On 157 I Had a Piece of White Bread 158 Guidance 159 I Lived Two Days in Paris on Twenty-eight : Francs . 159 I Somehow Missed the Cows Most 160 Peace 161 A Friend 161 My Son is Very Human 162 A Seventy-Five 163 Stephen and the World 164 The Glorious Age of Disagreement 165 Nobody Loves a Casual 167 Ireland's Part in the War 168 Mother and Dad 169 Father's Much, Much Kinder 172 Ten Days at Brest 174 Brother— The New Watch on the Rhine 176 Home 178 TO THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER and ALL LOVERS OF TRUE PEACE Many of the verses in this book are based upon verbatim interviews with the common soldier in The Great War. They are written in the fighting man's own language which may be characterized as reverent rather than pious, intelligent rather than learned, and human rather than divine. The pages of the everyday history of the physical conflict of No Man's Land, entitled. Travel Orders, are dedicated to the Unknown Soldier. The re- maining poems bearing the page title. Press On, are addressed gratefully to the unknown soldiers or warring Michaels of today who are not only disarming from all racial preju- dices, but are likewise awakening from the fear of and resistance to God's government of man under His divine law and are thus finding heaven and peace on earth. Foreword AFTEK the signing of the Armistice, the L war workers stationed with the Ameri- can Army in France did everj^hing possible to entertain and sustain the soldiers who were daily hoping to receive travel orders home- ward. Entertainers were always on the lookout for poetry for the American Expe- ditionary Forces. Back here in America we question: Why poetry? Over there in France we answered: The boys are wanting poetry. Surely in this age none but the brave dare to ask and search for poetry. The Sunday before Christmas, 1918, a brave entertainer made this statement to a war worker: "The boys are begging for poetry. I have looked everywhere in Paris and can find nothing suitable. I dread returning to Coblenz with- out more poetry. Can you help me find some?" In France, the makers of doughnuts made doughnuts and the makers of poetry made poetry. In each case, the doughnut and poem were respected because they fed the boys. Aside from this, they had no honor. Thus one war worker became a maker of rhymes simply because the boys were demanding rhythm. The doughboy exemplified in his experience the words of Rupert Brooke who is quoted by his friend and biographer, Mr. Marsh, as saying: "There are only three things in the world, one is to read poetry, another is to write poetry, and the best of all is to live poetry." In France, the American Expeditionary Forces and the war workers lived every phase of poetry and thus it was that the doughnut maker lived or made "batches" of doughnuts by day while the war worker lived or made "batches" of poetry by night. Everywhere in France and with the Army of Occupation, this work was done for one purpose — ^to make the way easier for the manly boys who were brave enough to fight, and ask for poetry, those same boys who, after the Armistice, waited, watched and prayed for Travel Orders, which would enable them to return to civil life and Press On toward the home of perpetual peace. PRESS ON PRESS ON Today is filled with everything you need, To lift you up and fit you to learn love Then give yourself, your all, — ^this is, indeed. The highest gift, — all earthly gifts above. Give all, yea, all of self, dear, waiting World, Rejecting each temptation e'en of war Or hate or wrong or sin or appetite. Temptation loses pow'r. It is no more Before Love's earnest pray'r, "Let there be light." Press on, dear World, until you learn the might Of God's true government and peace on earth. Press On! 10 TRAVEL ORDERS TRAVEL ORDERS Travel orders ! Such is the game Of life. They're really just the same In civil life as in the fight, — Travel orders. Somehow the might Of travel orders no one can change. Travel orders! It's passing strange How a whole world moves on every day Under travel orders. Eternally They come at morning, come at noon. And come at night, — ^not an hour too soon,- Travel Orders! 11 PRESS ON TO AMERICA'S PEACE CONFERENCE, FRANCE COMES WITH NOTHING TO ASK "We shall listen rather more than talk. We have our opinion to express and sugg-estions to make, but we have no sort of purpose to ask anything for France. France comes to the con- ference asking for nothing, soliciting nothing and has in the background no things to be obtained for herself." — Premier Briand of France. France comes to ask nothing of anyone Save peace for all mankind. God's will is done, And Love reigns over all when everywhere Men go to ask nothing for self. God's care Is all-sufficient. France, through bitter woe, Thy lesson hath been learned. Now, men may go As thou, dear France, hath taught them, giv- ing good While asking all for earth's blest brotherhood And naught for self. Blest France, thy cities, torn And wasted by war's ravages, are born Again, baptised with waters, pure, of Life. In asking naught for self, all sin and strife Are ended and men press forever on To heaven on earth, — ^then all earth's wars are won And done forever more. Dear friends, this all must know In asking naught for self, each one may go To heaven here and now. Earth's wrong and woe Shall flee away if always everyone Remembers well to let God's will be done While asking naught for self. 12 TRAVEL ORDERS GETHSEMANE REDEEMED (A colonel's tribute to the American soldiers at the Second Battle of the Mame) The men who stood on the river bank On that grave night last July, The world may well rise up and thank As the centuries pass by. They had naught to lose, They had naught to choose But to stand alert and wait. The men who watched on the river bank Came not one hour too late. The men who watched on the Marne and prayed With their guns that wondrous night Redeemed Gethsemane. They weighed A world in the scale of right. They had naught to lose, They had naught to choose But to slumber not and wait. The men who watched on the river bank Slept not one hour too late. The men who stood and held the foe When the tide of war swept high Had nothing to claim their own and so They could answer the world's last cry. They had naught to lose, They had naught to choose But to open fire and wait. They watched Gethsemane's river bank With Love e'er it was too late. 18 PRESS ON THE REMNANT SHALL RETURN "The remnant shall return, even the rem- nant of Jacob, unto the mighty God. "For though my people Israel be as the sand of the sea, yet a remnant of them shall return: the consumption decreed shall over- flow with righteousness." — isaiah 10:21.22. The remnant shall return. They must return To law, to order and to "Peace on earth." For righteous peace, the remnant shall yearn. The remnant shall return and find true worth In God's own government. 14 TRAVEL ORDERS THE SOLDIER'S LITTLE BABY GIRL I left a littlG; teenty, weenty, baby girl back home, A-creepin' and a-cooin' but she couldn't stand alone, And how I often wonder if she'll be a meetin' me At the gate, and I wonder if she'll be a greetin' me, And callin' out : "Hey, Daddy, why you comin' home so late ?" My wife don't tell me when she writes how much the youngster grows. She thinks it makes me lonesome-like and maybe, too, she knows ! She writes of housework, knittin' and church and women's clothes. My wife is self-supportin'. She's so smart and quick and sweet. She sews for other ladies, dressin' them all nice and neat, So I did not ask exemption and I do not ask it yet. But I somehow hope the Baby won't grow up and then forget How to coo and creep and cuddle in my arms when I get home. Still, I will not be real sorry if the Kid can walk alone 16 TRAVEL ORDERS For I'm somehow lookin' for her at the gate a-meetin' me, A-runnin' and a-shoutin' when she comes a-greetin' me. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. MARY "Mary," I say just this one word Out loud, not so that it's ever heard. There isn't a soldier here Whose name is Mary. **Mary, dear," , . I say, "Mary" when no one can hear. Way out in No Man's Land, Pitch dark nights on sentry guard, I just reach out for her hand. "Mary," the name keeps faithful ward Over hellish doubt and fear. Mary's my wife. She can hear ! Her sleeping always was light, I'm thinking she prays through the night. "Mary, Mary, my dear." Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 16 PRESS ON THE CHAMBER IN THE WALL In every home there is a simple place, A room with table, bed and restful chair, — All now prepared just for the loving grace Of some true man of God. Elisha's care For that dear son of her, the Shunammite, Hath builded well a chamber in the wall In every home on earth. Nor day, nor night, No door shall e'er be closed to anyone. Each home is built for prayer. God's will is done. Love's simple, restful chamber in the wall, A place of prayer, is thine, thou man of God. Thou art then sent to raise the stupid dead From owning anything. Earth's brotherhood Must learn that God possesses all. Go, tell To everyone this message: "It is well." 17 TRAVEL ORDERS A BATTLE ROYAL I got a letter from my home place, Sayin' my girl had got married on me. They sent the chppin' and I guess my face When I read it was a sight to see. I'd never thought she would do that thing, An' how I hated her! My suffering Was mostly hate, so sez I : "Gee whiz ! I hain't no business to be hatin' Liz If she did get married on me." The next day my Christmas box was brung, My nine by a four by a three. I felt like a kid and I danced and sung. If my girl had got married on me. When I opened the box it was corkin', too, — Candies, gum, gloves, tobacco. Can you Beat it? Liz, herself, had sent a can Of tobacco long ago, before she ran Off and got married on me. I looked that can in the face. Not mad At all was I feelin', but sez I: "You've made me a slave, and I'm downright glad I couldn't smoke you either if I try. I hain't your slave no longer," f er says I : "O gee, Wouldn't smoke this old tobacco if it be The last on earth. It was sent, I see, By the girl who got married on me." 18 TRAVEL ORDERS Then I give all my tobacco away, An' the pipes I thought I'd always keep. I'd lay awake at night and think and say In leavin' home I knowed that God could keep Everybody safe. I used to ask Him, too, To be specially watchful and dear To the girl I left, keep her lovin', true, Befriend her, too, while I was over here. I figured mebby God made that match. Done all the introducin' of them two. Layin' in my bunk, I'd think and scratch My head until there wan't a thing to do When the whistles blew but git up. I see She's all right! We're friends! We'll have to be! The girl who got married on me. Paris, France, December 26, 1919. i» PRESS ON CHRIST'S BELOVED The Master loved the best the ones who met The human need and thus it was they said He dined with sinners. I must not forget The Master raised the thoughtless from the dead And loved the best the ones who met the need That should be met. Dear God, an open door Of human kindness, but the smallest seed, A well prepared repast, then, evermore Will make me his beloved one. 'Tis much In heaven to have given but a touch Of human kindness here on earth today; Then must I well remember on life's way To heaven to speak a kindly word of cheer. A smile makes his beloved one even here. 20 TRAVEL ORDERS A BULLY SWEETHEART I've got a bully sweetheart over there, Back home in good old, true old U. S. A. I'll say she's treated me right on the square Since I have been away. She hasn't said : "I wish that you were here," Or, *'I am missing you. The time seems long." She hasn't written once of doubt or fear Or loss or war or wrong. I've got a bully sweetheart over there, Back there in good old, true old U. S. A. I'll say she's treated me right on the square Since I have been away. I've got a bully sweetheart, that I know. She seems forever like a chum of mine, A brother or a father or a friend, A mother often, too, this girl of mine, A pal to have and lend. She never once has written of a tear. An ache, a pain, a loss, a cloud, a fear Since I have been away. This sweetheart girl of mine in U. S. A. I've got a bully sweetheart over there. Back there in good old, true old U. S. A. I'll say she's treated me right on the square Since I have been away. 21 TRAVEL ORDERS I've got a bully sweetheart over there, She writes just like the pals who fight with me, And had I not this lock of auburn hair, I couldn't even see Or dream about her hands so soft and white. Her blue eyes piercing ever through the night Of war's eternity. I've got a sweetheart whose one happy song Is: "Dear, it has not ever once seemed long Since you have been away. I love you for your work for U. S. A." Paris, France, December 23, 1918. PRESS ON A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM A little child shall lead them everywhere, All creatures of this earth. Isaiah's word Hath healed all nations of the world of care; It is Truth's message now forever heard And leading all from war to peace and rest. A little child shall lead them — Truth now flings This challenge to the hosts of war: "Ye know A little child shall lead men where they go." 23 TRAVEL ORDERS A WORD OR TWO OF SARCASM I don't give a flip about home-life. I never ate mince pie in all my life ; Bread and beef -stew Is all — ^this is true, I ever had to eat at home. My wife Never made cookies or cake or doughnuts in all her life. I don't give a whoop about anything in U. S. A. I never slept on anything over there but hay. I never had a chair, A comb or a pair Of socks — it's true, not over there. I don't give a whoop about anything in U. S. A. I wouldn't give a cent about money back there In America. Here it lasts longer. It's fair To each Frenchman to say That he always says : "Nay" To offers of pourboires, — it's true, everyday. I wouldn't give a cent about anything back there. I wouldn't take anjiihing and go without The baths I have here. There isn't a doubt That no one ever saw a bath-tub or took a swim Back in America. No, by Jim — 24 TRAVEL ORDERS Miney. There hain't mince pies, cookies, doughnuts, candy or bed Or money or bath-tub back there. Why should I be led From this Army where Wondrous comfort is mine? The Army and France fer me every time — The Army and France is treatin' me fine! Paris, France, December 23, 1918. I'M JUST A REPORTER BACK FROM WAR Fm just a reporter back from war But I'll never leave Mother any more. I've a small type-writer. I'm sure that I Can pound out a living. At least, I'll try To earn one in that town where she Lives, and you can't be blaming me! I don't care much for money. No ! Francs melted in France like snow, you know ; And, anyway, that money seemed Like a fancy wrapper. No one dreamed Of saving it there, and so, I'll say, I'll write at home. I'll be glad to stay Where I can kiss her a fond, good-night When I leave each evening for town. It's right, I'll work at home and I'll never stir Away again from the sight of her. My Mother. 26 PRESS ON THE WORLD'S QUESTION: I wait today without the temple's gate Which is called Beautiful? I ask an alms, An alms of walking straight from dawn till late At eventide with gladsome hymns and psalms Ever upon my lips. Here, at thy gate I beg, The World, lame even from my birth With love of money and with pride of pow'r. I pray thee from thy table give me worth Of righteous government that I, this hour. May leap and praise the living God. Be- hold, My weakened bones and feet would rise and walk. Yea, I would rise and leap and run and talk Ever of God's true law. 26 PRESS ON THE CONFERENCE'S REPLY: We have no gold, nor silver, e'en, have we, Hence may you rise this moment. World, and praise God's law. In name of Christ, we make you free From human warfare. For God's mighty ways Of government, give thanks eternally. This is your need — to watch and work and pray For no more gold for warfare nor for bribes Of pow'r's balance. All is in God's hand. Return, ye Israel's tribes To heaven's law. That moment sprang up, strong, and well, and free, The World, leaping and praising God for all. The World arose that moment well and strong. Leaping and praising God with joyous song For Love's true government. 27 TRAVEL ORDERS THIS ARMY IS A QUEER OLD PLACE This Army is a queer old place, It's stale and rummy, too. It hain't refined. It has no grace Of manners. Old beef -stew Slapped down at mess most every day And rotten coffee, too! This Army is a queer old place. It's stale and rummy, too. And yet for every horrid thing I love this Army life. To chew beef without suffering Or having any strife Is quite a little stunt each day, I'm tellin' this to you. I'm proud of myself, I would say And that is something, too. This Army is a queer old place. It's rummy through and through. This Army is a queer old freak And, yet, I've lots of pride Because I didn't make a sneak And try my best to hide Behind a woman's skirt. By gee, I'm glad I got the fightin' bee, Glad for the Army, too. This Army is a queer old place. It's rummy through and through. 28 TRAVEL ORDERS This Army is the queerest dope That ever dopester doped. You don't dare even once to hope Or to have ever hoped. You let the world move on and you Move when the Army's moving you. It's rummy through and through. And yet for all its near-fool ways I wouldn't once, by gad, Have stayed at home through all these days With Wifie, Maw or Dad. Not me — I'll stick right where I be Without a hope or care, Until the Army's moving me From France to home, back there. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 29 PRESS ON FEEDING THE MULTITUDES (To the Disarmament Conference in America) The multitudes are fed again today, The Tribes of Israel from whence they come. Dear God, I thank Thee for the wondrous way Thou hast in leading all Thy children home. THE WORD "In the beginning was the Word," we learn Within the Scriptures — just the Word, no more. As followers of Christ, we truly yearn To have naught else, no sin, no death, no w^ar. "In the beginning was the Word." Our prayer For nothing else is answered here, today. All fear and death and war have passed awaj^ "In the beginning was the Word." so TRAVEL ORDERS ALL THROUGH WITH BRAGGIN* When I enlisted, I was all through with braggin*. Never agin fer me! My wife is a Jonah on naggin' While I am as kind as can be. When I enlisted, I was all through with brag- gin'. When I enlisted, I was all through with brag- gin' — Never agin fer me ! At Chateau-Thierry, the whole blamed Army was laggin' Behind except Pershing and me. How do I know ? Well, couldn't I see ? When I enlisted, I was all through with braggin'. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 81 TRAVEL ORDERS A FEW THOUGHTS ON HOME, RELIGION AND DISARMAMENT The fellers all are askin': "Kin ye tell me when ye be A-goin* home, you guys there ? Cannot prove a thing by me." I say nothing, whatsoever, since I hain't a thing to say Except that I don't know at all. Believe me, anyway. We have fixed it fer Americans fer all the time to come. We come here and got acquainted and now v/eVe got to call it home. I was studjdn' some history, one day, I think, last fall. An' I seen where we left Europe, that we wa'n't content at all, That we longed fer a religion of our own and so we got Up and dusted fer America. I'll say, you'll likely not Believe me if I tell you that salvation might have been Worked out for all the world if America had seen It could have had religion where'er it was. By gee. When they ask me: "Be ye goin' home?" I hain't no answer. See? We fixed it fer Americans fer all the time to come. We come here and got acquainted and now we've got to call it home. 82 TRAVEL ORDERS I am a good American and so I always claim We come acrost and won the war. It's true, though, jest the same That Belgium played upon the stage a role no one would choose Fer bein' soft, and England, too, could claim none could refuse To give her all the credit, and France could say: **By gee. The freedom of a bloomin' world has sure been earned by me." Old Italy could rise up and say her Mountain men Had done wonders fer a world. But, mebby, too, agen, The winnin' of the war want an awful sight to do. The guy who hain't a slacker when the fightin' job is through Is the one who draws the medals of a world. You're askin': "Say, When you goin' home?" By ginger! Well, I hope it's right away. We fixed it fer Americans fer all the time to come. We come here and got acquainted and now we've got to call it home. 88 PRESS ON THE VICTOR The hosts of heav'n never ceased to fight During those years of warfare, hence the might Of Truth prevailed. This hour, the Christ walks o'er the surging waves Of a world's hatred; yea, Truth comes and saves An entire world. THERE IS NO LACK There is no lack, at all. I journey on And merely have to watch and sing and pray And thank God ever for all good today. There never is a lack. His will is done. 84 TRAVEL ORDERS SALVAGED Someone stole my raincoat from me, — Salvaged it, right off the bat. Never brought it back. By Jimminie, Tell me, what you know of that? I was awful proud to get it. Private's proud of anything. Hain't 'nother one. Aw, f ergit it. Cheer up, holler, shout and sing! Somehow, someway, I am sayin' That the guy who has my coat Isn't doin' any pray in', An' he's sorter got my goat. Still, I hope he kinder likes it. An' I hope it keeps him hot. An' I hope f er years he hikes it 'Round in Germany. 0, rot, I don't like revenge and hatin' ! Mebby he has stood in line. An' he grew so sick o' waitin' An' he figgered mine and thine Wasn't much to ever reckon In this Army life. Oh, gee! When I reach heav'n's gates, I reckon. He'll be beckonin' to me, An' I'll know him by his figger. An' his raincoat. Won't it be Great to see him? I be jigger! Jest as like as not he is Right in heav'n when I git there 86 TRAVEL ORDERS Teachin' there's no mine ner his, An' I sure hope to fergit there All my grief and suffering Fer my lost coat. Aw, fergit it. Cheer up, holler, shout and sing! Paris, France, December 25, 1919. MY BOY CAME BACK FROM FRANCE AND TALKED OF GOD My Boy came back from France and talked of God most every day. And yet he sang and danced around. I thought, perhaps, he may Have lost his mind like many did, so many over there. With shell shock. I asked him why he talked of God and danced and sang and laughed The very minute after. He joked and clogged and chaffed, And talked of God together. It wasn't de- cent. No ! He said: ''Why, Mother, over there God was your pal, and so You laughed and sang, and danced with Him in battle day or night." Perhaps my son ain't shell-shocked. His re- ligion may be right 36 TRAVEL ORDERS I'LL SAY SO! I'll say Paris isn't the worst spot, It's as fair as any I've saw. You kin be good there or you kin be not; It's the same home with Mother and Paw. It's all sort-o up to the f ell-o, If he's walkin' crooked or straight, And while Paris isn't just hell-o. It hain't nuther the Pearly Gate. I was walkin' in Paris and thinkin' Of home, — it was late last July. A French girl come 'long, she was blinkin' An' winkin' and blinkin' her eye. She stops and says : "Venez, oui, venez Avec moi, 0, mon tres cher Monsieur." One French word I know is called, ''Allez," And I used it without any fear. I looked in her eye and I saw there A Ion gin' fer heaven and rest. I said to myself: 'It is not fair To jedge her. I'll be thinkin' my best." I tried to explain all in motion What I learnt jest the one time I went To Sunday School. I had a notion That she somehow could tell what I meant. We stood there just like children hast-to, Watchin' windows with diamonds ablaze. I'll say if you like, if I dast-to That Paris is not a bad place. And after a-while, all a-smilin' 37 TRAVEL ORDERS Without me, she walked down the street. I'll say it without any guilin', She was honest and simple and sweet. Paris, France, Christmas Eve, 1918. NO RANK THERE I went to the Press School over there In Chaumont, G. H. Q. There wasn't a shade of rank. That's where I scored! This thing is true, I made the most of everything In that school. Generals would give Talks on who won the war and, say, the ring Of my voice will forever live. "Will you tell me. General," I would say. In an off-hand, easy sort-o-way What you think of So and So?" The question was nothing but I had To hear from a General all he'd know And to tell the truth, too, I was glad To stand right up without any rank, I, a Buck Private, and say: "Will you. General, tell me this? — I see! Oh, thank You for the explanation now. Please do Tell me of this. Thank you! I am done." To tell you the truth, it was great fun To talk without any rank or show To a General, I'll have you know, On "Who Won the War." 38 PRESS ON UNDER-AGE I had a little, teenty, woolly sheep, I used to feed each day, A woolly lamb I used to love and keep And pet. And would you say I would not make a soldier 'cause I had To feed this lamb warm milk? My, I am glad I had this woolly lamb ! My father said to me: "See here, my lad So you would march away With soldiers ? Just a baby at your play ! The only lie," he said, **you ever told Was to get in the Army. You were bold," He scolded, — yet he pressed so soft my arm, And said: "My boy, you will be kept from harm. There is another Lamb to guard and keep Love's watch o'er you, e'en though, my lad, you sleep In No Man's Land." My father never was Religious, yet he gave all for a cause. His son, — the only one he had to give. I'm glad for him I fought unharmed and live. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 89 TRAVEL ORDERS MY FAMILY Say, fellows, it's sort of uncanny, This blooming old Army life. There's a fellow who looks like Granny, Another looks like my wife. There's a boy with the smile of Mother, A sergeant who looks like Paw, And still there's a private, another. Who resembles my brother-in-law. I saw 'em standin' and talkin' At mess. It was strange as could be. *'Am I dreamin' ?" I asked. "Am I walkin' And seein' ?" I couldn't quite see. 'Am I home again?" I am askin' "Or am I dreamin', my lad?" At least, in their smiles I am baskin', My family, my all that I had. I'm lovin' you, fellows, and prayin' To be worthy to have you love me. I'm lovin' you, buddies, and sayin' That you've helped me to be what I be. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 40 PRESS ON THE AMERICAN WOMAN WAR WORKER IN FRANCE Tve had a good time, fellows, Right here in France at last. You'll be jealous, all you buddies, And you'll say I've put it past You. Say ! I guess you sure will care When I say I saw a woman With the very eyes and hair Of my mother. Yep, I saw her, Talked with her an hour, too. A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N, just like my mother, My, I'm glad what's real is true! Say, she really spoke like mother, Gentle-like, a trifle slow. Grasped my well hand, tried to smother Back a tear. I didn't know But she really was another Angel just like mother is, — Grey hair, blue eyes, yep, I'd ruther See her natural like this. Just a woman without powder, Without paint or lashes black. A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N, you cannot crowd her Off the map since she'll come back. Gee ! I thought as I was talkin' With her. My ! But you are real. Still I kept right on a-walkin' Never sayin' how I feel. She was just so real like mother. Hair all greyish, eyes deep blue. Boys, I'm glad there is another Mother here to watch us, too. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 41 TRAVEL ORDERS I COME OVER HERE LAST WINTER I come over here last winter, Most a year I've been in France, And I just couldn't beginter Tell you if I had a chance How I like the girls back yonder In the good old U. S. A. And now is it any wonder That I like 'em, answer, hey ? I like girls proud, up and comin' Like my younger Sis back there. She hain't ever out a-drummin' Beaux up, never gives a care If there's anyone that's thinkin' She is pert, an' young and sweet. No, you bet, she's never blinkin' At the fellers on the street. 'Course I hain't a criticisin' Any lady here in France, And I hain't a-even sizin' Them — I'm givin' them a chance. Not f er me, oh, no, not ever. I'll go back to U. S. A., And I'll find a girl like Sister, Independent, every day! If she wants to vote, I'll never Lay a straw across her way But she'll walk the streets, by ginger, Back in good old U. S. A. And she won't hang back and linger 42 TRAVEL ORDERS 'Round some feller loafin' nigh. Yep, I'll find a girl like Sister An' we'll marry bye-an'-bye. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. I ENLISTED FOR MY SISTER I enlisted for my sister. She was proud as she could be To have me in the Army, — knittin', writin' on to me. My, I thought how she would rather Have a brother here in France. Sure it was for Maw and Father But I somehow took a chance Of her sayin' at her parties : "Girls, my brother's over there." I enlisted most for sister, 'Cause I thought that it was fair. After I'd been in the Army Most a year, or maybe more, I was in the front line trenches. Where I hadn't been before. I passed many a town and city Where the sisters all had gone And my heart was filled with pity. Just as if they'd been my own. So when life seems mighty lonely over here I pause and say: "I enlisted for my sister and I'm mighty glad to stay." 48 TRAVEL ORDERS IS THERE A FUNNY SIDE TO EVERY- THING IN THE ARMY? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Someone stole from my trunks and from me Everything I owned, — ^not everything. When I opened one trunk up I see All that was left, — an old shoe-string. I laffed and laffed and said I: "I'll be switched!" Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I had two trunks, and the second one Contained the very best things I had. "Gee," sez I, "I know that I'll be done All up and that I'll be bloomin' mad If those things is stole." I opened that ; A sheet of paper was lyin' flat On the bottom, enough to be writin' you. Dear Army, and askin' fer clothes all new. Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I was flyin' and I got lost one day From my squadron, and, say, the rotten way Those German flyers beat me down. And shot my engine! I felt a clown, A-circlin' and whizzin' and beatin' the air. 44 TRAVEL ORDERS I landed a prisoner over there. Is there a funny side to everything in the Army ? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I didn't stay long on the German side When I thought I'd take a walk, not ride, To the Border nights. With a sack of food. And rain a-beatin', I hoofed 'er good At night, and, at mornin' I'd rock and sway Jes' to get warm so as to sleep that day. Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I got to the border, ready to cross, And stepped on a briar bush. My loss Through that cracklin' bush seemed queer, I'll tell, So I hiked 'er back to a prison cell With a German sentry keepin' me Straighter than anyone orter be. Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I sat in that cell and I wanted to read. The fellers slipped all the food I'd need But I dasn't talk and I dasn't look. I wanted, oh, how I wanted a book. Them German guides said I could sing 45 TRAVEL ORDERS The hymn of hate and I guess the ring Of my lonely voice sounded good, so then, I sang with a dirge air: **Bring, my men To me a book. Oh, bring, my men, oh bring A book to ease, to ease, to ease my suff-ferr- ing." Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I got to Allery f eelin' fine, Was chucked in a hospital. O'er the Rhine, I dwelt in a prison. I'm tellin' you, A hospital is some prison, too. I was fat as butter on Red Cross food, A-feelin' downright bully and good. Is there a funny side to ever3rthing in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I come to Paris. The flu struck me. An' I looked like a funny star should be. The doctors said I would have to die. It was Christmas momin', and I said : "Why, It's funny to die so far away From my home and friends on Christmas day." Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Jest as old man Death came stalkin' in, 46 TRAVEL ORDERS I said: "Old feller, it is a sin To give you this work on Christmas mom, The day that the dear Christ-child was bom." I said : **Death, take one day's leave and see The Red Cross and Y. M. Christmas tree. Never mind thinkin' I'm needin' you If I am a-dyin' of Spanish flu." Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Death hung on like an M. P. I said, As I riz and set right up in bed; "Haw, haw, hee, hee, hain't it funny, say, A Yank dyin' in France on Christmas day Of Spanish flu? Why not in Spain? Why pick on France?" — an' I yelled again. Death sez, sez he : "You're insultin' me ! I'm as dignified as Death should be." Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Still Death hung around with a doubtful stare While I was sittin' and laffin' there. "This time," sez I, sez I to me: "The funniest death that could ever be Is to die in France on Christmas day Of Spanish flu and to pave the way For a real French funeral! Hully gee, A real French funeral f er me !" 47 TRAVEL ORDERS Is there a funny side to everything in the Army ? Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? I could see them Frenchmen walkin' slow Behind a camion's trail, and so, I knew they couldn't keep up, by gee. With the 'Merican Army a-buryin' me. I laffed and laffed and whooped 'er loud. Death rattled: "No sense at all! Why crowd Me out with your boisterous laff ? Friend, I Must be excused if you will not die." I got well that minute and rose and had The j oiliest Christmas I ever had. Fer a Christmas present I got, I'll say The best! Travel orders to U. S. A.! Is there a funny side to everything in the Army? Paris, France, December 25, 1918. 48 TRAVEL ORDERS I NEVER HAD ANY SISTER I never had any sister, And I don't know as I have missed her Until I came over last Fall. Then, somehow, I wanted to write her, Admonish her, yes, and indite her To be straight as a string — that is all! I never had any sister And I don't know as I have missed her Until I came over to fight. And, somehow, I wanted to write her, Admonish her, yes, and indite her To be doin' the things that are right. I never had any sister And I don't know as I have missed her Until I came over the sea. The war isn't over, I'm knowin' Till each woman on earth is a-goin* As straight as a woman can be, Paris, France, December 23, 1919. 49 TRAVEL ORDERS WHEN THE JOB IS THROUGH You git a lonesome feeling to go back most every day An' the Army seems a nuisance and you wish yourself away But have you ever stopped to think there hain't a speck of fun At home until the boys are there, yes, every mother's son, The wounded and the casuals; that hain't enough, oh, no. Not till the Occupation and the Reg'lar men kin go. There won't be any fun at all back home I'm telling you Until every soldier gits there and the job is through. So there hain't no use in longin' to be back agin, not yet, Till the boys are all back yonder. Now don't you once forget There is Regulars and Casuals and Air, Ma- rine men, too. And there hain't no fun whatever till the job is through. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 50 PRESS ON PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY Again the custom of an age-past day, Long centuries ago, has come to men. As in the time, before had passed away The customs Jesus loved, our net is cast Upon the side of right. Now we may go, As in days gone, to any home on earth, And say, "I am your guest hence shall I stay Until I have my blessing." Oh, the worth Of that past custom! It was ever then Men stayed as guests to talk the word of God. They were not questioned of themselves. No name Was even given. But of rule or rod, God's chastening government, each talked the same. Till host and guest were blest with heav'n, indeed ; This custom has returned to meet our need. PEACE Over the wars of earth these words still stand And point the way on every sea and land : '*My peace I leave with you," not as the world Hath giv'n. Yea, these words are now un- furled O'er all the world: "My peace I leave with you." 61 TRAVEL ORDERS HOW I ENTERTAINED AN AMERICAN GIRL IN PARIS AFTER THE ARMISTICE I entertained an American girl two nights In Paris, after the fightin'. Say! It's a corkin' time we were having sights Of fun ; and this was the way I entertained her. I knew a show rd like to see and asked I: "You go?" And says she: "Thank you, that will be great! Will you meet me here at this room at eight?" It was a readin' and writin' room Fer soldiers, down town handy. I see I was lucky to find a girl like she Was 'cause if I'd had to go, like as not. To her hotel, I'll say, the very spot I might not have found in Paris. I ate some supper, acrost the street, In a Bar I think it was. Anyway, The folks in that place looked very good And lady-like and I had some food That was advertised "American" ; and I says to me: "I'm as free and happy as I kin be," So then I went back to the room. A fire was a-bumin', the first I'd saw Sence I was a-livin' with Dad and Maw; In fact, I hadn't had any heat In France, not onct even to warm my feet. 52 TRAVEL ORDERS I set and thought and I didn't read, Though it was a readin' room. My need Seemed to be to set and set and think — An' then that girl she rushed in, I jink! And said : "Well, I am ready." Well, I wasn't ready. No, no siree! Not with that grate fire toastin' me. I looked in her eye and without a blink Said : "I'm not goin'. I'd ruther think And be warm agin and feel and seem That I'm home onct more in this grate fire gleam. I'd ruther think and dream and dream. I'm not goin' out," says I. A smile flew over her face so bright She answered; "Corporal, you're choosing right. The show is good, but it's ripping here. There's wondrous comfort and lots of cheer In watching a log of wood aflame, And it's better for me — ^but just the same," She added, as quick as a flash, "we'll see Each other and talk when we both are free." She picked up a log, just a corkin' one And threw it in and away she run. And I sat there all evening and thought. The next night I said : "Jest onct I'll blow My corp'ral's pay fer eats. I know I'm needin' a good, square meal, says I. I've enough fer one meal. Why should I try 58 TRAVEL ORDERS To save?" So I picked a ruther quiet place An' I went to eat, and I saw the face Of the girl I did not take at all To the show, and with the durndest gall, Knowin' I hadn't a cent to spare, I said: "Will you dine with me?" I dare Do anything. I am most a fool At darin' or so they said at school. She accepted the invitation. We had everything from soup to cheese, — Not nuts in France, — and if you please, We not only had meat but we had sole, too, A-cooked in a sort of a creamy stew. Gee, I enjoyed it! Not even once Did I stop to think what a bloomin' dunce I would be without half enough to pay My own check sayin' nothin' of her's. I'll say, That girl was someone you'd like to know, Like a brother or like the pals who go Into No Man's Land. She laffed and said: ''I washed my hair last night and went to bed." She slipped her hat back. Believe me. With curled, bobbed hair she was good to Of all the dolled-up girls I knew She had something on everyone, it's true. Then I remembered how I let her last night Go home alone with no speck o' light On the streets. I laffed out loud and I almost grew Boisterous and I told her, too, 54 i TRAVEL ORDERS That I sure forgot last night that she Was a girl at all. Says I : "Kin it be That men is becomin' girls and you Girls is becomin' men? Can this be true?" And I laff ed and almost hollered ! And while I was laffin', I heard her say In a quiet tone to the waiter : "Mais, Pour moi, Taddition, s'il vous plait." An' I thought: "Gee, that's another food But her orderin' thus far has been good." The waiter brought on a silver tray A paper, and I fainted dead away Or pretended to when she paid the bill. An' I'll say f er once that I had my fill Of the best dinner I'd had in France! And right that minute, ten girls rushed up — "Y" girls, they were, — all flushed up With hurryin', never a speck of paint Did they wear at all. I told 'em "I hain't Engaged f er the evening" ; said they to me : "We've got tickets for a show you would like to see." We laffed and giggled and had great fun. Them eleven girls and I, jest one Man among them, but I'll say they Was as manly as any pals out there In No Man's Land where they fight f er fair. After the show we started home. TRAVEL ORDERS "Tell US where are you stopping? Say," Says they, these girls, "can you find your way? Oh, we know Paris just like a book." I knew at a map I would have to look Far into the morning and, believe me. Not a word of French am I speakin'. See? So they took me to my hotel. And how I laff ed when I struck the hay. I held in fer the hotel was sleepin'. "Say," I thought, "how funny it was that I Forgot my sex!" I'd laff and cry When I thought how I set by the fire bright While that girl walked home in the rain last night. I laffed, but, says I : "It hain't any worse Or funnier and not half the curse That it was before this war was fought. All the crazy stunts that we always thought Was correct." I can't say as I care If I learned to be lady-like over there In France. Paris, France, December 26, 1918. 56 PRESS ON WITH AUTHORITY In asking naught for self, thou speakest well With true authority, — thus men are blest. Yea, this is heav'n and peace and joy and rest. To ever speak with the authority Of giving all that all men may be free. GIVE AUDIENCE "Paul stood up, and beckoning with his hand said, Men of Israel, and ye that fear God, give audience. The God of this people of Israel chose our fathers, and exalted the peo- ple when they dwelt as strangers in the land of Egypt, and with an high arm brought He them out of it." _Acts 13:16, 17. Give audience! Then shall ye reach again Thine home in heav'n, yea, heav'n here on earth. Give audience to Truth and voice the worth Of those who gave their all that men might live. Arise, give audience, awake and give! 57 TRAVEL ORDERS I HEARD A "Y" GIRL SINGIN' (A private's tribute to Y. M. C. A. entertainers in France) I heard a "Y" girl singin' in our Hut one lonely night. I didn't know her name at all, but gee, her looks was right. Her singing it was peachy an' she danced a hull song through With sabots clompin' on her feet. Sez I: "I wish I knew That girl. She suits me to a tee. After the war is past, I'd work my farm for her." By gee, I some- how felt I dast To ask her. She was common-like, but pretty just the same. Sez I: "Ez like ez not some day that girl will share my name." There was a guy sung with her and then sung hisself again Alone: "It's me in need o' prayer and cleans- in' of my sin. 'Tain't my mother, 'tain't my father who stands in need o' prayer, 'Tain't my colonel, nor captain, but it's me," that struck me square Between the eyes, by thunder ! Till I couldn't look at all At him. Then the accompanist a-settin' near the wall 58 TRAVEL ORDERS Struck me as bein' pretty, jest as pretty as could be. Sez I: "If that there younger girl refuses me, by gum, There's lots of others just as good. That lady she is some Looker, too. Jinks! How she plays, never followin' a note! Just then the girl rose up to sing. I choked and grabbed my throat. She was singin', "When the Boys Come Home" in a sweet sort o' way, An' when she finished, how I cheered with, Whoop, Hip, Hip, Hurray! I cheered until a guy leaned back and yelled : "You're glad she's sent I see you really like the daughter of our President." "I didn't know that it was her," sez I, and choked again, Fer in a minute, too, it struck me with a sort-o-pain She wouldn't care to change her name for Mrs. Private Brown With jest a farm and Ford, by heck, and not a house in town. I felt better in a minute, like myself, then, believe me, I hollered and I shouted fer sez I to me, "I see My fam'ly from our White House has come here to sing to me. 69 TRAVEL ORDERS The daughter of the President has come over here to France To keep us from bein' lonely and give us all a chance To remember Sis and Mother and I am glad, by gum, Fer any daughter's comin' an' I'll say, I'm glad she's come." Paris, France, December 28, 1918. A SOLDIER'S IDEA OF PRAYER I'll say I've got a funny familay, Writin' me most every day That they hain't a-ever thinkin' Wrong about me. Still they pray I'll be kept from harm and trouble And be landed safe agin Back home. They're thinkin' double, Sometimes good and sometimes sin. I'll say I've got a funny familay, Writin' me most every day That they know I'm safe from danger, Jest as in the U. S. A. But they keep right on a-sayin' That they're always, always prayin' In an awful funny way That I can't believe in. No ! When you're prayin', you're a-knowin' An' you know all that you know. Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 60 PRESS ON "NO THANKS TO ME" (The following is the substance of a greeting to a woman war relief worker by the Commanding General of the A. E. F. in the entrance court of one of the Army hospitals in France) "No thanks to me! These are the men who fought. Let everyone remember this," he said. "Thanks be to them! Let all the world be taught This lesson," and his gesture fairly took Each private's hand. We noted in his still And forceful way and in his loving look Something there was that reverenced God's will. "Thanks to the women who have come to give A hand-clasp or a soothing word of cheer. Their skillful hands have let our soldiers live And helped us win this battle over here." These were his words. We heard them, every one. And grasped his hand, and looked into his face. He knew, our General, that war was won. The ground we trod on was an holy place. The war was won and yet we could not voice The least of thanks to him, but well we knew His words had made each wounded man re- joice. "No thanks to me!" We saw just why he drew His armies ever on to victory 61 PRESS ON 'Gainst him, a nameless one, who ever cried, "All thanks to me!" Why should we not be freed By soldiers who, though wounded, have not died? They still look up with blinded eyes that see. Though they be dead, they live, and see not, free The world, because they say: "No thanks to me!" And now that Armageddon's war is done All deeds on earth shall yet be wrought this way, "No thanks to me !" Truth's mighty pow'r has won, All thanks to Principle eternally. Neuilly, France, November 9, 1918. PEACE To work and wait for peace, — such is the rest I ever seek. 'Tis always sweet and blest — To work and wait for peace. 62 TRAVEL ORDERS ADJUSTED I had almost the hull of the blamed debt paid On the place when I come away, And fixin' this coming fall to get made A silo for corn and hay. But, somehow, I often wonder Why I never think over here Of the things that are over yonder. Why, sometimes, I almost fear I am losin' my pride of the silo. And the barn and the cows and the gram. Shucks, I'm wonderin' often if I'll know The way to farm it again. I was proud of the hay and the com field. I was proud of the oats and the sheep. I was proud of capacity crop yield. But now I'm f eelin' most cheap Since I'm fig'rin' on dumb Leagues of Na- tions, What the U. S. will stand for and sich. I'm proud o'er improved post-war rations. Over France's a-gettin' rich. Over England's bottlin' and keepin' The subs that has gone fer aye. And never onct am I reapin' In my thinkin' the harvest and hay. I'll be glad, though, when folks is done giving What a whole world should do, and I know If we keep busy this earth will keep living And growing in righteousness, too. Yep, peace is established, I'm thinkin' 68 1 TRAVEL ORDERS When I return to my farm and my debt, When I*m mindin* my business and blinkin' O'er my own fire at home, don't forget. 1*11 be glad when this dumb war is over To go back to my farm and my wife. I'll go back to my com and my clover. And stick there, believe me, f er life ! Paris, France, December 23, 1919. PARLEZ-VOUS FRANCAIS Monsieur, parlez-vous f rancais ? — Not just in the way They do in Paree but it's so I can say: Montrez-moi La Rue Dontcherknow, And the Frenchman can see what I saw. You speak French, I am sure? — Not the kind to endure At the Sorbonne for doctors of law. You speak French now so well? You were wounded and fell In France for the cause of mankind ? — ^The French which I speak Is mild, gentle and meek. You never, no never could find A hero like me Who for every fast moving-picture sen- tence of equaUte, fratemite and liberte, Answers meekly and gently and simply, "Oui, oui, oui, oui." 64 1 PRESS ON 'WHO IS MY MOTHER?" Who is my mother ? Who are sisters, friends ? Thus asked he who was called The Prince of Peace. And to such questions, Truth forever sends This wondrous answer, He who does the will Of Him in heav'n is mother, sister, friend. Truly ye have received, then freely lend And take not back again thy loan, but give All, all of self. Give all! Forever live! THE TRUTH IS NOT BETRAYED "I speak not of you all," the Master said For just the briefest moment, then he saw That only one betrayed him. He had fed The multitudes, yet was betrayed. God's law Is now fulfilled. A world cannot betray One rule recorded therein. In God's way And time He hath led all men here to see The Truth is not betrayed hence all are free. THE PEACE OF STILLED APPETITES She has no appetite for aught but good, America. Thus shall earth's brotherhood Be lifted high o'er self and war and fear. God bless each pilgrim who has journeyed here From every country of the earth for peace Of self's stilled appetites. God, grant them these ! 65 TRAVEL ORDERS CANDY'S CANDY Boys, I've got a box of candy Sent me from the U. S. A., And it comes in mighty handy, Candy does most any day. It hain't much to brag of either, Jest hard candy that'll keep, But I wouldn't swap it, either If it is jest plain and cheap. 'Tain't so much that someone bought it, Wrapped it, sent it on to me, 'Tain't so much that someone thought it Would be cheery as kin be. Boys, I'll tell the truth about it Why I am so fond of it. And I know you'll never doubt it Fer I'll let you taste of it. Hain't no sentiment about me. Candy's candy, fair and square. Don't you question, don't you doubt me If I offer you a share. Candy's candy but it's never Quite the same unless some guy Is a sharin' it forever. Take a piece. Aw, take another, Here's some candy, have a try! Take another while you can. Makes you think of home and mother, Every blessed soldier-man. Candy's candy; better eat it While it's lasting. Let 'er go. Candy's candy. Kin ye beat it Not a feller answers, "NO I" Paris, France, December 23, 1918. 66 PEESS ON A HYMN A hyinn I did not know was with me when I watched in No Man's Land, A hymn I sang forever and 'twas then I Knew I was not wounded. There, God's hand Traced every word my human memory Had lost— yes, traced it on earth's sky Until I knew and sang and thought alway God's blest protection. Father, I know why I was not wounded. GIVING COMMANDMENTS Truth gives command what words of love to say And all that I should do throughout today. Truth gives command. 67 TRAVEL ORDERS AFTER THE WAR— A VEGETARIAN? (A sermon preached by a private at a dinner at Hotel Mirabeau, Paris, France.) Beef? We NEVER have it in the Army. Oh, no, I'm not kiddin*. We don't. It's chevaux. I pay the bills and I orter know. I'm pay sergeant here, I guess I am, And you don't palm off any old sham On me. Officer goes out every week, Counts every hoof, and mild and meek, I draw the checks for every horse I eat. Believe me, that food is coarse. Satan never would serve in hell Such dope to his imps! Oh, gee, don't tell I've kicked in the Army. Not till now Did I ever stir up a single row, And this isn't serious. Oh, my, no ! I pay for each horse and then I go To mess. I'm rushed right in and rushed right out. I eat without time to think. No doubt. It's far, far better and wiser. No ! If I thought, I'd go to a restaurant, go. And get some legumes. As I set at mess My thought is in Timbuctoo, I guess. When I go home, I'll never care If they don't dish up horsemeat anywhere. By gracious, it's true, I'm telling you You eat here without thinking. It's some- thing to do Fer a world. I'll say, it's a cinch, You don't become gourmands, not on a pinch ! 68 TRAVEL ORDERS An' it makes you feel sorter glad inside To set down and chew on any old hide, An' get away with the stunt and be happy and free. Mebby salvation f er you an' fer me Is right here in France. Sure, if we kin show In eatin' the rankest of old cheveau No resentment, then, mebby, we will be Saints here on earth. Think so ? Believe me. Salvation may not be so fur away. Mebby right now is the jedgement day. When nobody's killin' at all fer food Monkeys or horses, now hain't that good? When I git home I kin look square in the face Every cow and sheep and pig on the place Especially so now that I know I've had my fill of horse-meat — cheveau! After the war, there may be less Or more of complaining. Who km guess? Paris, France, December 25, 1918. 69 PRESS ON STUPID HABIT "Free me from stupid habits," prayed a world. America arose and dashed a glass Of sin-cursed whisky from each hand. She hurled It from the hands of all here. Let is pass Forever in oblivion, — ^the curse Of stupid habit. THE SERVANTS IN MY HOME The servants in my home are guests, and so As throngs of loving friends, they come and go And serve themselves and give and read and rest; There is no servant save the passing guest. 70 TRAVEL ORDERS A DEBATE BETWEEN A SERGEANT AND A PRIVATE Subject: Who Won the War? Sergeant — We come over and won the war ! Private — We didn't do no sech thing ! Sergeant — He charged me ten francs too much, by far. 0, them blamed, stingy Frogs ! Biff ! Bing ! We come over and won the war! Private — We didn't do no sech thing ! The war hain't over, I'm tellin' you Till you can't be hurt by a franc or two. You might fall dead, too, anyway. If your wound about francs is deep. I'll say When you actually have made up your mind That a Frenchman's charges are always kind, When Americans gladly give every one Of their francs to the French then the war is done, — Then we've won the war! 71 PRESS ON REPATRIATED (Two word-pictures of returning French prisoners of war, fellow compartment travellers on a journey from Dunkerque to Paris.) (First Picture) They came from Germany. Patient and true Had they become through all those wait- ing years, Simple as children, offering to you And me their prison fare. The gruesome fears Of Prussian hardships had not left a trace Except of tender kindness on each face. They came from Germany, French soldiers, they. Simple as children, loving, gentle, gay. God grant that they may reach their homes and rest Secure in Love's protected, sheltered nest. (Second Picture) I saw again the very eyes and face Of Jesus, he who lived in Galilee, — So like an older brother, the same grace Of manner of the one who spoke to free All men from fear. I asked : "Who is, indeed. This older brother?" It was one who came From Prussian prison camp. The very need Of patient love had giv'n a new name To him. He was a simple, Christ-like man, A soldier fashioned after Love's best plan. 72 TRAVEL ORDERS I WAS ALWAYS A LITTLE BACKWARD I was always a little backward in school, And when I come into the Army, I sez to me: "There hain't no use always in bein' a fool, Be as smart as a soldier kin be." They made me almost at onct a K. P. I was always a little backward. I had A lot of fear and pride as a lad So when I come into the Army, I sez to me: *'Be important as you kin e'er be." They made me almost at onct a K. P. I peeled potatoes and I likewise boiled rice Feelin' important, dignified, nice Fer sez I : "There hain't a single doughboy Who isn't all puffed up with joy When he sets down to mess," So I'm makin' a guess I've got the most important job, you see, In all this bloomin' Armee, Ain't I not? When they made me without pullin' a single, blamed string A K. P. ? 73 PRESS ON REBUILT CITIES OF FRANCE AND BELGIUM Those dear, blest cities, torn with war's mad rage. Are lifted to Jerusalem. Truth's page Hath written well of all they have built high Away from sin and self to heav'n high, On earth. THE WORKERS OF THE WORLD Each one on earth working alone for good, Each day of every year, is understood. As God's unbending law. 74 TRAVEL ORDERS MY CHRISTMAS PRESENT I had a Christmas present sent to me, A nine by a four by a three. Sent my label home but, believe me, I was 'sprised and tickled as I could be By this nine by a four by a three. Dad sent a ring, Masonic, I'll say. In this nine by a four by a three. That he treated me right and any day He don't, I'll send the Masons to pray Him to take better keer of me. The ring was too large I got. Oh, my! In this nine by a four by a three. I took it to the jeweller and he'll try To have it at least by Saterdee, — It'll look real swell on me. Mother sent socks and candy too In this nine by a four by a three. And handkerchiefs that is handy, too. A mother knows always what to do. She's bully, I'll say to you. My girl sent gloves and they were stole From this nine by a four by a three, And where they should be there was just a hole And mebby her love to me. Where the gloves should be, there was jest a hole In this nine by a four by a three, 75 TRAVEL ORDERS Where cigars Dad stuffed in could roll and roll And never be smoked by me. They was busted of course and jammed into pie, In this nine by a four by a thre- I didn't jest need 'em but I would try 'Em if they was whole, you kin bet yer eye, Bet an5^hing on me ! 'Twas a shame to waste 'em, and that was it, In this nine by a four by a three. If Sister had packed it, you kin bet it'ud fit. This nine by a four by a three. Believe me, I've told them fer I have rit Them cigars wasn't smoked by me. Sister kin pack a trunk full of junk In a nine by a four by a three. She could put in a suitcase, a ton. In a trunk A carload. Her packing, it is not punk. An' I'm sure it'ud got to me. But the strangest thing I have ever knew — Not a nine by a four by a three — But other things has never come through, Sweaters, socks, Bible and wrist-watch, too, — Never got through to me. Thinking it over, I'm ruther glad That this nine by a four by a three 76 TRAVEL ORDERS Had a hole where the gloves and cigars should have had To rest. No, it isn't bad That they never got through to me. I'm getting a slave to cigars. I vow, This nine by a four by a three Played me a game that I'm needing now So there's no use starting a fuss or a row That the things didn't come to me. I hain't a slave to horse-meat, no. So this nine by a four by a three Woke me up to kinder know That without some things a chap kin go An' be feelin' bully and free. If the gloves she sent was never stole From this nine by a four by a three, In the space they rested in, this nook, Cigars couldn't rattle. Listen, look. They'd have come straight on to me. I preach to myself fer I want to get From this nine by a four by a three, A lesson or two that I can't ferget. It's fierce to be slaves. Tobacco yet Has bossed me a lot, by gee ! An' when I think them cigars there was. In this nine by a four by a three All smashed to thunder, I say it does Look like it was done fer a worthy cause An' mebby to set me free. 77 TRAVEL ORDERS It must have been that my girl sent me In this nine by a four by a three, A lot of love to protect and free, Even though her gloves they was stole, by gee! From this nine by a four by a three. (The above is a sermon, almost verbatim, preached by a sergeant at a Christmas Eve dinner at Hotel Maribeau, Paris. The audience was the war worker at the sergeant's left.) THE FIRST SIGHT OF THE OLD PLACE Ha, ha, it looks the same, the same old place, Greener and better ! It was Fall when I Left home. Ha, ha, the same old space Between the orchard and the house. I'd try In France to measure everything Back here, spaces and sod and house and bam. I know I measured just to see if I could bring It back. I used to see it as I left it when The grass was flecked with the first Autumn snow. Ha, ha, I'm glad it's Spring. To see again The earth awakening is good, I vow. I'm glad I'm done with war and woe and pain. I'm glad I'm back. I'm glad that it is now! United States of America, June 8, 1919. 78 PRESS ON A HOME-BOUND TROOP SHIP I saw a home-bound troop ship sail today From England and I knew the war was won, A troop ship sailing gladly on its way To the new continent. God's will was done, And peace had come to reign again on earth. I saw a troop ship sail away today, Laden with tasks completed and the worth Of service. Then I knew that those who pray At home are well rewarded. Then, indeed, I saw Love's vision as earth's only creed. I saw a troop ship sailing o'er the sea From England and I heard the song they sang. Those British people: "God's love be with thee Until we meet again," the promise rang With Christlike tenderness, and, then, I knew For the first time the glory of the task That England's love had wrought. Her brave fleet, true To Principle bore all war's need could ask. 1 saw a west-bound troop ship, then, indeed, I knew that peace eternal is earth's creed. I saw a west-bound troop ship setting sail From England and I praised the God of all. Love's universal service could not fail. 79 PRESS ON I saw the troops who answered a world's call, And heard kind, English voices sing a song Of fond farewell which made two nations one. Uniting all the earth. I saw that wrong Had no more sway since God's will now is done. Earth's creed of peace enfoldeth all today. I saw a homebound troop ship sail away. Liverpool, April 3, 1919. ONE DAY OF GRATITUDE One day of gratitude is all I ask, — One day of thanking God, — Then every task Is finished. 80 TRAVEL ORDERS I HAIN'T NEVER GOIN' BACK TO THE SAME, OLD CONVENTIONS I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions — Not in America. Believe me! No introducin' agin' f er me, An' f earin' to speak lest ye don't speak right, An' risin' in momin' an' sleepin' at night. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. If I need to eat, I will eat right then If I kin find the food. Then agen, If I want to make of the night a day, I'll do it, by gracious, you watch me. Say, I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. If I want to choose a girl for a pal Jest like a brother, you bet I shall. An' I'll treat her square, you kin stake yer life Fer we reverence wimmin in Army life. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. Walkin' the street, if I see a man 81 TRAVEL ORDERS I may be askin* him if he can Tell me, please, where street So-and-so be. Gee whiz ! I may ask in Amerikee, Jest as we're doin' in gay Paree. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. If I board a street car on Christmas day And see a strange lady, I may say : "I hain't had no turkey ner Christmas tree Back in America, and, believe me, I think I'll go, if you're askin', see. Home with you fer dinner. Why shouldn't I be?" I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. 'Merican wimmin in Paris I've never seen Are stoppin' and askin' where I've been At home in the States and I'll say. Gee whiz ! It's a corkin' world to live like this With the inspiration of a smile From 'Merican wimmin onct in a while. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't wantin' anything over here 82 TRAVEL ORDERS But a smile from someone I don't know or keer If I see agin. A canteen spread With jam and doughnuts and good, white bread Is heav'n enough in France. My hat! We're thankful for jest such things as that. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I hain't never goin' back to the same, old conventions. I'm wantin' to know every girl I meet, Every man and woman and child on the street. I've learned when I hadn't a home to be In that fam'ly, home and church to me Is smilin' and speakin' to everyone. It's a great, old war we fought ! I'm done Ferever with the same, old conventions. Paris, France, December 27, 1918. 83 PRESS ON A PRAYER Just give me time to know my fellow men, Each one of them through all life's devious ways. Just give me time to know each one so when I pass his way again in future days, I may be glad to greet him as a friend. And give him aught or ask of him to lend. give me time to know each one and then To pass again along the way of each And every one of them, my fellow-men. Just give me time to greet each one and reach Far out and clasp his hand though it be far Across the sea. Just give me time, I pray. From night until the dawn of morning star To know and love my fellow-men each day. 84 TRAVEL ORDERS I LOST MY BIBLE AT CHATEAU- THIERRY I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. I knew it was all up with me. I hadn't a chance, and I nary Was wantin' one either. I be Tired of fightin' and goin' A-hatin* from momin' till night. I wasn't objectin' but knowin' That fightin' and scrappin' hain't right. I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry, The one Mother gave when I came Over to France just to bury Bill Kaiser and git quite a name. The minute I lost it, a-whizzin' Come a Fritz shell and located me. It was sort of a question-mark quizzin' Jest where my good lungs orter be. I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. "Good-bye, boys, I'm done for," I shouted. I thought : Brother fell yesterday. It's tough on my mother ! I doubted If she ever could stand it this way. I was picked up, I guess, and brought flyin' In a Henry to gay, old Paree, And laid in a hospital, dyin', As fast as a feller could be. I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. 86 TRAVEL ORDERS I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. The next day, I guess, I was givin' My own life that seemed like a fairy Tale told. I was dyin', not livin' When the head nurse speaks softly. Sez she : "There's a war worker here from your city, Dear John Boy," she speaks thus to me, "And it is a blessing and pity She can talk to your mother and be A comfort in telling she saw you, This last day, my Boy, you were here. An American woman. It's quite true She can give you some good, old, home cheer." I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. "I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry," That was all I could say when she came, This woman who stopped at my cot-side, — I don't even remember her name. I gasped : "Tell my mother her son died Fer a world and I thank her again Fer the Bible she giv' me in leavin' My home, and I know that my pain Was eased. Tell her not to be grievin'." I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry. In the Army no one can be saying What's comin'. I expected some prayin* But this woman surprised me, I'll tell you. "John," she shouted, "this thing is a lie ! You came from my town? Then you're game, too, A fighter who never will die. 86 TRAVEL ORDERS What if you lost your Bible at Chateau- Thierry ? There are Bibles in the world! You should care." She looked like an angel, a fairy But she spoke with a dare-devilish dare. "I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry." "It is not true at all" replied she, This woman who looked like a fairy, "You can't lose the Lord's prayer!" Oh, gee, How I loved her and feared her and thought I : Is she Pershing to talk thus to me? I knew that the notion that I'd die Was a-slippin' away. I could see That this woman wouldn't speak to my mother About my dyin' at all. I knew that she would about Brother And where he was choosin' to fall Out where I lost my Bible at Chateau- Thierry. "I lost my Bible at Chateau-Thierry," I said darin'-like jest onct more. It was surely a wail but I nary Loved Bibles 'fore comin' to war. "Say the Lord's prayer," she yelled, and I said it. "Say it louder," she shouted in glee. 87 TRAVEL ORDERS ''Stick to it to-day, yes, jest wed it, You can't lose the Lord's prayer, you see If you think that you're some short on breathing. Say the Lord's prayer. Get into the game, And command old Dis-Ease to be leaving, The devil and he are the same." Them wimmin war workers, I'm sayin' Was brave both in fightin' and prayin'. An' will you believe me, I said it All day, that blamed, bloomin' Lord's prayer. It seemed like a bride and I wed it. An' I'll say that it treated me square. I'm goin' back home with the first lot They are shippin' and, gee, that suits me ! "Did I die, then?" you ask. Well, I did not. I'm fit f er the trenches, I be ! That woman came twict more to see me. That American woman, the one Who rounded me hotly. I'll say. Gee! When I knew her, she was lots of fun. She brought me a Bible the first day, A brown leather one, awful sweet. I cuddled it closely and then, say, I slipped it safe under my sheet. The next time she brung me a letter My own mother wrote and, I'll say. This woman wrote Mother: "John's better," The day I was passing away. 88 TRAVEL ORDERS Was she Pershing? I'm never quite know- ing, Or was she an angel from God? My lungs is a-shouting and blowing, And I do not lie under the sod. If she's Pershing, I'll bet you a dollar. She's stricter than he is, by gee. And that she would raise a big holler If a soldier hain't dressed to a tee. I'm glad to be up, to be flyin' About. That bed, though, believe me was fine! I'm glad that I'm livin', not dyin' An' I'm glad that I have shoes to shine. They say my brother laughed as he fell as if he made up his mind To be glad as could be with the task they assigned To him. I've still got a Bible so I guess that I nary Lost my Bible or anyone or anything at all at Chateau-Thierry. Auteuil, Paris, France, December 26, 1918. Hospital Number Five. 89 PRESS ON FREEING GERMAN PRISONERS I saw you on the roads of France, you men, You prisoners, garbed ever just the same In greyish green; and seeing you, again After long years of war, I knew the shame Of nation hating nation was no more. I saw you ever on the roads of France, And, seeing you, I gave all men their due. All men upon this earth are free ! The chance Of freemen has not passed away from you ! And when I reached America once more Always the vision of you grey-green men Was with me. In the market place, before Assemblies, in the office and, too, when I sat at table with my wife and child. If I were tempted there to speak one word Of warring condemnation, always you, You grey-green men rose up as if you heard. And, seeing you, I gave a tender, true Reply. I saw you ever on those roads, you men, You slaves of centuries of warring hate. Again I see you visioned here, and, when I need to love, it is as if you wait. You grey-green, burdened creatures just to show The nothingness of hate and war and pain. I see you still upon earth's roads and know That I must speak with tenderness to gaiii Your freedom. United States of America, June 8, 1919. 90 TRAVEL ORDERS I'M GLAD SHE'S A GIRL If I've got to wear one the Baby has, too, So I bought her this cute Croix de Guerre. The ribbon is bright and the cross is so new ! She'll be wearin' it 'round everywhere. I'll say she deserves it as much as I do. Deserves it far more than her Dad, So I bought her this medal and I'll say to you, I'll wager the Kiddie'll be glad. I never have seen that dear, little tad Except on this cardboard, you know, I sailed two months before, and I'll say I was glad When I heard she had come. Even so If she was just a girl when I hoped right along She would sure be a boy when she came. I was glad just the same and I sang a real song Even though she could not bear my name. No ! Mike hain't a name for a girl any day, Though her Daddy's a corp'ral, please note; And so my wife wrote: "Her name's Mil- dred." I'll say Those two first letters stuck in my throat. So I sang all the day: "Mike, Mildred, Hur- ray! 91 TRAVEL ORDERS I'm glad for a girl, yes, it's true." IVe been glad for two years, been glad every day She's a girl, I am telling to you. The cuteness of this — this new Croix de Guerre ! I will pin it right here on her dress. I can see her toddlin' about as she'll wear It as proud as her father, I guess. I like the idee, far better you see Than wearing my own. I declare, I'm glad she's a girl and can go 'round with me Wearing her own Croix de Guerre. 92 PRESS ON ENGLAND'S PLEDGE She kept her pledge to Belgium ! This song A free earth sings throughout each day and night. She paid her pledge when it fell due. The wrong Of evil could not turn her from the might Of her true word. This sceptered nation hurled Her all into Love's scale with naught to gain Except the freedom of a fearful world From war and wrong and poverty and pain. She saw the vision of a glad earth blest With lasting peace, with heaven's work and rest. Her pledge was paid in full when it fell due. The word she gave to Belgium was true. She kept her pledge to Belgium ! Her men Fought valiently in Flanders' mud and rain; Her women sought the tasks of slaves again. All England paid that no more war or pain Should strike at earth. The vision of the King Who reigns o'er all, she saw by night and day — A world redeemed from fear and suffering. Her battle cry became the words we pray : "Thine is the kingdom !" This her bugle call, 98 PRESS ON **Thy kingdom come" — thus England fought for all, And paid in full her pledge when it fell due. Thank God, her word to Belgium was true ! Paris, France, January 25, 1919. TRUE UNDERSTANDING FRIENDS Out of the war, true understanding friends Were bom, nation for nation, man for man. Whoever freely gives and gladly lends Was bom of peace, indeed, in war, and can Have life eternal here if he will choose The good and ever watch now to refuse All evil. 94 TRAVEL ORDERS I DROVE A SOLDIER HOME ONE DAY I drove a soldier home one day, and I Stopped at the kitchen door and let him out. I was ashamed ! I really had to try To keep from crying when I heard them shout Their welcome, — all the little children ran And fell upon his neck. The mother stood Within the vine-wreathed door. He was a man, This soldier, so I turned my car about ; I knew I'd have to treat him as one grown. Why should I weep? I had, indeed, no doubt That all of them were happy. Had I known One hour like this! Had my son, too, re- turned ! Such were the traitor thoughts I spurned that day. I never knew before how much I yearned To see that grave in Flanders far away. But looking up through clearer eyes, then I Saw that which stilled the yearning in my heart, — A rainbow brightly shining in the sky; ''From God's beloved son no one can part," — Such was the legend of the rainbow sign. I know now God's beloved son and mine Are deathless, joyous, active, ever free. No grave in Flanders beckons now to me. United States of America, June 8, 1919. 96 PRESS ON I SAW THE GOLD STAR MOTHERS I saw the gold star mothers and the wives Of comrades and I couldn't help but smile And be exceeding glad for all the lives That had defied earth's battlefields and while I, too, marched down the street, I had to say. Just to myself, of course: "I am so glad For all those mothers and those wives today. If each one knew the blessing she has had!" I can't explain to anyone why I, Since fighting, always see the other side. Sad things are glad to me. I cannot cry For grieving ones. This world so far and wide Teaches us lessons and the war has come To teach me many that I should have known. I weep for mothers when their sons come home And laugh for those who have to live alone. I weep and laugh, not as the world would weep Or laugh, for, over there, we always said Some witty thing each time the guns would keep Us from our talking. No one e'er fell dead 96 PRESS ON Except when joking there, and so, I knew That in this world back here, we must have turned Things upside down. It's true, I'm telHng you. In the parade, I really, truly yearned To laugh aloud when I beheld them there, The gold star mothers and the wives of those Who joked until the end. I cannot care! I saw my comrades jolly Death! They chose The hardest place and laughed within the line. And so I laugh again and joking say. As if to them: ''Comrades, your wives, it's right, And gold star mothers make me laugh to- day." United States of America, May 20, 1919. 97 TRAVEL ORDERS THE CONVERSION OF MISS JONES, MAIDEN LADY "I have no one who's over in the war And I am lonesome," wrote Miss Jones to me, My teacher in the Sunday School. "Not far Away is France ! If it could only be That I might have a son or nephew there, Someone I knew, how often I would write ! I want some letters starting out, 'Somewhere In France/ If I just had a son now in the fight Or brother or a cousin, I can see It wouldn't, couldn't make it half so bad." This was Miss Jones's letter. I said: "Gee, I somehow, someway wish that Miss Jones had A son or brother over here in France." It seemed, somehow, that it is fair to all To have one relative who gits a chance To answer at our Uncle Sammie's call. There's Miss Jones, anyway three-score and ten. Who's wishin' now she'd had a son to go, At last Miss Jones kin see that men is men And usefuller than anyone kin know. 98 PRESS ON HOSPITALITY Just give yourself to all mankind each day And this is breaking bread with them. The way Of service is to give all, — give, not lend To everyone you meet. To be a friend Is hospitality. HOME AND SERVICE A house will shelter no one, but a home Is safe abiding place. Its sheltering dome Is broad and high. A table spread with food And served with menial hands is never good. True meat and drink is giving all men need With thine own hand, — this, then, is bread indeed. 99 TRAVEL ORDERS "BE PATIENT WITH ME," SAID BROTHER "Be patient with me," said Brother, "Till I'm used to living here In this house of brick another Has built. I somehow fear To lose the dream that is fading. That dwelling which no man's hand Has built — the home I was spading Each night in No Man's Land. "I never knew its beauty Till I came back again. I built under lash of duty And often, too, the pain Of sleeplessness and fearing The sound of the guns on high ; But through it all, I was hearing A comrade's laugh or cry. And when one laughed, then I laughed, too,- At night they laughing, fell; And when one cried then I chaffed, too, I knew that all was well. So I built my house each night there, Out where the guns swept past. I knew that I had a right there And calmly slept at last. "I slept when the guns were crying, Slept when the guns were still, I slept when the guns were sighing Over my head. I will Try to rest content and dwell here," 100 TRAVEL ORDERS My brother said and sighed, **In a house which is as still here As if a world had died. "It was so real in that land there, It was so real and true. I could touch a comrade's hand there At night, and, then, I knew That we watched, we two, together For better times to come. We would laugh and groan together — This was our human home. Oh, the stars oft'times shone bright there. Way out in No Man's Land. We knew that we had a right there To touch another's hand. "Be patient with me," said Brother, "Till I'm used to living here. In this house of brick another Has built. I somehow fear To lose the dream that is fading — That dwelling which no man's hand Has built — ^the home I was spading Each night in No Man's Land. United States of America, May 24, 1919. 101 PRESS ON MY MOTHER My mother smiled so when I marched away And wept when I came back, And, yet, I know just how she felt. I'll say, There wasn't any lack Of welcome in the tears my mother shed. I know my mother ! When she smiled, she led Me to believe it was a joyous day. My mother smiled so when I marched away! My mother stood so near me in the line When we marched up the street. I never had a scratch. Am feeling fine. In action sixty days ! I thought she'd greet Me with a smile. She cried and turned away. But how she smiled and cheered that other day When I was leaving home! I know that she Smiled when she felt the very saddest, too, And wept when she was gladdest. Wish you knew My mother! United States of America, May 18, 1919. 102 TRAVEL ORDERS I WAS IN PARIS WHEN THE ARMISTICE WAS SIGNED I was in Paris when the Armistice was signed. It was a quiet day for me. I stood Above on Rue St. Honore, and I Wondered what I would do ! Earth's brother- hood Had been my wounded child so long ! My cry Was smothered. I must be exceeding glad, I knew, else I were traitor. Dear God, why Is this the saddest day I ever had? — I asked myself — Nothing to do! I pray To gladly lay down all this work, and may I enter in the joy of those who go Freed from earth's war about these streets. I know It is a traitor's sin, — this stifled cry. Others rejoice in peace, and why not I? I am not wanting war. I want a task As great as heaven itself. For this, I ask And I shall be content. I ask no more Of separation, want or woe or war. Yes, on that day I watched the crowds surge past Below. I knew that peace had come at last. I was in Paris when the Armistice was signed. Paris, France, November 11, 1918. 108 PRESS ON JOY AND SERVICE (A tribute to England's War Premier and her men) Always through days of stress, a sad world said "From whence, then, hath this man this living spring Of joy?" It seemed as if the very dead From battlefields had lent a wondrous thing To him, — to ever bear up while they gave Their human lives, and, thus, a whole world cried : 'Their mantle fell upon him hence the grave Hath no more victory. They have not died. The mantle of their wondrous joy in life Hath fallen on his shoulders. Now he can Press on and bear earth's burdens in the strife Of war and peace — thus England gave the world a man Of joy." England hath ever lent Her happiness in bearing a world's cross. Her yoke is easy! England, never bent Beneath the burdens of a world ! Her loss Of human ease hath been her joy, indeed. In bearing others' burdens, she became More joyous still. In meeting a world's need, Her sons have earned in war and peace the fame Of joy. 104 PRESS ON This joyous Leader lets a whole world see The face of England. England and her men Are ever one. A waking world, now free, Hath borrowed joy of them. Earth's yoke again Is easy. England's love hath handed down. To all mankind, the sceptered, jewelled crown Of joy and service. WHY SHOULD I NOT? Why should I not rejoice at everything Even Truth's moulding as life's chisel rings, Against my stubborn pride and human will? Why should I not rejoice, and say Always with my dear Psalmist friend: "Be still, And know that I am God?" 105 TRAVEL ORDERS "BIG BERTHA" We've got a great "Big Bertha" on our farm Beginning at six each morning to alarm Us while we sleep. It whines and whizzes, too, Its shells past Bill and me. I'll say to you We duck our heads below the quilts. I say To Bill : "Big Bertha has begun ! A day Of war like brother has in France. Oh, gee. We'll be destroyed with Paris, I can see." We've got a great "Big Bertha" on our farm Whining at six each morning. It can harm A lot ! My Father calls : "Move on You doughboys, there. Sleeping never won A war ! The windmill Krupp is fast at work," calls he. "America's in danger! Can it be I have two sons, one eight, another ten Who both are slackers. Come, rise up, my men." "The war is on ! We've got a world to feed. Sleeping on sentry guard is grave. You need To fear a court martial. A dress parade Is on today. The General has made Corporals of doughboys. Rise, Krupp's shaming you To win a service stripe of gold, all new. Hardtack and bully beef wait down below. The mess hall sergeant's calling. Rise and go! 106 TRAVEL ORDERS If you awake, you can dodge Bertha's blows, — Sleeping in mustard gas, well, no one knows What will become of you !" Our Father said All this before we would get up. The bed Seemed like a trench we loved but Bertha's whine. That windmill on our farm, makes us on time To feed the calves and get to school each day, And that is winning every war, I'll say. United States of America, May 17, 1919. M. P.'S EVERYWHERE I saw an M. P. in Trier, Owning the town, and I Knew that the world was freer For all of his work. I'll try To show you how he'd motion With his arms. It was strange, I'll say, He gave everyone the notion That he was there to stay. In Trier I saw an M. P. — Where the Armistice was signed — Beholding him, you could then see A world has made up its mind To be taking care of Trier And all that's over there. The world is becoming freer With M. P.'s everywhere. 107 PRESS ON A SOLDIER'S VISION OF TRUE RECON- STRUCTION (After Armageddon, — a world rebuilt) I saw a simple man who toiled and prayed In England, hoping, trusting well to build The ships our Mother Country's love had made And given to be lost at sea. Fulfilled Was every hope. The ships were standing sure — Each builded well with all this trustful man And others, too, were giving. To endure Throughout eternity — this was his plan. I questioned everyone to answer me: "Who is this gentle man who toils to free The nations?" But no one could ever tell. Of self and deeds, he did not speak one word. He toiled, this simple man, yea, long and well. His hammer, ringing true, was all one heard. In Belgium, after the war had past, I found again this simple man who went Always on humble errands. In the fast And moving throngs of people he would go, And often pause to comfort them. His way He chose himself. To heal each human woe Became his work. And, oft' at close of day I saw him fondly take a mother's hand 108 PRESS ON And tell her that her daughter still does live. The nameless shame she bore in that drear land Which wrought lust's havoc, failed! Love does forgive! There is no wrong to woman's deathless name. The mother's heart was comforted, indeed. I saw this simple man wipe out the shame Of Belgium's torture through his loving creed. I found in France the nations of the e^rth Building the cities that war's hate had burned. I saw waste farms redeemed, their ancient worth Increased, and, always, ever as I turned, I found this simple man at work to bring Order from chaos, never asking more Than love for his work and another's too. He humbly toiled with hammer and with song. The very nail he struck went firm and true. Both arms and hands at work were clean and strong. I often asked: 'Who is this simple man Whose work is patterned after Love's best plan?" Throughout America, joy's blest home-land, I found again this man who sought his good 109 PRESS ON Among the soldiers who had lost a hand, Or limb or eye to save earth's brother- hood. I saw this simple man go to and fro Among the widows, orphans, always cheered By their true happiness. I longed to know His name. I asked not for I somehow feared To know. There was so much of love he gave To those who lent all that all might be free. I saw him even walking on the wave With those who lost their human lives at sea. I saw him walk and talk with them. I said: "I now must know his name ! If he can go To every land and build, and raise the dead And heal all nations of the world of woe. Then I must know." I asked him: "Tell to me This might you have to bless and heal and free?" "What is your name?" "Throughout eter- nity. No man shall hear again my name," said he. "I am the one who wrought with clanking steel Earth's war of hate." I shuddered: "No, not you ! You, willing to receive, you who can feel For others? If this wondrous thing be true, 110 PRESS ON What wrought this change in you?" I grasped his arm — The withered arm and hand I knew of yore — And it was strong, and clean, and firm. No harm Had e'er befallen it. "Tell me before The God of heav'n," I cried, "can this be you? What made you willing to receive, and true In giving all to men ?" He paused, not long, And answered: "Friend, I saw that I was wrong!" "Can this be reconstruction? God is good," I answered. Said he: "All earth's brother- hood Shall know the joy of making each wrong right, — O'er every wrong of earth, 'Let there be light'." Ill TRAVEL ORDERS SERVICE OF SUPPLY My brother came from France last week, and I Caught him alone one day and saw him cry, And, seeing me, he wiped his tears away. And smiled. I understand him and I say : "Tell me about your trip across." I try Never to mention. Service of Supply. My brother came from France last week. He is Older and sadder. He is very well. I somehow didn't think that just like this He would come back to us. He doesn't tell Us of one battle but how he did try To move on from that Service of Supply. And so one day the Major's orders came To him to move on to the Front, and he Was happy just to have the awful shame Removed from him, as happy as could be. But when he reached the fighting front that day. Eleven in the morning. It was then November 'Leventh ! My, he turns away And wipes his eyes and often, too, he'll try To look straight on if some fool youngsters cry: "Our hero's home from Service of Supply." My mother talked to him one night and said : "My son, I'm very glad you're home again. I could not bear it, dear, if you were dead. If you had lost a leg or arm. The pain Of selfishness has been my curse for years. 112 TRAVEL ORDERS You are my sole support, dear noble son, I never could endure the awful fears Of being left with just this little one." She placed her hand upon my head and took My brother's hand, too, and I saw her try To bear a whole world's selfishness. Her look Made heaven of the Service of Supply. United States of America, May 19, 1919. A MIGHTY MAN A major saw my brother over there, Right on the road to Germany one day. Brother's an M. P., always standing where The roads divide. My brother points the way To everyone, the major said, and he Speaks always with such grave authority. He asks for passes. "It is true, I know," The major said, "the General's own car Your brother stopped. He wouldn't let him go — The General, a certain way." Not far Then is the road to fame. My brother played Not many years ago with me. I can Scarcely believe my brother, then, has made Himself an M. P., — such a mighty man! 118 PRESS ON THE BRITISH AND BROTHER My brother went up to "Wipers" And fought with the British men. The Germans held on like vipers But the British were there, and, then, The British had my brother So "Wipers" never fell. There never has been another City so shot to hell. My brother fell with a comrade At "Wipers" one fearful day. "He was joking," they wrote, "with a real glad Smile as he passed away." So I often think of "Wipers" And all of those British men And the Germans who held like vipers To the British and brother. Again, I smile as my brother smiled falling That "Wipers" has stood the test. The British and brother are calling A world to respond with its best. United States of America, May 17, 1919. 114 TRAVEL ORDERS LIVING GEOGRAPHY I didn't think when the Red Arrows came Much of the hardships every one had seen. I didn't think of war but just the same, I thought a lot of where each one had been. Each face was quite a study of the world, A new Geography, and I could see, When our Red Arrows came, there was un- furled A world Geography for you and me. I knew when the Red Arrows came that we Would know each inch of France from Brest to Toul. I knew the Argonne Forest we would see And Juvigny and Soissons, yes, our school Geography is living. Now I can Be interested at last, — it is a look, A smile, a shadow in each face. Each man Of our Red Arrows is a living book. I knew when our Red Arrows came, that I Had a new life from here unto the Rhine. I knew that I should know wherefor and why The world has been redeemed. I knew each fine, Bronzed face would tell me ever on the street As I passed by, each fact that I should know. I knev/ when our Red Arrows came, the feet Of Atlas were so sure that I could go 116 TRAVEL ORDERS Safely about each daily task and rest Within a world that truly was secure. I knew when our Red Arrows came, this best And last Geography would then endure. United States of America, May 19, 1919. MY BROTHER SENT A STRING OF BEADS TO ME My brother sent a string of beads to me From France. I'm really proud as I can be But how he bought them's more than I can see On fifty francs or so each month for pay. I hope he gets enough to eat each day ! I wanted beads before he went to war. And told him so. He laughed and said: "From far Away, I'll send you some, dear little Sis." I never thought I'd have a string like this ! My brother sent a string of beads to me From France. I'm really proud as I can be But how he bought them's more than I can say On fifty francs or so each month for pay. I hope he has enough to eat each day ! United States of America, May 18, 1919. 116 PRESS ON GIVE ME A HOME Give me a home which I may share with all. Father, I ask no more, — a home with wall So high and broad that no one is denied Within its door. Give me a home as wide As heaven. MOVE ON Hast thou a friend who merely says a word Or two of flattery? Quick! Move thou on Until he speaks plain facts, — then hast thou won A friend. SUPPLY Supply came unexpectedly one day when I Began to sing and praise God. I know why It pays to say: 'Thank God," and ever sing And watch and pray. Sin, death and suffer- ing All flee away as one thanks God aright. The darkness vanishes. Let there be light Of gratitude. 117 TRAVEL ORDERS MY BROTHER WENT OUT TO THE SOLDIERS' HOME My brother went out to the soldiers' home one day And talked to Grandpa, and I went with him, And listened to them talk, and, say, the way They talked! My Grandpa's beady eyes grew dim At many things my brother had to tell About Chateau-Thierry, and I knew He felt it deeply. Many times, oh, well, He said some words that aren't really true Or right to say except when soldiers tell Of war. My brother went out to the soldiers' home and said He'd like to see his grandpa, so right there We found him by the tulip bed. He fed The squirrels, too, my grandpa did and where The shadows fell across us there was bright Light too a-shining ever through the trees. My grandpa swore with Brother as they do In war. He made me sit upon his knees. He said I was a great, big, lovely girl And how he tried to make my straight hair curl! Brother and Grandpa talked, and I'll tell you, I saw that soldiers really, really bind The world. Grandpa, feeding squirrels, and a smile Of peace upon his face. He tried to find Each by-path there in France and walk each mile 118 TRAVEL ORDERS With Brother through the Argonne Forest, too. He swore a lot but Grandpa's kind and true, Just Hke all soldiers are who fight for us. My mother says they swear and kick and curse, These soldiers do at many things. A fuss They often raise and yet they are not worse Than other men. My grandpa's very good And so is Brother, not at all refined Since they have fought, but when they're understood, I guess all soldier's hearts are very kind. United States of America, May 19, 1919. 119 PRESS ON THE MILLIONAIRE'S SON His letters do make me lonely That he writes from over the sea. He hasn't asked for a dollar, Not from his mother or me. I wonder how he gets along On fifty francs for pay. I'm ready to send him anything, Yes, all, if he'd only say He's needing a little money And give me the right address. I'm ready to send him money. I really can't do less Than to send him all he's needing When he is so far away. I wonder how he is coming With fifty francs for pay. Someone wrote his mother, A lad our son, too, knows. That no one is a millionaire In the Army. Pride and clothes Don't count at all where my son is, And, maybe, that is why The fifty francs each pay day Is all he needs, but I Feel lonely to read his letters When he doesn't ask for more. It used to be quite otherwise Before he went to war. United States of America, May 18, 1919. 120 TRAVEL ORDERS THE BATTLES OF PARIS "There is no white bread in Paris, nor but- ter," my brother writes, "It's quiet and cold in Paris — streets, pitch dark, no flaming hghts At night on the streets of Paris." My brother has written me, He's fighting the battles of Paris, brave as a brother could be! My brother works for a major. Brother's eighteen this fall. He fibbed to get in the Army but he hasn't been at all To the Front. He's had some battles in Paris, I'll tell you! With no white bread or butter and cold that would cut in two! There were some pears in Paris, my brother saw one day In a window. Thought he'd buy some but didn't! No, I'll say He didn't since they were only two dollars forty a pear. He's fighting the battles of Paris, my brother is, over there. He says that the streets of Paris are most everywhere aflame With flower-carts and women. He writes that it is a shame 121 TRAVEL ORDERS He can't send flowers to Mother, since, over there, they're cheap! Violets and roses! But he knows that they wouldn't keep. My brother saw pears in Paris but had to leave them alone, — Two dollars-forty a pear were they. Wouldn't it make you groan ! There is no white bread in Paris, nor butter, nor sugar, he Fights the battles of Paris, brave as a brother could be! United States of America, May 19, 1919. 122 PRESS ON THE TABERNACLE OF GOD The Revelator wrote that God hath raised To heaven his own, wondrous temple, grand ; And everywhere with men, God's word is praised. The temple built for men is in the land Our father Abraham hath sought and found. Where'er men stand, that place is holy ground. BLESSINGS Oft'times I find a blessing in the thing I tried hard to refuse. Though evils bring a serpent, suffering Need never come; once, lifted up, a rod. It always is to lead one on to God. 123 TRAVEL ORDERS I HAD A SISTER IN THE WAR I had a sister in the war and she Went up in Russia very long ago And opened up a hostess house. I see, I haven't spoken as I should ! I know You fellows aren't proud of sisters, you Who had so many brothers over there. I had a sister in the war. It's true That no one ever gives to girls their share Of glory. I had a sister in the war. She was Stationed in France and then in Petrograd. I know that she was working for a cause — To make our fighting men more brave and glad ! She kept her hostess house so neat and clean, Curtained with bandage cloth ! And every night Those frozen boys would come, and she has seen Them weep because the fire was burning bright. I had a sister in the war. I had a sister in the war, a great, Big, jolly girl, and now that she is back. She doesn't talk so much. She had to wait A year for letters, watched the frozen track Of that White Sea on Russia's coast, and so, I know she did her part and fought and won. 124 TRAVEL ORDERS I had a sister who was glad to go And give up all her parties and her fun At home, and so I know that I am blest Just like you boys whose brothers went. No more Than two of us at home ! It was the best That I could do, — a sister in the war! United States of America, May 19, 1919. HAVE YOU ANYTHING TO TELL ME? Have you anything to tell me About over there in France? — I asked Bill Jones, my neighbor. Since I do not get a chance To hear of the fight that was raging. I hadn't a brother there. Fm the only one in the fam'ly. Too young! And it isn't fair! So we sit oftimes in the evenings, Bill Jones, his mother and I And we talk of France by the grate fire Till I, leading armies, try To keep the Germans from crossing The Marne and the Belleau Wood. I'm glad that I have a neighbor Who is friendly, kind and good! United States of America, May 18, 1919. 125 PRESS ON YPRES Ypres, I have not seen so beautiful a face As thine. No city on the earth is quite like thee, A remnant of marred stone — no other trace Of beauty save a mass of graves. To free A world thy remnant stands safe and secure. Ypres, A nation's love hath kept thee clean and pure. Ypres, Never once taken, never yielding to War's shock of greed and lust ! Is there, in- deed, A finer tribute? Is there more to do Than thou hast done to guard earth's sacred creed Of right? Ypres, Thy face became to me The face of a kind mother as I stood And looked upon thy broken walls. Each stone Upturned, spoke clearly : "God is very good Forever!" I, a woman, quite alone, Without a human guide or friend could see Gleaming from shattered window panes the light 126 PRESS ON Of justice, — Truth's great right to truly free Earth's women and earth's children from the might Of evil's sway. Ypres, No face like thine Hath ever seemed more marred and yet di- vine. Thou gavest all thy beauty, all thy grace To make on earth a fairer, purer place For men. Ypres. Mother of war's cities, waste and lone, To woman's honor, every broken stone Hath reared an altar. Ypres, thou art to me The symbol of true woman's purity. In jdelding not to lust, thou hast set free All men from lust and war and want and hate. Ypres, wondrous in beauty and yet desolate. Ypres, Out of thy ruined walls there shall arise Respect for woman, earth's true paradise. The seven times thou hast withstood lust's greed Have proved that selfless love is still earth's creed. On Train from Dunkerque to Paris, January 6, 1919. 127 TRAVEL ORDERS MY FATHER PAID THE AWFUL, AWFUL PRICE! My father paid the awful, awful price Of never going to the war at all. My brother went and so my mother said My father must stay home. I know the call Came to him every hour, — the call to go And so I pitied him for don't I know Just how he felt? My father paid each day The price of never going. I can say He paid enough ! My father often used to sit and hold His head when he would read the news at night. His thought whizzed 'round in action and he told Us that he knew each man should surely fight! I used to treat my father better, too. Whenever Brother's newsy letters came. My father longed to go and so I knew He felt it was a downright, awful shame For men to stay at home, safe over here While all our boys are fighting over there. My father paid the price of staying home. He wanted so to go ! It wasn't fair ! 128 PRESS ON NO RESPONSE (A tribute to France's unoffended War Premier) It did not find response in him, and so The bullet could not strike. He did not know That he was aught except a child who had To keep his joy at any cost. His glad Smile brightly answered a world's cry: "I feel no injury." He questioned, 'Why Should I not do my joyous work?" He knew The world's peace in the balance must weigh true. And thus it was the bullet sought in vain A lodging place. The wondrous, healing gain Of a whole world is to behold this hour That malice with its blow of human pow'r Found no response in him. He is, indeed, A childlike man who meets the world's great need. If you become a child, then shall you come Into this heav'n of peace, man's changeless home. The mansions of Love's house shall be pre- pared. All this the Master taught. Truth's home is shared In greater measure in this hour of peace Because a leaden bullet could not cease The patient work of one whose love could find Naught in an injury that was unkind. A world's peace still unfolds, — true, childUke good, Enduring peace for all earth's brotherhood. 129 TRAVEL ORDERS MY BROTHER WROTE HE WAS IN PARIS My brother wrote he was in Paris when That great, big statute down in Concord Place Was decorated — Lille — they call her. Then I thought rd like to see that woman's face. Her name is splendid, Lille, a city's name. In France, they treat large cities just the same. They make them women, wonderfully sweet, And decorate them down there in that street In Paris. My brother saw it all For he enlisted long ago. The call "To Arms" got him at once, the very day We entered war and I can truly say I'm not real jealous of him 'cept when he Writes back of mud and trenches. I can see It all and want to go. And when he goes To Paris on a furlough, no one knows How much I suffer to be with him there Down on the Champs-Elysees, everywhere He goes ! My brother was in Paris when They decorated Lille. Oh, my, oh, when Can we have another war? My Ma says: "NO! We're through with wars forever! There, don't cry. We'll go and see the Fronts, my son. Yes, I And Pa and you will go to Concord Place And look into each woman statue's face." United States of America, May 17, 1919. 130 PRESS ON LA LIBRE BELGIQUE (A tribute to La Libre Belgique, the uninterrupted War Journal of Belgium) A voice was raised in Belgium through those years Of grief and torture, yea, a voice that spoke Kind as a mother's, stilling haunting fears. A voice spoke with authority and broke Earth's fearful dream. Never again shall earth Be fettered as it was in those dark days When Belgium found a way to speak and praise Her faithful Allies. Yea, a voice was raised In Belgium — for this let Truth be praised. La Libre Belgique hath raised her voice In those hushed days in Belgium, and said A war-torn country could that hour rejoice And with her songs raise soldiers from the dead. Such was the message that an attic wall Could not restrain — it liberated all And brought Love's creed of hope and peace and rest To Belgium, and helped her stand the test. 181 TRAVEL ORDERS MY SON SENT ME A PRESENT My son sent me a present From the Rue Castiglione, And, somehow, when I got it, I felt that he hadn't gone To fight at all in Flanders. My soldier boy sent on A letter and some forget-me-nots From the Rue Castiglione. There were three such tiny flowers, Tucked away in a fold Of the letter my son sent to me With the sweetest story told. I read his letter the hours His father's away each week, From Monday till Friday I read it. With never a one to speak To me as the days are fleeting Toward the day he's coming home. My son sent me a greeting From Paris, — ^the Place Vendome. My son sent me a present From a shop that's over there — Three little, tiny blossoms, Fragrant and blue and fair. They make me think of the flowers I fashioned so long ago On his baby dress before he came To live with us. Now I know Why the weeks are passing quickly While Father's away. I guess 132 TRAVEL ORDERS I am making again in my dreaming That same, sweet baby dress. My son sent me a present From the Rue CastigUone And, somehow, when I got it, I felt that he hadn't gone. United States of America, May 18, 1919. MY BROTHER BROUGHT A WIFE BACK My brother brought a wife back and I try To talk with her. She smiles and, then, I say: "II fait tres manifique, aujourd'hui." I Can't say another word. The gentle way She answers makes me think I'd like to be A linquist and speak every language well. My brother's wife is very kind to me And I say, "Merci" but I'd like to tell Her more of what I feel. Her loving look Is helpful to me so I have to go And study dictionaries and my book Of grammar so I'm sure that you can know How hard it is to tell her but I find That we can really talk through being kind ! United States of America, May 18, 1919. 188 PRESS ON THE WOUND STRIPE When Brother came from war, my father said That he had quarreled with Neighbor Brown, and he Warned Brother not to speak. My father led Him in the house and said : "I know you'll be Friendly to everyone but that old Brown. Speak graciously to everyone in town Except that quarrelsome neighbor. I declare! He drove me mad while you were over there." And so I was surprised that very day, To see my brother sitting on a step Of Neighbor Brown's. I wondered if the way Of soldiers is to fight and then forget All troubles, and I saw our neighbor, too, Caress the wound stripe that my brother had. I saw my father look at them. I knew That he, too, had forgiven. He was glad My brother disobeyed. 184 TRAVEL ORDERS I LIKE MY BROTHER'S NEW WIFE I like my brother's new wife But she doesn't speak a word Of Enghsh. Yes, you bet your Hfe I Kke her! I have heard A lot of people saying Words who can't talk like her. There's something as sweet as praying In the very walk of her. I like the wife of my brother. He met her over in France. I don't think there's another In our town whose had the chance To become so cultivated, So gentle-like and kind. I'm glad my brother waited And then made up his mind There's something more than talking That counts in this old life. There's a sermon in the walking Of my brother's new French wife. United States of America, May 18, 1919. 135 PRESS ON THE RED CHEVRON I'm not so proud of it and still I'll say I'm glad to have it, glad it's mine today. I never knew how much this thing would cost, This little strip of red cloth. I most lost My life one day at Soissons. Anyhow, I got well fast and I am back home now Wearing a red chevron. I often wonder if the days between The time I left and now will ever seem A dream. I wonder if those months in France Will vanish. Anyhow, I got the chance To go! I'm pleased as I can be With this red chevron — it was earned by me, — This new red chevron! A REST It is a rest to ever let God plan Each day and hour. Today we truly can Go to and fro always the guest of One ^Vho knoweth all. Rest! Let His will be done. 136 TRAVEL ORDERS PROMOTED I'm doing a little each night now Extra while Jim's away. I don't seem to have the right now To loaf much any day. There are cows to feed and chickens, Pigs in the pen back there. Jim must have worked like the dickens. There's really no lack here Of choring to do each day now — Jim did the chores before — I'm glad that he is away now, And has earned him a rest in the war ! I'm doing choring each morning Extra while Jim's away. I cannot do any scorning For all that he did each day Jim's only eighteen, I'm sajdng — A full-sized man at work — All that I'm asking is praying That I will never shirk The tasks that he did so gladly, A-whist'ling every night. And morning. I sadly. Admit I have no right To sit down by the fire. And smoke my pipe. I ask no more ! So glad Jim's gone higher, And has earned him a rest in the war. United States of America, May 26, 1919. 137 PRESS ON WOULD SHARING BE FAIR? We have almost too much sunshine, Too much good butter and bread. In France they have too much red wine, And here we are too much fed. We have too much heat in winter In our houses. We've too much snow ! America never would stint her Even on weather, you know. I'm wondering if we can't share things. Save wine — we'll have none of that. Yes, share with them right where things Are scarce, — can you answer that ? THANK GOD FOR DEBTS A debtor to the Greeks and to the Jews, Paul hath declared himself eternally, — Yea, to Barbarians and bond and free To wise and unwise. Thus Paul taught to choose The debt of giving love to men is way Of peace. Debt is Truth's wondrous way Of giving, handing love to everyone. Thank God for debts until Love's will is done. 188 TRAVEL ORDERS ONE RHINE FORT DESTROYED (With the Army of Occupation) I saw one fort destroyed upon the Rhine, Our boys sang songs of cheer. There was no trace of war or mine or thine. No thought of hate or fear, And from the fort the strongest of the world, I saw our flag unfurled. I saw one fort destroyed upon the Rhine. I saw one fort destroyed upon the Rhine, Our boys were watching there. There was no trace of war or mine or thine. Our boys were everywhere, And from the fort the strongest of the world, I saw our flag unfurled. The fort of Gibralter on the Rhine Surrenders human pow'r. There was no trace of war or mine or thine. Our boys are there this hour, And from this fort, the strongest of the world, Our flag is now unfurled. Fort Ehrenbreitstein, Germany, March 16, 1919. 139 PRESS ON OUR GREAT TEACHER'S HUMANITY Someone told me Christ prepared a feast After the resurrection, — yea, a meal, For his dear followers. The least I, then, can do is first to bless and heal And after make a supper with mine hands And thus fulfill all of our Lord's commands. Yea, someone told me what I should have known Long years ago as written plainly there Within the Scriptures. Now, I truly know Since someone told me. Love is everywhere Revealed in human kindness. Let me lend And give all good forever for this word I learned from one who talks of God, — a friend. Father, I thank Thee truly that I heard. LOSING NOTHING It is a joy to give all. None can lose One thing in giving. Giving is to choose To have. 140 TRAVEL ORDERS HOT RATIONS I saw a doughboy weep for joy one day Down at Mont Sec because his food was hot- Hot rations, yes, 'twas ever in a way Simple as this, the soldiers knew their lot Had been twice-blest. Hot rations after days Of firing in the trenches — this was all. I saw a doughboy weep for joy. War's ways Of gratitude are devious. The call Of mess with steaming food had made him weep For joy; and then I knew the world should keep The memory of the grateful tears he shed — Hot rations. War hath raised the thought- less dead In France. I saw these tears of joy and knew That gratitude is fadeless, deathless, true. The mud of trenches could not dim his joy And peace. I saw him smile through tears, this plain doughboy. Over hot rations. 141 PRESS ON THERE IS A WOMAN LIVING ON OUR STREET There is a woman living on our street Whose son did not come back at all, and I Speak sweetly always to her when I meet Her every day. I smile and bow and try To look real cheerful since I know that she Remembers how he smiled at her, and so I always look real happy when I see Her. It's a notion but I know It helps her. One day I met a neighbor I detest So much! I thought that surely I would frown And pass her without speaking. As a jest To my own self, I said : "Look up, not down, And smile and speak just like you always do To that dear woman whose son never came Back from the war at all." This thing is true, I smiled and bowed and spoke and felt no shame. It helped me. 142 TRAVEL ORDERS THE CHANGE IN FATHER I've noticed Father's very kind these days, Since I've been gone, there's really quite a change. He seems to have improved in all his ways. I could not make it out. It's very strange To see him sweetly smile and hope you're well. And say, so gracious-like : "It's fine today — If you have errands in the town, and tell Me what you want, I'll gladly do them. Say The word," my Father says, *l'm surely glad To help you." All of this he'll gently speak To everyone. He dresses up and goes Alone to town now nearly every week, And buys him ties and handkerchiefs and clothes. I often wondered why he's changed so, and I asked my mother if she thought the war Had made him sweeter. Mother took my hand And laughed, and squeezed my hand, and laughed some more. "My son," she said, "you are not worldly wise If you did fight a winning war in France. We now have Farmerettes, and Father's eyes Are all for them. I let him have his chance Because at heart your father isn't bad. He just has been real lonely all these years 143 TRAVEL ORDERS Because no daughters came to us. He had A longing so for girls, their smiles and tears. These Farmerettes, out with him in the field Have made him tender, kind and sweet and true To everyone, and though the crops don't yield A grain of profit, I am telling you, I'm glad you went to France if war must come, Glad for these girl-hands and your father's joy, I'm very glad, my son, that you are home. He wanted girls — I longed so for a boy!" United States of America, May 25, 1919. THE SHEETS WERE GREAT! The sheets I slept in last night sure seemed good! The bath I took was great! That chair is fine! The chicken, too, was tender, and the food, The other food, would make your dull eyes shine. The sheets were great! I'm glad I'm home once more Glad that there was an end to that long war! The sheets were great ! 144 TRAVEL ORDERS MAC WAS MY PARTNER Mac was my partner. My mother's word After I sailed from New York, and heard How I surprised her, leavin' to fight, Set me a-goin' it straight and right. She wrote me some corkin' poetry In her letter, hopin' I would be Where duty called. And I always thought The good of that poetry had brought My partner, Mac, for to stick to me All through this battle for liberty. We used to think of the foolest rot, Mac and me, and you will likely not Believe me if I should say to you, Mac seemed like another mother, too. Mac was my partner. Down at ground school, We trained together, and every fool Stunt we pulled off, or thing we would do Together — Mac was some partner, too ! Tore anyone of us struck the line, We got a job that was peachy, fine, Deliverin' planes. Each day we'd fly From London to Paris, Mac and I. We would often play for practice, whiz ! That's just how Mac was a-gettin' his. Months after, in tellin' this, you know, rd rather not say how he bumped at me, While I was soarin' and couldn't see. 145 TRAVEL ORDERS He whisked ahead and shot back — oh, well, Others was seein' just how he fell, When he turned, and rose and swooped his plane — Mac never was playin' with me again. 'Course it was him who had been to blame. I'd ruther been bumped off jest the same. Mac was my partner. I got to fight. Everyone's sayin' I licked 'em right. In the Argonne Forest, I'd swoop low, Over the Fritzies and — let 'er go. And they would open right up, you bet. With machine gun bullets, don't forget. Only one time did they rattle me. Mac was my partner in school. Sez he. Long ago, ''Keep goin' straight on ahead Over their lines, whether live or dead." I hold the record for time spent past The German lines, and if I would dast To tell, there's many a record, too, That would be inane to tell to you. For instance, I broke my rudder off. It would surely make a feller laugh. The way I whizzed in a circle there. Above the Germans. There was a scare In their lines. They sure believed a bird They'd never knowed nothin' of or heard About had appeared. They turned to flee From a rudderless a'roplane. Oh, gee! I laughed when I nosed down safely too, Across our lines, I'm a-tellin' you. 146 TRAVEL ORDERS Then once agin, at Viller-Courtrey — Was bluer than smoke of hell that day. Mac was my partner. With eyes all dim, Decided then to be joinin' him. I flew like the devil, struck and beat Every Fritzie Boy I chanced to meet, Not fer revenge. I wanted to try To make a record for Mac and I, Before I went to report. I guess I was thinkin' of livin', bein' less In a stew than we are here below With hate and sufferin*, war and woe, I had just reached Soissons in the fight. I thought ''Gee, Mac will be pleased to-night When I report," fer I sent in flames Planes and their flyers with famous names. Right then, Mac's voice shouted clear to me. Machine gun bullets was flyin' free And fast, and they ripped and tore each wing. The engine stopped ! I could hear each thing. Mac's voice above all. It's true, I say, Mac's voice was speakin' to me that day. I was likely as near to the Pearly Gate As I'll ever get, and it was late Fer any man to be checking in Who was loaded with hate and grief and sin. The only reason Mac spoke to me Was because I had reached his home, you see. We were always on speaking terms, you bet. Mac was some partner, don't forget. 147 TRAVEL ORDERS They tell me I passed over Jordan's shore That night and don't belong here no more Than two tails belong to a maltese cat. I was killed, that's all. It's the end of that. *'You hold stidy there," sez Mac to me. When we met in heav'n. "Can't yer numb- skull see I'm keepin' that engine goin'. Be A sport and live. You have much to do In another war when this is through. I gave my life that a world might live — There's only one human life to give. It's braver to live right on and fight. The work you're doin', Boy, is right. You've made high aces of me and you, While I am a-doin' something, too." I landed safely agin behind Our lines. Mac's voice, speakin' clear and kind. Had sent me to earth once more. Sez I : "If Mac's a-goin' it, I will try Not to be a slacker. But the fight. The next one, Mac said as bein' right To be in, I knew then what it was. I surely knew then!" Sez I: ''Because Mac said so, it is a cinch it's straight. His bulletins come from heaven's gate." Jest why I returned to earth is more Than I can say exceptin' the war Mac sent me to fight is wine and beer And home-brew and gin, flowin' freely here. 148 TRAVEL ORDERS Twas after the Armistice, one night I went to Paris. Fair and right We cel'brated. At the club, we drank And danced and smoked, and sez I: "No thank You, nothin', nothin' but beer I'll take." They laughed and joshed: "Is this guy awake V* But I was awake, I didn't care For gin or cognac. Oh, yes, I dare Drink everything. I kin take it all And walk home straight. Still the high air- call Of Mac's voice was ringin'. I could see Fightin' wa'n't over f er you and me. I saw Mac, too, was makin' an ace Of me right here in this earthly place. I insisted : "No, thanks, I'll take beer — " Somewhat of a vict'ry over here! I somehow felt that Mac's rudder, too, Of wantin' to drink had broke clean through In the place he's fightin' in. By gee ! I'm glad he's makin' an ace of me. And aces don't come, I'd have you know, In Mac's war easy. The count is slow That is, the official one. You see, I'm wantin' beer, and you cannot be A-wantin' a thing. Gosh ! Gess I dast To stick till the war Mac fights is past ! I'm glad as an air-man orter be That Mac's my partner for liberty. (Paris, December 25, 1918) 149 TRAVEL ORDERS LATER IN AMERICA. Yes, all through this fight with old home- brew I'm grateful f er that one interview, I had in heav'n in Mac's new place Where he's still a-workin' to be an ace. No thanks ! Not any ! I'm glad I'm through With the things Mac is fightin' agin' f er me. Mac was my partner. No, thanks. You see It ain't fair to him or to anyone If I drink till the war Mac fights is done. No, thanks ! Not a single drop. I'm through ! With gin and whisky and old home-brew. Mac is my partner. REST To love to stay right where you are is best Since this is heaven on earth and joy and rest. 150 TRAVEL ORDERS I WANT YOU TO KNOW MY SON I want to know my son ! He just got back home last week. He was at nearly every one Of the Fronts. He'll seldom speak Of a thing. Sometimes, he lets fall A word or two, that's all I want you to know my son! I'm telling you all this — I don't know why — My son's a full-sized man now. And I Wish you could feel his muscle. Nails Aren't harder. Been gone five years With the Canadian Army. Jails Couldn't have kept him there ! Has no fears Over one thing in the world. He sure is A dare-devil, good-hearted, free, — If he is my son, I'll say this. He's really a credit to me! He was a sapper, you know, over there, Crawled on the ground like a snake, And cut the wire entanglements where The Germans set traps. Didn't make Any difference to him — this was his work ! You'll really have to meet him and see The sort that he is. He never would shirk A thing ! Of all the surprises I've had The thing that really now goes Straight to my heart and makes me most glad Was this, when my son changed his clothes, To civilian ones the night that he came. He threw on my dresser a roll of bills. 151 TRAVEL ORDERS T'was Five Hundred Dollars! — and just the same — It wasn't the money ! My heart fills With pride as I tell it ! Best hearted lad In the world ! Free to give but you can see He wasn't carousing. He was saving and had Five Hundred left over ! He's just as free As the air with his gifts and so I knew He had stuck to that war business and won. He's straight as a die, my son is, and true ! I'll set him up now in business. I'm done With fearing for him. He's proved out with me! Five Hundred my son had and he as free As the air ! It's not the money I care For at all ! I want you to know my son. I want you to know my son ! He was in action three years, long before America did one thing in the war. You see, he has cousins in Canada, so Wild horses couldn't have dragged him away From going — bound and determined to go. I had to give him his way, It sure was a lucky day For me. You see, my son learned to save And live right in the war. It's strange and true I never knew my son until he gave All when nothing was asked. Why, I tell you You can see what he's like. No one can find Anyone more free-hearted, very few 152 TRAVEL ORDERS As much so. How he ever could lay Up Five Hundred gets me! Free as the day And the air we breathe. I want you to know My son. He was a sapper in the war. Tm glad as my son that he got to go With the Canadians, long before America got in. No use to say more — I want you to know my son. May 26, 1919. I WASN'T AT CHATEAU-THIERRY I wasn't at Chateau-Thierry, Neither in Belleau Wood, I didn't fight at Soissons, Nor the Argonne, and I could Tell you the places I have not been. And the places I do not know. I wasn't in St. Mihiel sector. Since Dad wouldn't let me go. I didn't go to Ypres And fight with the British there. I never went to Arras, And it surely wasn't fair. I never was at Verdun With the French in Fort de Vaux, I'm just thirteen next winter. And Dad wouldn't let me go. United States of America, May 18, 1919. 153 PRESS ON I HAVE A FRIEND I have a friend, — my work, my day, my song, My fellow-men ; yea, as I pass along Life's way, all these seem one, — forever one. I have a friend ! God's will on earth is done. I have a friend ! THE WORLD'S REQUEST FOR PEACE I do not ask for peace until I know My nature is transformed. I do not ask For riches till I know that I can go With quietude each day to every task To rest and work. Yea, when I see My daily living has been earned by God,— I ask for peace throughout eternity, — The peace of law. Truth's c^overnment or rod. 154 TRAVEL ORDERS MY SON CAME HOME LAST WEEK My son came home last week. He's different, too. I can't quite tell you how. He seems to sit And think and think and when he speaks to you, He has a look within his deep blue eyes, As if he could see far away. I am Or should be glad. It's really a surprise To see him so grown up ! He is a man. My son came home last week. We ploughed the field Down by the wood lot and we pruned some trees We worked together but I tried to shield Him as I used to do. He said : "Please, Dad, I can do this. I ploughed in France All day. Just rest! Give me a chance." My son came home last week. We cut and slashed The apple trees and when I said to him : "We'll make a bonfire of this," I declare, I felt my very eyes a-growing dim When he replied : "No, Dad, we do not dare To waste a thing. There's need in Europe ; — we Must use these limbs. Oh, my, the suffering I've seen from cold in France! It cannot be 166 TRAVEL ORDERS That we should waste a thing," my son re- plied. He is so changed. Fm sure if I had been His Mother, I would just as surely cried For all the refugees my son has seen In France. United States of America, May 18, 1919. DAD'S ALL THROUGH WITH FRANCE Dad took me to the hotel for dinner. I said: "Gee, this food Is better than any in Paris — This chicken, sure, is good." Dad said : "Now, how much would you pay For a dinner like this in France?" I cleared my throat and said : "I'll say It would cost four bucks. The chance Of getting it would be slight." Dad cleared his throat and said : "My son The price, one dollar, is right. I'm through with France. I hope you're done Galavantin' there to war. If you'd pay four dollars for just one Dinner, you'll not go there any more!" 156 PRESS ON CHICKORY— THAT IS TROUBLE I met a man out on the street Who stopped and told his troubles. I Kept, too, from laughing. It was neat That sober stunt I pulled off. Why, I fairly longed to laugh and say, You don't know troubles. You can't tell Me, man, that you drink every day For breakfast, ah, I shudder, well, If I must say the word I will ! Chickory ! If you drink Chickory For breakfast, then you know the way Of trouble, and I'll listen. That's the test, The one last weight to justly weigh All woes is always jest To one who has drunk Chickory In France. Oh, did you say, Chickory? Well, that is trouble! EACH DAY PRESS ON Each day is glorious ! 'Tis as a page An angel writes of truest love to me, Each day is glorious ! God made men free ! 1B7 TRAVEL ORDERS I HAD A PIECE OF WHITE BREAD I had a piece of white bread, Over in France one day. I felt hke a king and I ate it Proudly, I'll tell you. Say, You will never know till you're there, too, With the British Army, the way I ate that white bread right where, too, There were Tommies with war bread !- Nay, nay. Don't ask me to tell you the reason I kept it myself. Can't you see To give it away — oh, such treason! America gave it to me, — An American soldier, I said. Gave me one piece of white bread. I had a piece of white bread. Over in France one day. 158 PRESS ON GUIDANCE If I but write, I pray : Guide Thou my hand, Thou great Jehovah. In this barren land Of self where'er I walk, I ask God, too, To guide me safely all my journey through. I LIVED TWO DAYS IN PARIS ON TV/ENTY-EIGHT FRANCS I lived two days in Paris on twenty-eight francs. And, then, I moved right on. Two days in Paris on twenty-eight francs For eats. There is no light on. Not a calcium light, on the bed I slept In that night. It was just a chair In a hotel lobby but I kept Half of my twenty-eight francs right where I needed it, for eats the coming day. Then, the next evening, I moved away In search of my company. United States of America, June 9, 1919. 169 TRAVEL ORDERS I SOMEHOW MISSED THE COWS MOST I somehow missed the cows most over there In France. At evening, I would let My thoughts drift back to them. I knew my share Of happiness was not to quite forget All things back here, and, so, I'd often say: "I miss the cows most now that I'm away." I somehow never dared ever to think Of people there but for the cows I knew I'd never sob nor cry, I'd often wink. At that, to keep the tears back. Sure, it's true. And I am not ashamed to tell you ! There, I missed the cows ! I never can forget Just how I'd sit at night and really care To see the cows ! Dear cows, I love them yet, Perhaps because I'd think at night and say: "I miss the cows most now that I'm away." 160 PRESS ON PEACE I do not ask, at any price, for peace. I ask for peace through giving all, — yea, all. I ask for life and health and joy, all these Is what I know I have and hence I call For mine own heritage. A FRIEND I found a friend through service, then I knew He was a friend who must be ever true. I found a friend through service. 161 TRAVEL ORDERS MY SON IS VERY HUMAN My son is very human since he's home again. He helps me with the washing and he makes his bed. Sometimes I almost wonder why he isn't vain When he wipes the dishes for me, so I was led Tonight to ask him why he was a-helping me. He lifted me high, high up in his arms and said: "Muddy, are you blind with mustard-gas? Can't you see That wiping dishes for you is the greatest fun?" So very sweet and human is my son. My son is very human since he's home from war, Very kind and human, so very sweet and glad ! Why he will sweep and dust and scrub and do much more Than he's ever asked to do for me or Dad. Last night his Daddy told him it was strange but he Couldn't understand his boy. My son said : ''Say, You call this I am doing, work. It's fun for me. I'm seeing right at last. Before I went away 162 TRAVEL ORDERS I didn't know one-half the downright fun I'd get In doing little chores around the place for you And helping dear, sweet Muddy. Now, don't once forget Vm pleasing just myself in doing this. It's true!" Yes, my son is very sweet and human! A SEVENTY-FIVE My brother sent a shell back home to me, A Seventy-Five! I wish you could see That shell ! I'd hke it better, too, if it Wasn't all carved and dolled up. It would fit My fancy better if 1 had have been Right where they fired those shells And led my men farther and farther past the German line. I tell yx)u souvenirs are truly fine But not so fine as real things. Anyway, If I'd been old enough, I'd found a way To get to France. Brother writes : ^'Believe me. There's no place quite like old Amerikee!" United States of America, May 17, 1919. 163 PKESS ON STEPHEN AND THE WORLD "The Word of God increased," the Scriptures tell, "And Stephen," ever "full of faith and power" Gave praise and raised the dead and made them well. Within the Synagogue, then there arose Blasphemers and cursed him for his ways Of peace. False witnesses were set up, too, to speak Laments against the changes Christ must bring, — Changes of cursed customs, frail and weak. All in the council looked in Stephen's face, And saw it chastened with the suffering That turns one's thought away from earth to God. The face was of an angel in the place Where persecution seemed to reign. The rod Threat'ning o'er Stephen, then became a law, A rule, that chiseled clearly every trace Into, dear World, the sweetest angel's face. 164 TRAVEL ORDERS THE GLORIOUS AGE OF DISAGREE- MENT Old Si Simpkins was always said to be A sharper. If he could, 'twas said, He got the best of everyone. To me, Since I came back from war, I do not call him crooked any more. He is the fairest man I ever saw. I heard him in an argument one day. And I took Si's part, silently. My Paw And him were most at outs, and, say, the way Si talked ! Right up and down ! "What does it say In the agreement we have written? We Knew what we both were doing. I declare," Said Si, "that anything on earth is fair That is signed up and sealed. You can't do more Or better than to stick to your own word, Just as it's written." Paw showed Si the door. But paid him just the same that very night. Because Paw so agreed and right is right. Live up to what you sign and seal. The might Of what you put in writin' you can do ; And when you've done that, then, by heck, you're through! You're honest! Angels ain't yet understood On earth but if one came and signed A deed or an agreement, then he should 166 TRAVEL ORDERS Live up to it, and never change his mind, Except in things where he ain't signed his name, He can change these without a speck of shame. There ain't no human goodness anywhere. Just do what you have signed and you are square. Before I went to war, I didn't dare To disagree with Paw in anything, But now that I have fought, I see just where I was mistaken. All war's suffering Was not in vain if, fearlessly, I can Agree to disagree with any man. Even my Paw. Speakin' of a crook, it is the one Who signs a paper sayin' that he knew You meant a diff'rent thing. A thing that's done And signed and sealed is all on earth that's true. About their moral rights, all crooks complain. Jest to be gittin' more for their own gain. Follow the written word. What if my Paw Should ever read these things that I have said! I'll bet that he would try to smash my head. 166 TRAVEL ORDERS Well, supposin' he did, everyone's fightin' and disagreein' now In this glorious age of disagreement, and, anyhow, I love and respect my Paw a whole lot more since I've been brave enough To disagree with him. NOBODY LOVES A CASUAL Nobody loves a casual. I was one Over in St. Ann, too. Nobody loves a casual, I am done With being one, I'll tell you ! Over in France, I lost, one day My company, and say, the way They treated me! Nobody cares to be A casual. I cannot see A single joy in being a casual. In France or here. No, not for me. I'm done with being a casual! 167 PRESS ON IRELAND'S PART IN THE Vv^AR She stayed at home, and this was truly best. For centuries, this wounded warrior-land Had need of quietude and thoughtful rest. She needed so to trust and take the hand Of that blest Country Abraham hath sought, Love's Country where God reigneth over all. She stayed at home and balanced off the wrong Of centuries of sin and self. Truth's call Bade her to change her cry to Freedom's Song. She stayed at home and voiced but one de- mand, — Her freedom. Ages long, it has been so. From crushing weight of self that has bent low All nations, she has cried out to be free From superstition, famine, hatred, w^oe, From all of self's superiority, From domination, and, too, from the curse Of ownership, from bondage and from death Itself, and from sin's living death, or worse, She has called out for freedom with each breath During past ages. Let her stand for aye as earth's best friend. Among all lands — no treachery within Her consciousness, — a friend to give or lend To all alike. Throughout long stirring years. Hath she gained peace from self. Her cease- less pray'r, Exhalted, purified through cleansing tears. Hath lifted self to heaven everywhere. 168 TRAVEL ORDERS MOTHER AND DAD Mother and Dad are quarreling since I came home from France. They used to never have a word before I got the chance To go over and fight the demons that once were over the sea. This home ain't what it once was. It ain't what it used to be. Mother and Dad are quarreling and I wonder what it means. It seems as though I was sleepin' and havin' all sorts of dreams. I wonder if my Dad is wrong and if Mother is in the right. It keeps me always a-guessin' from mornin' till late at night. My mother used to be afraid to ever anger Dad Until I came back from overseas and now it seems she had Rather make him mad than to please him. I wonder just the same If Mother is always in the right and Dad is all to blame. My Mother used to compromise before I went away. I've seen her yield almost her life rather than have a fray But now she don't yield anything. Things must be so and so. It seems like a world turned upside down which I nevermore shall know. 169 TRAVEL ORDERS It seems like a world turned upside down but mebby it's for the best And mebby love isn't love at all unless it can stand the test Of saying every unkind and cuttin' thing to everyone in sight. I am wondering if Dad is in the wrong and Mother is in the right. I am wondering, too, if all those years when I was a little tad And Mother was tryin' to please my Dad, I am wondering if she had The right of it then when she used to smile when Dad would curse and swear. I am wondering if Mother was in the right not to rise up and rave and tear. I am glad that Mother has learned to fight even though she's in the wrong. There's nothing quite so happy-like as to fight one's way along. Mother is looking happier than when she used to smile. And try to sweeten my Daddy up all of the livelong while. I've noticed, too, that mother's clothes are the very best in town. They used to be the shabbiest. Is the world all upside down? Has it all come about from fightin' the demons over the sea ? Must we always here be a-fightin' the demons in you and me? 170 TRAVEL ORDERS What is it meaning, anyway? Is it right to quarrel and fight? Is my Dad forever in the wrong and is Mother always right? Dad used to be the meanest man alive but he's good as pie, These days when Mother is fightin'. I surely wonder why. I saw Daddy kiss my Mother and hand her a dollar bill Without her asking a cent from him. Surely wonders never will Cease in these days of wonders. From morn- ing till late at night, I'm wondering if Dad is still in the wrong and Mother is always right. 171 TRAVEL ORDERS FATHER'S MUCH, MUCH KINDER Father's much, much kinder since Billy came from war. He's patienter and sweeter than he's ever been before. He used to scold and rave about and make me sob and cry Or else I used to go about with heavy heart and sigh. His scoldin' me was sudden-like and over anything I couldn't help at all, most like, — if Mary lost her ring. Or if I even needed a simple, gingham dress, If Johnnie came from School late, If the cows were lost, I guess He thought the women-folks should see this whole world should run straight. So Father used to scold me from morning un- til late At night. Billy told us how they used to sing, those doughboys over there Whenever they were forced to give their lives, yes, sing, right where They had to give up all on earth. Father coughed awhile. I wept At all the little stories Billy told of those who kept Their feet a-going straight and true through cheer and song and joy. Dear God, what strange, strange hymns they sang : "Your head down, Fritzie Boy." 172 TRAVEL ORDERS Well, Father hasn't scolded since he heard of this but once, And then Fll say I should have been a- scolded! Like a dunce I let the chicken burn like cinders in the oven, too, Before my eyes on Sunday and I didn't even do One thing. I should have been a-scolded. Father raved and swore and said : "What do you mean! Such carelessness!" Right then, he stopped. We heard A voice a-singin' from the barn and not an- other word Would Father say. 'Twas Billy singin' loud and high and clear. Well, Father turned and looked at me and whispered, ''Hark, my dear!" ''Keep your head down, Fritzie Boy. Keep your head down, Fritzie Boy." Dear God, what strange, strange hymns they sang of wondrous, healing joy! Since Father's stopped a-scoldin' me, we've paid each debt we owe. A cousin came to visit us and stayed six months or so. And left two hundred dollars. Well, Father he was glad But not so much as I am that he don't scold and get mad At me, since Billy came from war. 173 TRAVEL ORDERS TEN DAYS AT BREST I spent ten days at Fort du Bouguen, Down there near Brest, — ten days, — eternity ! I found then that the war had not been won. At least it never had been won by me. It was dark, rainy, lonesome in that place, That fort which crowned a high hill over there. Ten days of watching sky and sea ! The space Between me and my home seemed endless, too, — Ten days in Brest without a thing to do. I spent ten days surrounded by that wall Which Richelieu had built. I could not tell You if I tried of those motes, gates and all Those forts. They seemed the barriers of hell. I was a casual, — ^they were, 'tis true. The men who won the war, yet I regret To say even in telling this to you. They won the war, and still they never get In France one kindly look. They are no more Than outcasts with the Prussian prisoners, — Those very casuals who won the war. I spent ten days there, overlooking Brest Without ten centimes. I was broke, that's all. I never can complain again ! The best 174 TRAVEL ORDERS Or worst in life can't move me since the call Of those dull whistles on the ships which sailed Without me was the saddest earthly thing ; And that one ship which took me, — though all failed, In life, this gladdest, brightest hour would bring Me joy enough forever and a day. Ten days in Brest and then I sailed away. 176 TRAVEL ORDERS BROTHER— THE NEW WATCH ON THE RHINE Brother writes that he is playing Baseball near the Rhine, — Way up on a fort, he's saying, The grounds are surely fine. Brother says the Rhine is flowing. Just as it used to do, And the Moselle grapes are growing. And turning red and blue. Brother writes each day he's praying For travel orders west. And he saj^s that he is staying Reluctantly. The best ; To do, is to play and wait there For travel orders home. He says they are coming late there. He surely hopes they'll come. Brother says the Rhine is flowing. Just as it used to do. And the Moselle grapes are growing. And turning red and blue. Brother writes the boys are basking All day, — they're fit and fine! And he says each one is asking To move on. On the Rhine This is now the new watch ever. The boys watch every day They're watching the flowing river, And watch for aye the way Of crossing the valley Moselle, T'w^ard Trier, on t'ward home. 176 TRAVEL ORDERS All is quiet there, and all's well. I surely hope they'll come. Brother says the Rhine is flowing, Just as it used to do. And the Moselle grapes are growing, And turning red and blue. Brother writes that he is praying For travel orders west. And he says that he is staying Reluctantly. The best ; To do is to play and wait there For Travel Orders home. He says they are coming late there. He surely hopes they'll come. 17^ PRESS ON HOME The Tribes of Israel are home once more. Go, open wide for them to-day each door, And bid them enter. Give them wine and bread, The bread of heav'n, and wine of living Truth, The Tribes of Israel each hour are led To life eternal. Now unchanging youth Is theirs. Their song and pray'r: Press On! Press on and let God's will on earth be done. Press On! 178