Chapter II: Part 2

But good Sir Fang he did not go Far off to Hague or else he'd know That Peace Tribunals bring not "PEACE," Nor cause all bloody wars to cease; As every man from each strange land All other men can't understand E'en when the learned GO-BETWEEN Tries to explain and makes a scene.

Of mighty sword and mightier pen Poets have sung time and again, But they forgot in songs they sung To praise the power of a COMMON TONGUE, And ne'er will banners of PEACE be unfurled 'Till ESPERANTO rules over the world.

All The World Cries

(Written for Katherine Wellman, Evansville, Ind.)

"Quack-quack-quack-quack!" cries Auntie Duck, While Mother Hen goes "Cluck-cluck-cluck!" And Papa Dog cries, "Bowwow-wow," And Sister Cat, "Me-ow, me-ow!"

"Eek-eek- eek- eek!" squeals Grandma Pig, I'm growing, oh, so fat and big;" While "Cackle-cackle" all the day, The little goslings like to say.

Proud Grandpa Turkey struts along With his eternal gobble-song: Sir Horse he whinnies, "Hee-hee-hee!" And "buzzey-buzzey" goes Miss Bee. Sis Maud, the Mule, cries "Hee-hee-haw!" And Missy Crow goes "Caw-caw-caw!" Good Madam Cow cries, "Moo-moo-moo!" And gentle Doves they "Coo-coo-coo!" The Baby Lambs cry, "Baa-baa-baa!" And little Kids squeal, "Ma-ma-ma!"

Could Only Ask Questions

(Written for Miss Edna Speck, Evansville, Ind.)

"Madelaine," asked her mother, when home she came at noon, "How did you like your teacher, or can't you tell so soon?" MADELAINE. "Oh, yes, I formed my 'pinion long 'fore I started home, She's rather pleasant, looks quite wise, and wears a lovely comb, But surely she is stupid in spite of her wise looks, 'Cause she only asked us questions from out a lot of books.

Let The Bumble Be

(Written for Cousin Virginia Rehn.)

One day I saw a bumble bee bumbling on a rose, And as I stood admiring him he stung me on the nose. My nose in pain, it swelled so large it looked like a potato, So Daddy said, though Mother thought 'twas more like a tomato. And now dear children this advice I hope you'll take from me, And when you see a bumble bee just let that bumble be.

Take That Gum From Your Mouth And Put Your Feet In

(Written for Cousin Pauline Sackville.)

Young Susie was quite noted for having great large feet, And for working both her jaws, this maid could not be beat. Her wad of gum she always bore with her unto the school, Though well she knew she might be spanked, for 'twas against the rule, But skillfully she hid this gum, did naughty little Sue, Though oft' behind her little book she took a little chew, But once when she was building up a castle in the air, And thought she was a lady rich and most entrancing fair, While stretching out her legs and feet into the narrow aisle And thinking of sweet Bobby Jones, the maid began to smile. Then suddenly the teacher cried, above the school room's din, "Take that gum from out your mouth and put your feet right in."

The Tersest Bathing Suit

This story was told to the author by Mr. Marshall White,
Evansville, Ind.

When to the seashore Robert went, with Ma and Sister Nell, He met a wise professor, who soon taught him to spell, Likewise to read of fairy lore and use a real steel pen To write to his own father dear, who like most all the men Must ever stay at home and work to earn the cents to pay For wife and children's outing 'till the summer slips away.

Now all the strange, uncommon words which little Bob could find, He stored away and tried to keep in his small, active mind So as to use in writing notes to his dear fat old Dad, And when the big folks used strange words it made him very glad. So one day when of something TERSE he heard his sister tell, He asked her for its meaning and he thus rewarded Nell By writing to his father, dear, "Oh, Daddy, you should see Nell's awful TERSEST bathing suit, which won't reach to her knee."

Furs Lined With Kittens

(Written for Adaline Sherman, Wheeling. W. Va.)

Said a rich little girl, who was boasting one day, "I'ze too many furs, so I throws dem away," But her poor little friend, who fine furs had none, In braggadocia could not be outdone, And proudly she showed her little fur mittens And said, "I'ze sum odders, do deys lined wid kittens."

A Boy's Description Of A Goat

(Written for Cousin James Diller.)

When the teacher asked young Leo to write a little rhyme Describing some strange animal he'd seen at any time, He seized his long slate pencil and this is what he wrote About the common animal, which children call a goat: A goat is stronger than a pig, But often it is not as big. It has four legs just like a horse, But never runs on a race-course. It gives good milk, though not as much As cows and elephants and such, But more than any bull or ox, Rooster, ram, or sly old fox. Like any mule a goat likes hay And all tin cans we throw away. He's useful and I'm fond of him, But some good folks have a strange whim To hold their noses when he's near, And act as if they greatly fear To touch his fur which has the smell Of something I know very well. The odor I'd know anywhere, It's like Dad's tonic for his hair.

A Riddle

(Written for Miss Mame Leo, Erie, Pa.)

One night 'neath the light of a silvery moon There sat on a log pile a very fat coon And also a little most cunning brown fellow Eating of melon so juicy and mellow. The large robust coon and the wee little one Thought they were having a bushel of fun, And laughed very loudly in notes of pure glee, For they were as happy as happy could be.

So here is a riddle I'll give now to you, Guess the relations there was 'twixt the two.

ANSWER.

Most everyone answers, "Why, father and son." Not so--'twas a Mammy and her little one.

Grandpa's Head Cums Frew His Hair

(Written for Margaret Ruston, Evansville, Ind., and Mr. Wm. Warren
Newburg, Ind.)

When Margaret was a youngster scarcely two years old, At climbing chairs and tables this lass was very bold, And one day when her grandpa was seated in his chair She climbed upon the rounded rungs as if they were a stair, And looking at her Grandpa's head, which fast was growing bald, She cried out, "Dearest Grandpa, one time you must hab failed," Or maybe you've been naughty and dot an awful scare, Which taused de top ob yu's round head to tum right frew de hair.

Susan Rewarded For Twenty Year's Service

(Written for Dr. and Mrs. W. Baker, Terre Haute, Ind.)

Professor Theophilus Socrates Snook, One day paid a visit to Susan, his cook, And beaming upon her with kindliest look Said, "Susan, my dear, please gaze at tins book. In here you may learn of elephantiasis, And also the hookworm, uncinariasis; Of craw-craw and chiggers, of ainhum and sprue, And all that I've written about them is true. Now, Susan, to me you've been faithful, my dear, In keeping my house for many a year; For years nearly twenty you've been now with me, Cooking my victuals just as they should be, And truly I think a reward I should pay To one who has labored from day unto day. So when I discovered a wondrous new germ, Which causes young children to wiggle and squirm, I thought that this bug for you I would name And bring you great glory and honor and fame. It's a wondrous discovery, this ungomariasis, And so we will call it the SUSANBONPIASIS."

"No, thank you, your honor," said Susan Bawben, "I had the bugs once and don't want 'em again, And if you onsist upon callin' me BUGS, I'll lave you alone wid your books and your drugs."

Plate 5:

Bridget Makes Split Pea Soup

(Written for Lieutenant and Mrs. Arthur Crenshaw, U. S. N.)

"Bridget," asked the mistress, "whatever is the matter, Nothing ready for our Lunch excepting pancake batter? Why, I invited guests to come for lunch at half past one And they've been waiting all this time and yet there's nothing done."

"Well, mum," replied Miss Bridget, "the fault is all your own, For split pea soup you ordered and workin' here alone, It's took me most two hours while tryin' just to split Three hundred of these blarsted peas, which give me most a fit, And as there's still three hundred, 'twill take two hours more To split the pesky little things, shure as me name's MAHORE!"

Lazy White Men Sit While Flying Through The Air

Poor Lo, the Indian, disrespects his brothers wise and fair, Who now on aeroplanes are wont to make trips through the air. He watches them go circling like birds up in the skies, Then grunts, "Heap lazy white man, he sits down when he flies."

To Save Him From A Whipping

(Written for Howard Roosa, Evansville, Ind.)

When Mrs. Hall, who had spent the day With Mrs. Greene, was going away, Wee curly headed naughty Joe Begged so hard that she wouldn't go.

Now all the day this roguish lad Had disobeyed and been quite bad, So Mrs. Hall, in great surprise, Paused and looked in his brown eyes, While saying, "I'm so glad to know You love me truly, dearest Joe."

"Oh, 'tisent that," said honest Joe, "I wouldn't mind for you to go Except my mother said to-day, She'd whip me when you went away."

A Skillet In Society (Alias A Chafing Dish)

(Written for Mrs. Katherine Brown, Indianapolis, Ind.)

I heard my mother, just to-day, asking dear old dad, To buy her a nice chafing-dish and make her very glad; Though he declared its cooking was a waste of alcohol, Causing indigestion and perhaps a doctor's call. I inner saw a chafing-dish and so I longed to know How it looked and what 'twas for and so and so and so; But mother would not answer and daddy went away, So I sought the kitchen, where Bridget holds her sway, And asked her if she ever saw, since she began to cook, A chafing-dish on pantry shelf or pictured in a book? Then Bridget turned her pug nose up with a "contempshus" air, And gave a twist to her small knot of brick dust colored hair, And said, "A chafing-dish, my dear, so says Miss B. Moriety, Is but a common skillet pan that's got in High Society."

Autos Change Good Luck

(Written for Uncle Cicero Stoner.)

Poor Uncle Zeke, he's very sad, and says the whole world's wrong, For when he was a little boy it was a common song, To sing about the luck which came from finding a horse shoe, And in those good old lucky days the sign was always true.

But Sunday when poor Uncle Zeke was walking on the street, He saw a lucky horseshoe which was lying at his feet, And as he stooped to seize the prize which lay before him there, Along an automobile came and whizzed him in the air.

To-day I saw him lying still and pale upon his couch, And oh, my goodness gracious, but he had an awful grouch! His hands and arms in bandages were tied securely up, And on his forehead was a bump like Aunt Mariah's cup.

He told me I should listen well and take his counsel sage, And never try to get good luck in this fierce auto age, By picking up a horse's shoe in street or country road No more than I would stoop to seize a common green back toad.

A Boy Who Was Hero And villian

(Written for Uncle Ernest, Sackville.)

One day in a big meeting held by a MERCY-BAND, The leader asked each little boy to hold up his right hand If he could tell of any deed of kindness he had done In saving some poor animal or helping any one. Then Ernest held his hand on high and pride suffused his face, As from his seat he quickly rose and took the speaker's place, While speaking loud in accents clear, "I saved a little pup Who had his tail in a tin can all tied securely up. I took the can from off his tail and made him bark with joy, So mother said and so said dad--I was a darling boy."

"And so say I," the leader said, while calling him her "DEAR," "But how I wish the wicked boy who did the deed was here." ERNEST. "Well, here he is, for I'm the boy who did that deed as well, So I could take the tin can off and of my goodness tell."

Wise Ignatius Escapes A Whipping

(Written for Edgar and Melville Garvin, Evansville, Ind.)

"Father," said learned Ignatius, as the strap was preparing to fall Down on his trouserless bare-skin, "I don't mind a whipping at all, But are you quite certain, dear father, the strap has been well sterilized For virulent germs in old leather are often concealed and disguised; And surely by violent impact with textile and soft porous skin, But lately exposed to the street's dust there's danger of entering in Upon my most delicate system, and then comes the big doctor's fee, So dear father show you're a wise man and touch not that strap upon me."

While the learned youth plead, lo! his father upon that dread strap loosed his hold, And thus he escaped from a whipping, Ignatius, the wise and the bold.

Nervous Jelly

(Written for Charles Donnelly, Evansville, Ind.)

One day when there was company, wee greedy Lillie May, Took the jelly nearly all when it was passed her way; And in great haste she ate it up with her small silver spoon, But oh, alas, the Piggiewig! she was discovered soon By mother, who was greatly shocked to see her naughty elf Eating like a greedy boy from off the kitchen shelf. But mother couldn't scold aloud for fear the guest would hear, And so she softly whispered, "Don't eat that way, my dear." Then Mrs. Dean, the company, she patted Lillie's head, And smiling at the jellied face, she to the culprit said, "I've always liked the jelly good which makes my bread so sweet, And surely it tastes better still when with a spoon we eat This lovely, wobbling dainty, which is loved by one and all, From little girls and tiny boys to great men, large and tall." This speech encouraged Lillie May, who nodded her wise head And said, "Besides dis jelly is too nervous for to spread."

One Johnson More, One Smith Less

(Written for Salibelle Royster, Smith's Mills, Kentucky.)

When Zekiel Rastus Johnson had the courage to propose To lovely Miss Amanda Smith, she turned up her flat nose And said, "Now Rastus Johnson, how dare you ask of me" To change my 'ristocratic name and Mrs. Johnson be, When now in the directory, the Johnsons are ahead Of our most noted family, so 'course I would not wed With you to make one Johnson more to swell the Johnson line, While Smiths in number take back seats where they can never shine.

Plate 6:

Pride

(Written for St. Nicholas, June, 1909.)

The Bible says that pride's the cause of people falling down, And an example of this truth I once saw in our town, When we were driving on the street and watching passers-by, From out a store stepped a fine dude, all dressed in silk hat high, And pants so tight he could not take a single manly stride, His moustache curled and round his neck a ribbon pink and wide, While in his hand a gold head cane, which he twirled round and round, So that the people all would know a great man was in town; But being filled with pride of self he did not know his heel Had come in contact with a part of a banana peel Until it felled him to the earth and smashed his silk hat's crown And even then he did not know 'twas PRIDE that knocked him down.

Job Smarter Than Modern Babies

"Mother," said Lida, "why can't brother speak, Is he so stupid or only just weak, Like poor ancient Grandma, when she has a cold, And loses her voice so she can't even scold?"

"No, darling," said mother, "your brother can't talk, Eat sugar candy, nor even yet walk, As he is a baby the size of your doll, And babies can't talk when they are so small."

"Then, mother," said Lida, "the kids nowadays Are not half so smart in all of their ways As babies who lived in the long, long ago, For dear teacher told me (so 'course it is so,) That Job in the Bible cursed the day he was born, I 'spose like big Tom, when he can't play his horn."

Only Naughty Children See "Spooks" On Hallow'een

(Written for Aunt Winifred Broad,
Stockleigh Pomeroy, England.)

Witches and goblins, spooks and elves, With sprites and gnomes from elf-land delves, To-night are flying here and there, Yes, up and down and everywhere. For this one night in all the year, They rule the earth and bring great fear To all the naughty little boys Who tease good girls and break their toys.

These spooks they also make girls sad When they are selfish, cross and bad; So when it's dark, bad boys and maids They see these awful fearsome shades, And that is why with covered heads, They trembling lie in their warm beds.

But even there, they goblins see, Spooks, and gnomes and all that be Abroad upon weird Hallow'een, When all the wizards may be seen By naughty kids and grown up folks, Who like to play most wicked jokes.

But good young girls and gentle boys, The kids who are their mothers' joys, They like the dark just as the light, For spooks ne'er come within their sight, And in their dreams the lovely elves Show them bright scenes from fairy delves.

So, if to-night you are afraid Of any spook or any shade, We'll know you are a naughty child, So cross and willful, rude and wild.

Six Year Old Girl Writes Poem Hoping To Save Forest Trees

(From "The Woman's National Daily.")

The following rhyme was written by a little 6-year-old-girl in hopes to save a beautiful forest near Evansville, Ind., and to help the Children's Outing Farm. A short account of the little girl's work as an Esperantist appeared in a recent issue of The National Daily and a number of articles concerning her abilities as a linguist have appeared in other publications.

She is the youngest child in the world holding a diploma from Dr. Zamenhof for being able to read, write and speak in Esperanto, and she also speaks French as well as English.

This little girl, who was born in Norfolk, Va., has been a lover of books since her babyhood days. She knew Mother Goose by heart when but 1 year of age and learned to read when but 2. At 4 she read Lamb's Tales of Shakespeare and had finished the fifth reader. A few months ago she was sent to school, but could not be graded, as she could read, write and spell anything, but knew nothing of arithmetic. The noted mathematician, Mrs. Hornbrook, of Chicago, having met the little girl at Chautauqua, N. Y., and knowing of her mental powers, asked to instruct her in this branch, and she soon taught her the rudiments of arithmetic.

She is the daughter of Dr. J. B. Stoner, Surgeon in the Public Health and Marine Hospital Service, and Winifred Sackville Stoner, President of the Woman's Esperanto League.

An Appeal To The Fairies

Good Fairies, save the lovely trees which live on Coal Mine Hill! Their home has been your home so long, your hearts with grief would fill Should stout men armed with axes come and fell them to the earth, These monarchs of the forest, these jewels of great worth. The giant oaks and stately elms, the rulers of this wood, Have watched the growth of Evansville and helped it as they could. They gave their shade and soft bright leaves to make a downy nest To shelter the first baby boy that Evansville possessed. Before this city had a church in which both bad and good Could ask forgiveness of the Lord, they worshipped in this wood; And those who love the beautiful and lovely scenes to see, They climb upon this grassy hill and stand beneath some tree, While gazing far as eye can reach to fair Kentucky's lands, Or looking at the river shore on which our city stands. Above their heads the bright blue sky, green grass beneath their feet, And all around a lovely scene such as we seldom meet; Green pastures with cows grazing, broad river flowing by, And many tall church spires lifted toward the sky. No fitter place for children nor grown-up folks could be Than on this lovely Coal Mine Hill where Nature we may see. 'Tis here the little orphans and poor children all around Find the greatest pleasures which in this woods abound. So, dearest, kindest Fairies, please rescue these grand trees, And save them for the children--we ask you on our knees.

THE END