Chapter IV: Part 4

I'm a New Year's Resolution:
You can see me robed in white
Where the fortunes of the future
Men and nations come to write;
You have met my kith and kindred
As you struggled in the strife,
And you gave them love and praises
All along the ways of life.

I'm a New Year's Resolution:
I'm as good as good can be,
And the fates predict my goodness
Soon will prove the death of me;
But you'll honor me while living,
And if I should pass away
You will bury me in blossoms
In remembrance of today.

I'm a New Year's Resolution:
Treat me kindly as you can;
For I'm growing weak each moment,
Starved to death by cruel man;
Soon I'll sleep among my fathers,--
What a countless host they make!
Who in childhood went to slaughter
For a good intention's sake!

Little Sermons.

One lapse from sunshine makes the whole world sin.

If you want to pluck nose-gays, you must wander in the sunshine to find the flowers.

The Devil would rather tackle a a good man in a discouraged mood than a hardened criminal with Hope singing in his heart.

A Hard World.

"Ah done tole yuh, Mose, howebber yuh fix it up, dat dis hyar am a mighty hahd wohld we lib in?" said one colored brother to another.

"How am dat, Sambo?"

"Why, we am allus habin' ouah troubles. No soonah am de Santa Claus bills paid, den de legislachuh come erlong en stay foh sixty whole days!" and he shook his head and refused to be comforted.

A Quartette of Don'ts.

Don't sleep too much. Remember what happened to Adam when he tried an experiment of that kind.

Don't talk too mean about the Devil. There is no telling how soon he may have the chance to roast you to a turn.

Don't neglect your privileges, brethren. There is more opportunity to get through the eye of a needle in the collection baskets than in the sermon.

Don't worry any about the dead. The good Lord will take care of them, and they don't cause him half as much sitting up at nights as the living do, and he always knows where to find them when the curfew blows.

It Died Young.

"Did you make a Good Resolution, Sandy?" inquired the inquisitive neighbor.

"Yes, but it didn't live long."

"Why, how's that?"

"Well, the good die young, you know, and when I went home that night I found it had crossed the river when I wasn't watching."

To the Love Lands!

O, my Heart, the days are weary with the burdens that we know:
Hand in hand we'll haste and hurry to the Love Lands long ago!

Let us stroll as happy lovers down the roaring ways of men
Till the lilies of contentment blossom sweetly once again.

It was there we wove our Daydream, it was there the Promise sung,
For the world from us was hidden and our little lives were young.

There were happy lanes of laughter that our childish rambles knew,
Where the roses gave their glories in a ruddy crown for you.

Let us wander through the deserts and the dusty ways they know
To the green fields and the meadows of the Love Lands long ago!

On the road, perchance, we'll gather some of sweetness and of song,
As we thread the dim aisles fearful and the pathways lorn and long.

You remember how we pledged us all the glories of renown,--
Pledged the gold of Ind and Ophir and the greatness of the crown.

You remember how we pledged us in the fancies of our youth,
We would run the quest forever for the Holy Grail of Truth!

You remember how we pledged us we would banish want and woe,
As we laughed and sang the love-song in the Love Lands long ago!

What if we have failed to keep it?
Hard the struggle, fierce the throng,
And the shoutings of the rabble drown the glory of the song!

What if we have failed to keep it?
All the maddened mobs of hate
Hurl the stones of mirth and malice where Truth opes her timid gate!

Shall we sorrow at the wreckage that is heaped along the shore
Where the waters gnaw unceasing and endeavor sails no more!

Shall we sorrow that the laughters, left the shadows of the way,
And the cares of life unlifting fringed the rosy skies with gray?

Shall we sorrow without comfort for the dreams that fled in tears,--
For the hopes forlorn and shattered on the shores of other years?

We have lost the glare and glamor of the dreams we dreamed of old,
But the Wise of earth have brought us of their frankincense and gold.

We have lost the green of May-time, but the autumn gardens red
Hang with all the fruited wisdom for the blossoms that are dead!

We have lost our foolish boasting,--we are cleansed of evil pride,
And we face the past and future with their vistas wild and wide!

Still, my Heart, the days are heavy!
Wisdom weights and wearies so!
Let us run away together to the Love Lands long ago!

Caught on the Fly.

Beauty is not always skin-deep. Sometimes it is put on with a rag.

If you don't want Trouble to bring her dogs and hunt all over your place for game, you should tack up warning signs over every fence-post on the premises.

Lots of money is said to bring lots of trouble. But, Lord, our shoulders are mighty broad and we always did think we would like to have experiences of that kind.

Trudge Along.

Trudge along, my brother,
Through the snows!
Over yonder wait the summer
And the rose.

Trudge along, my brother,
Trudge along!
Over yonder wait the angels
And the song!

A Fine Job.

"Ah done tole yuh, Mose, howsomevah de people conflastahgate, dese heah legislachuh pohsishuns am sho'ly de bes' places in all de wide woahld dat a cullahed man ebber had in de wintah time when de wood am skeerce en de snow flyin' high!"

"How come, Rastus?"

"Why, yuh fool niggah yuh, doan't yuh see dat Ah git foh dollahs a day jes' toh open en shut de dooah befoh en aftah de Sanatohs when dey come in en go out foh erbout two houahs a day, en den sot down by de hot fiah all de res' ob de time while anothah niggah shubbles in de coal whut anothah niggah totes in at de same good price!"

A True Hero.

He wore no crown, he had no sword,
He sat him in no throne of state;
He shed no blood, he spent no hoard,
And therefore was not great;
Yet to his tomb the nations throng:
His heart was love, he sang a song!

When Trouble comes to your front gate and hears you whistling in the back-yard it scares him so bad that he never stops running till he crosses the divide into the next settlement.

Little Sermons.

Taking it all up and down, this world is a pretty good place. Only so many of us never get up or down!

Lord, we don't ask to see a thousand miles ahead. All we want is light enough to keep out of the holes two feet ahead when the Devil gets after us.

Some folks are always boasting of how many miles they keep ahead of the Devil, but I'm always thankful when I just manage to keep out of his reach when he's grabbing at me.

Never Mind the Hills.

What matter the hills above us?
What matter the dismal road?
We're climbing to those that love us
And crossing to their abode;
And over the mountains we'll crown our quest
With beautiful blossoms of all that's best!

He Voted "Graft".

He was quite a famous statesman
From a district where the folk
Were so honest that their honor
Had become a standing joke;
But this man that represented
Such a people, such a craft,
Always shouted for "retrenchment,"
While he always voted "graft."

He was quite a famous "poser,"
And he had the nimble art
Of deluding men to thinking
That he owned an honest heart;
He was always hinting "boodle,"
At which hints the lobby laughed
For they knew he talked "retrenchment,"
But he always voted "graft!"

He was frequent in the papers
With a lengthy interview
'Bout the "welfare of the people,"
And the "octopi" he knew;
And he made long-winded speeches
As he raked things fore and aft,
But he only talked "retrenchment,"
While he always voted "graft!"

O, the dear, deluded people,
Hear this Sermon from the Mount:
When a Bill is up for passage
It is only votes that count;
And you'd better watch the fellow
On the legislative raft
Who forever talks "retrenchment,"
And then casts a vote for "graft!"

Caught on the Fly.

The worst thing about failure is that it makes so many good people most unhappy.

The man who never laughs at all is as great a trial to his friends as is the one who laughs too much.

No beauty of Nature, either of heart or flower or fruit, was ever grown without the lavish use of sunshine for its development.

Joy is Here.

What to us is Trouble?
Joy is here today;
Care is but a bubble
Bursting with the May.

Onward we are drifting;
What if skies are gray?
All the clouds are lifting,--
Joy is here today!

Harbors over yonder;
Billows die away;
There we all shall anchor,--
Joy for aye and aye!

Something Left.

There's joy in Oklahoma!
Let's go it good and strong;
There's sunshine on the prairies,
The land is glad with song;
What though the cotton tumbled,--
What if the wheat was short?
We've corn for hog and hominy
Of every blessed sort!

Charity not only covers a multitude of sins, but she also tucks the quilts in around the feet and gets up in the middle of the night to see if the blanket is on straight.

Not Afraid.

"Aren't you afraid some of these lobbyists will persuade you by their eloquence into supporting some bad measure?" asked a friend of a member of the legislature.

"Not a bit of it, sir, not a bit of it! Just let them try it as often as they wish!" answered the confident statesman. "Just let me get at them one by one, privately, in a dark room with their pockets bulging with the eloquent long-green, and when they get away their pockets will be so dumb that they will be in no condition to make arguments again until they call on their employers for a new supply of oratory!"

A Blazing Future.

What's the use of getting blue
When the joys are so amazing?
This life's sunshine through and through
And the other life is blazing!

I have often noticed that the dog which uses up all his spare time in growling generally looks mighty hungry and seldom trees any game.

The Legislative Pass.

I'm a Legislative Pass:
I'm a wonder now displayed
In a large and growing class
Marching out on dress parade;
I am issued "on request"
From a statesman full of might,
And I'll never know a rest
Till adjournment is in sight.

I'm a Legislative Pass:
I am given free as air,
And I reach from shortest grass
To the farthest every where;
I am happy in the fame
That around me fondly flits,
Just to keep the statesmen tame
Till the Legislature quits.

I'm a Legislative Pass:
I have wondrous work to do,
And I use the mighty mass
Of my glories daily, too;
I'm considered pretty nice
By the hundreds of my friends,
That I carry without price
Till the Legislature ends.

I'm a Legislative Pass:
I'm the master of the state,
While the people think, alas!
They are something wise and great;
Treat me kindly every day,
As I summon dear delight
Down the legislative way
Till adjournment is in sight.

I'm a Legislative Pass:
Fly with me,--there's no expense,--
From the weary ways of gas
And the halls of eloquence;
Let us travel far and fast!
Soon we'll journey nevermore!
For I know my day is past
When the Legislature's o'er!

Little Sermons.

The dog that believes in you is more inspiration than the tawny lion that distrusts you.

It was all right for the Christ to say, "Get thee behind me, Satan," but I'd rather keep him on in front where I can watch his tricks.

The man of most exemplary habits never finds congenial spirits to herd with. The marvel is not that Christ was crucified, but that he was allowed to live till he was thirty-three years old.

At Rest.

Fold the hands and let him rest!
He shall sorrow nevermore;
Grief has done her worst and best,
But his grief is o'er!

What to him the dangers dark,--
Terrors of the waveless stream?
God shall guide the helpless barque
Through the shadowed dream!

He has fought with storm and strife,
He has conquered, all alone;
He has plucked the rose of life
For his very own.

Farewell to the world of sighs!
He has laid the burden down;
Here each grief and sorrow dies,
And he claims the crown!

Caught on the Fly.

Fate is blamed with all the failures for which laziness is responsible.

The world may owe you a living, but you'll never be able to collect it till you foreclose the mortgage by hard hustling.

However late some people get up in the morning, they always have plenty of time to spare for other people's business before bedtime.

With a Song.

No matter what the weeping,
No matter what the wrong,
Just toss a kiss to trouble
And soothe him with a song.

When all the world is winter
And storms unceasing throng,
Just clasp your hands with sunshine
And warm them up with song.

When fortune flies the window
And leaves you lonely long,
Still hum the happy music
And sing it out in song.

The summer time is coming,--
Is coming good and strong!
A welcome for the roses,
A greeting full of song!

O, life is filled with shadows,
And sorrow still is strong;
But walk the ways with laughter
And climb the hills with song!

Live your own life so happily to yourself that neither men, women or devils can swerve you one degree from the divine light shining upon your direct pathway to the stars.

De Hant!

I.

De Hant he come en hollah f'um de honey-locus' tree:
"Ah'd thank yuh, Mistah Niggah, foh dat money yuh owe me!"
But Ah gib Mis' Sal a banjo, en a silky scarf toh Chloe,
En de cotton's sho'ly squandah'd en dat's all dis niggah know!

II.

De Hant he come en hollah f'um de bahn's ole gable deep:
"Whah's dat New Yaar Resolution dat Ah gib you-all toh keep?"
But Ah kep' it en Ah kep' it, twel ole Satan come erlong,
En dat New Yaar Resolution got a move on mighty strong!

III.

De Hant he come en hollah right above de cabin doo':
"What yuh done wif all dem good t'ings dat Ah tole yuh 'bout befo?"
En Ah dassent answeh nothin'! En de ole Hant stay en stay!
When dis niggah wuzzent lookin', all dem good things run away!

Caught on the Fly.

When Hope comes on the scene, Trouble has urgent business over in the next settlement.

Don't wait to plant a flower for your neighbor until it has to blossom beside his tomb-stone.

Growling at the weather may give the tongue plenty of exercise, but it never buys meat and potatoes or swells the bank account.

Be confident. No coward heart ever won an important battle, and the battle-field of life is the one that demands the fullest courage.

Little Sermons.

Be thankful as long as there is a buttered side to your bread; and when the butter runs out, thank God for the bread!

Charity covers the sins all right, but many a poor sinner gets mighty short of blankets in the cold winter times of folly.

One heart of love and two glad lips of song have lifted many a mediocre soul up the slopes of happiness to the bright, eternal morning.

That New Year Resolution.

Dat New Yaar Resolution
He come to me en say:
"Ah likes de looks ob dis heah place,--
Ah hope yuh'll lemme stay!"

O, listen, listen, bruddehs!
Ah axed de angel in;
Ole Satan come en raised a row,
Ah tuhned him out again!

Dat New Yaar Resolution,
He scrumpshus company;
But dat fust day Ah's satisfied
He all too good foh me!

O, listen, listen, bruddehs!
A'll nebbeh tole yuh why,
But when ole Satan come erlong
Ah knowed it hed toh die!

Dat New Yaar Resolution!
Ah hollahed toh him: "Say!
Dis house am mighty crowded;
Ah wush yuh'd go erway!"

O, listen, listen, bruddehs!
Ah choke him in de th'oat;
En when ole Satan come erlong,
He wrop him in his coat!

"Said Governor Tom."

Said Governor Tom to the law-making boys:
"You are green at the bus'ness, I know;
It is well that you move rather slow;
If you'll let me advise,
You'll be worthy and wise,
And the people secure in their joys,--"
Said Governor Tom to the boys.

Said Governor Tom to the law-making boys:
"I will warn you of dangers that lurk
In the ways of your dangerous work;
If the lobbies entice,
You should take my advice,
And turn a deaf ear to their noise,--"
Said Governor Tom to the boys.

Said Governor Tom to the law-making boys:
"In the passing of measures immense
Is involved quite a lot of expense,
And the armies that stand
When there's peace in the land
Are the most unproductive of toys,--"
Said Governor Tom to the boys.

Said Governor Tom to the law-making boys:
"It is well to remember the wills
Of the people who settle the bills,
And the anger that lurks
In the hosts at the works
Is a matter that greatly annoys,--"
Said Governor Tom to the boys!

The boys heard the message, each sentiment seized,
And then went ahead and did just as they pleased;
And no one would know
From the way that they go,
From the money they spend and the peace they destroy,
What the Governor said to each law-making boy!

Caught on the Fly.

If some people couldn't worry, or make others worry, they'd never have a moment of happiness.

Don't go gunning for happiness. When you are least expecting it she squats at your feet and hops out to meet you.

Little Sermons.

If there wasn't a Devil, some people would have nobody but themselves to blame their sins on.

When we link hands with pleasure for a few minutes, we forget all the wisdom Trouble has taught us through the years.

Some people like to move about so much, that if they bought a ticket for heaven they'd insist on getting a round-trip in order to be on the safe side.

If the golden streets could be dug up and carried off to the smelter, there'd be whole battalions of people lined up before daylight with grubbing-hoes on their shoulders waiting to stake off claims.

Mister Ground Hog.

Ole Mistah Groun'-hog rouse hisse'f
Fum dat long nap he take;
He say: "Ah 'spec' Ah'd bettah move,--
It's gittin' late, my sake!"

So he jes' rub his ole eyes wide,
En dress up foh a stroll;
He wax his whiskehs up, en den
He crawl out ob his hole!

Up yondah shine de big red sun,
Eh-blazin' in the sky,
En at his side his shaddeh walk,--
So Mistah Groun'-hog fly!

He skeehed so bad he tuhn him 'roun'
En say, "Ah wake too soon;
Ah'll jes' go home en take a nap
'Twel Sunday aftehnoon!"

So Mistah Groun'-hog run en run
En crawl his deep hole in,
Toh snooze ehway foh six moah weeks
'Foh he wakes up ehgin!

When Trouble Came.

Ole Trouble come toh ouah house
One stohmy day en say,
"De road am hahd toh trabble,--
Ah hope you'll lemme stay!"

He staht toh hang his hat up,
En pull his ober-coat:
Ah box him oh de eah-muffs
En choke him in de tho'at!

Ah say, "Ole Mistah Trouble,
Ah'm pleased so much toh say
Dis house am mighty crowded,--
You-all jes' go ehway!"

Ah take my happy fiddle
Up dah beside my hat,--
Ah play him Ole Dan Tuckeh,
En what you t'ink ob dat!

Wanted a Bill or Two.

"Where are you going, Rastus?" inquired the reporter of an old negro at the depot.

"Ah's gwine obah toh Guthrie whah dem legislachuh men am passin' dem bills!" was the reply. "Ah's done libed hyah long ernuff, anyhow, en ef Ah git obah whah de bills am a passin' dey may pass a few whah my pockets stay, sho'!"

Whenever you find a man who has made an ignoble failure of managing himself properly, you'll always find one who thinks he could give the Lord pointers on running the universe.

Look out for Trouble.

When yuh see ole Mistah Trouble
Jumpin' high ehlong yoh way,
Jes' twis' yoh lips toh puckah,
En whistle night en day!
He'll nevah stop a minute
Toh tell yuh how-de-doo,
But take ehcrost de kentry
En jump de fences, too!

Doan' spen' yoh time eh-gazin'
Up yondah at de sky:
It shuah will make yoh dizzy
En pain yoh lit'le eye;
Jes' keep yohse'f eh-lookin'
Clah down de way yuh go:
De bulgine sho'ly comin'
De fus' thing dat yuh know!

Doan' twis' yoh neck, my bruddeh,
Eh gawkin' at de sun;
He'll shine up dah forebbeh
No mattah whah yuh run;
Jes' look out foh de bresh-piles
En cross de mud-holes slow:
'Twill keep yuh mighty busy
Watchin' dese hyah paths yuh go!

Don't growl if Fortune didn't trust you with more. Just think what a fool she would have been to favor you with greater gifts!

The Good Times Song.

Sing a song of good times!
Life is full of bliss,
And the merry music
Who shall dare to miss?
Joy delights the valleys,
Plenty's everywhere,
And pleasure swells the chorus
Till we conquer care.

Sing a song of good times!
That's the tune for me;
The bow's upon the fiddle
And the fiddle's full of glee!
It's swing your pardners, honey,
And swing them all the night;
The good times call the measures
And we're dancing to the light!

Nobody Hurt.

"I hear that Slugem and Hittem met last night."

"Yes, so they did."

"Which one of them got the worst of it?"

"Oh, there was no damage done. They made it all up, and nothing suffered but their New Year Resolutions!"

In the Legislature.

"An' Oi say, Moike," said Patrick O'Ferrall, to his neighbor Mike O'Neill, "Oi say, Moike, have ye heerd from yer bye Dennis lately who wint out wist?"

"Thet Oi hev, Pat."

"An' how is the poor bye gettin' on?"

"The divil take it, Pat, thet's whut breaks his mither's heart ontoirely. He wroites me thet he hez jest bin sintinced to the Legislachoor fer two years!"

Life, and labor along its way,
Life, and a shade of sorrow;
But Love is there with her lips of song,
And the sun shines out tomorrow!

To live life happily, to work life earnestly, to leave life fearlessly,--what greater success ever crowned with ivied laurels the infinite brows of Adam's mortal sons?

On Behalf of the Minority.

Note--(The Oklahoma Legislature has a republican majority in both houses, and the following is supposed to be uttered by one of the democratic minority.)

To the Sleek and Fat Majority: We recognize your smoke,
And in meek and humble fashion we have passed beneath the yoke;
We've no foolish reservations: all the earth is yours to claim
With the grandeur of its glory and the fullness of its fame;
So accept our due submission; all we ask is that you give
Ample chance to filibuster and preserve the right to live!

In the manner that Respectable Minorities behave,
We shall justify the title while the heathen rage and rave;
And according as 'tis written we shall every one be good,
Though we smash the logs you're rolling into fancy kindling-wood,
While we stir the sleeping animals with long and lively prods
To the pleasure of the nations and the laughter of the gods!

And we pity you sincerely! You had quite a job at hand
To divide the loaves and fishes as the bosses made command!
Fifty places for five hundred hungry souls that wild cavort
Is a work requiring statesmen of the most exalted sort:
And we weep our tears of sorrow as we're looking on at you,
While you bump the heads of many and anoint the chosen few!

You shall pass appropriations, tossing out the toothsome "pork,"
In a way to please the faithful and to keep the "boys at work;"
And whatever seems the proper thing majorities should do,
Why, the ocean's there before you and the course is up to you;
But remember as you voyage that we have a little boat,
And we're always steering madly tow'rd a record making vote!

We'll play our own part bravely, and we'll play it o'er and o'er:
Approve, condemn, and criticize, like statesmen gone before;
We'll rant about "the people, sir!" and shout "economy!"
And stab appropriation bills each opportunity;
And long preserve our "honesty"--unstained and white as snow:
Since you have swiped the offices, that's all we have, you know!

And our task shall be most pleasant! Underneath the shade we'll flop
While you fellows do the sweating for the legislative crop!
We shall criticize your labors; if you reach the roads of doubt,
We shall lend the hand of wisdom and in mercy lead you out;
And at last, the harvest gathered, we shall sift the good and true
For our own exalted portion while we leave the bad for you!

And after while the time will come, howbeit soon or late,
When we shall guide the government and steer the ship of state,--
When we shall trade our craft for yours, and our proud flag shall float
O'er battle-ships of greater things as people then shall vote;
And then we'll show you something else beyond the hearty strife,
And do our best to visit you with touch of higher life!

At Valentine's Day.

The Wind came out of the poppied East,
And said to heart of the lonely earth:
"I bring you laughter and love increased,
And all the music of might and mirth;
I bring you dreams that were born above,
And melting kisses as sweet as wine;
And one waits lorn with her lips of love
And dimpled arms, for her Valentine."

The Wind came out of the brazen North,
And said to heart of the grieving world:
"I bring a message, I call you forth
Where Love the flags of her faith unfurled;
I tell of peace that is sweeter far
Than song that croons where the tropics twine;
For one waits long 'neath the northern star
With eyes of love, for her Valentine."

The Wind came out of the winsome West,
And said to heart of the longing race:
"I bring you tidings of all that's best,
Of love and laughter and loved one's face;
I come from red of the reeling sun,
I bring you dreams of the things divine,
And at the rim of the world waits one
Who lists for the call of her Valentine."

The Wind came out of the sweet-breathed South,
And said: "I carry her call to thee;
She waits with songs in her mellow mouth,--
She waits, and her lips like the corals be!
She waits with embraces of long delights,
And eyes that utter a language fine,--
There, there, in the aisles of the romping nights,
She waits for the call of her Valentine."

O, call of this world to the world that dreams,--
Sweet call of the Near to the Soul Afar,--
Beyond the shadows of earth's cold themes,
There's one that waits where the love lights are!
There's one that waits with her cheeks aglow,
And eyes earth-round with a fearless shine,
And Near and Far with their linked hands go
To mate with the fate of their Valentine!

Little Sermons.

There is more religion in a home full of bread and butter than a hotel full of canvas-back and terrapin.

If the Lord sends a tin-cup full of happiness, don't spend your time upbraiding Him for not supplying a ship-load.

Some people are so unreasonable that if the Lord sent them a turkey they would raise a row because he didn't furnish a barrel of cranberries, too.

A Valentine.

Don't you dare to tell me
Love is old and gray!
He's as young and rosy
As the blooms of May!

Don't you dare to tell me
Love is wed with wrong!
All his deeds are holy
With the smiles of song!

Don't you dare to tell me
Love is only strife!
Hands of his shall lead us
To the perfect life!

Love and hope with happy
Feet shall scale the sky,
Through the dismal shadows
To the bye and bye!

Its Principal Work.

"Has the Legislature done much?" inquired one anxious citizen of another.

"No, not much," was the answer. "Its principal act was to pass a bill repealing Ground Hog day, but they fear the Governor will veto it."

Life's Way.

When the heart grows weary
Of the storm and strife,
Don't you worry, dearie,
'Tis the way of life!

'Tis the way we wander
Through the world of wrong;
Sorrow makes us fonder
Of the smile and song.

Don't you weep or weary
At the storm and strife:
Love shall lead us, dearie,
Through this tangled life!

Caught on the Fly.

Some one's contrariness is responsible for nine-tenths of life's tragedies.

Popularity is an ice-box where men are preserved in cold storage against the fickle mob's changes in temperature.

When you board the train of life for the city of happiness, don't let Conductor Sorrow ring the bell and drop you off at the wrong station. Check your baggage through, and don't use the sleeping-car too much.

Uncle Joe and Statehood.

(Note: The press dispatches indicate that Uncle Joe Cannon, Speaker of the House of Representatives, is doing all he can to defeat the Statehood bill.)

If Uncle Joe'd come off the perch and let us build a state
We'd resolute to beat the band and call him wise and great;
We'd hand him taffy, chunk on chunk, and sling the sugar out
Till that old duffer'd surely think he's what you read about:
But your Uncle Joe is mighty and he has a stubborn will,
And he's done malicious murder to the Statehood bill!

It is true the bill is faulty; it is true if we'd our way,
It would need a lot of fixing ere it saw the light of day;
But we beggars are not choosers, and just any sort of state
Now would set the anvils roaring when we came to celebrate;
And we think he's small potatoes and quite scanty in the hill
When he sets himself to knocking on the Statehood bill!

If he'd just be rather friendly, we would praise him up a bit
And we'd give him such a jolly that he'd lose his nerve and quit;
But he carries him so haughty and he bangs his hands so loud
That he scares the day-lights out us and he frightens all the crowd;
And whate'er his plan or purpose, it is plain he's bound to kill
That sweet child of all the statesmen that we call the Statehood bill!

If he'd listen to our troubles and his haughtiness relax,
Then the bill we love and cherish would escape the butcher's ax
But with him across the pathway, it as plain as day appears
That our hopes are only rainbows and we chase them down the years;
Oh, we wish him every gladness and we never wish him ill,
But we hope he'll quit his meanness to the Statehood bill!

Uncle Joey! Uncle Joey! Won't you for the once be good?
Won't you let us find fruition for the hopes misunderstood?
If you'll only mend your manners and repenting let us in
We will jolly you forever, we will pat your cheek and chin;
Or we'll lay for you till doom's-day and we'll then be hoping still
That the boys will overrule you and will save the Statehood bill!

Small Bills.

"Is the Legislature passing any big bills?" inquired Weston.

"No I think not," said Preston. "I was over there the other day, and I couldn't even hear the crinkle of one bigger than $10!"

Caught on the Fly.

The homely virtues may be old, but they are still young enough to carry the world's burdens.

The crust on the pie at a charity dinner may be long, but it covers a multitude of culinary sins.

Every good thing in this world costs money; and since experience is the best thing of life it is always expensive, also.

The Sunny Side.

Oh, no matter what the weeping,
Or what awful ills betide!
Let us walk the ways of gladness
On the happy, sunny side!

When the sorrows come and settle
With their tears and cares and pride,
Don't believe their tales of sadness,
For there's still a sunny side!

What's the use to go to weeping
When the shadows wander wide?
For the sun is shining somewhere
And there's yet a sunny side!

It's no diff'rence what the weather,
What the flow of wind or tide;
There's the holy joy of living
And God keeps a sunny side!

Keep Busy.

Don't sit down so lonesome
Through the speeding years;
Drink the wines of gladness
And forget the tears.

Life goes down the distance
Swift as eagle's flight;
Stop to say "Good-morning."
And it ends "Good-night!"

Wait Awhile.

Don't you worry at the winter!
There's a streak of shine about,
And before the storm is over
There's a daisy peeping out!

Spring is coming clothed in beauty,
And her lilies laughing white
Wait beneath the melting snow-drifts
For the days of their delight!

Over yonder smile the gardens,
And the sky above is blue;
And your sweet-heart trips the meadows
With the roses red for you!

Little Sermons.

A man's conscience preaches more eloquent sermons than the Savior on the Mount.

If men were less evil, it would be much easier for their fellows to walk the narrow way.

If the Bible reduced virtue to a mathematical demonstration of its cheapness over Vice, the mourner's bench would break down with the repentant sinners.

At the End.

At the end of the day
What reward shall we gain
For the pleasures of play
And the presence of pain?
When the sun shall have set
What reward shall we get?

As we sing and we sigh
Through the years' tangled ways,
Through the winter's wild cry,
Through the blooms of the Mays,--
When the years all have set,
What reward shall we get?

Through the battle and strife,
Through the right and the wrong,
We shall climb to the life
Where the years are a song;
When the sun shall have set,
There's a crown we shall get!

If the Luxuries and Vices were banished from this world, Virtue would get so rich in a twelve-month that she would summon them all back and give them greater liberties than they enjoyed before.

A Popular Preacher.

"Ah done tole yuh, Sam, dat new pweacheh ob ouahs am de bestes' man in de pulpit dat ebbeh Ah see."

"How come, Rastus?"

"Why, doan't yuh know, de otheh night when de weatheh wuz so mighty col', he nebbeh said a wohd ehbout hell-fiah, but jes' exhohted ehbout hebben bein' a wahm en pleasan' place whah de flowehs bloom en de wohteh millions git red heahts de whole yeah roun'; en sebenteen ob dem young sinnehs come up to de mohneh's bench en got 'ligion mighty quick!"

An Incurable.

"And what is the peculiar derangement of this patient?" asked a visitor of the Superintendent of the Insane Asylum, as an especially abject victim was seen writhing and cowering in a padded cell.

"O, he is not insane,--he is just a common idiot," said the Superintendent. "He sent comic valentines, and they had no other place to put him!"

Good Morning,--Good Night!

As life with its glories
Crowds close in the light,
Tell pleasure good-morning
And sorrow good-night.

No matter what fortune
Comes down in swift flight,
Tell pleasure good-morning
And sorrow good-night.

Walk still in the sunshine,
Where blossoms bloom bright;
Tell pleasure good-morning
And sorrow good-night.

And out through the orchards
Where mirth rules in might,
Tell pleasure good-morning
And sorrow good-night!

It is always easy to find plenty of weeds in the garden of life, if you are looking for weeds; but then even the weeds have blossoms of love upon them!

Kansas Has Her Dander Up.

When Kansas gets her dander up and reaches for her gun,
I think some folks will chase themselves and hike out on the run;
I think the railroads will be good, John D. come off the perch
And christianize the Standard Oil until it joins the church;
I think the trusts and wicked men that once were all so bad
Will mercy pray when once they know that Kansas can get mad!

The people there have stood a lot since first the state began;
They've passed through many trying times as varied seasons ran;
They've had the drouth, survived the flood, and isms good and ill
Have overcome with sturdy heart and never-dying will;
But now with patience broken quite new battles must be won:
And Kansas has her dander up and reaches for her gun!

The Octopus must watch his ways and guard his awful arms,
And keep his eyes peeled mighty close around the Kansas farms;
The days of peace are over there! too long the robber-trust
Has rifled all their pocket-books and left them but a crust;
But Kansas has a sudden way of stopping all the fun,
When once she gets her dander up and reaches for her gun!

"John Brown of Ossawatomie!" There's freedom in the phrase!
St. John with prohibition and old Peffer with his craze!
And now the world is waiting for the fire-works and the sights
When Trusts will get insomnia and lie awake of nights;
For she will take the bakery and capture every bun,
When Kansas gets her dander up and reaches for her gun!

O, bold and reckless financiers! Take warning ere you fall!
You'd better stop awhile and read the writing on the wall!
Your hands are red with human blood, they're dripping human gore,
And by the gods above they swear, you shall not rule them more;
With hands that act, with hearts that dare, she'll get you every one,
For Kansas has her dander up and reaches for her gun!

Caught on the Fly.

The language of love is mostly adjectives of the superlative degree.

At twenty, life is purpose; at thirty, doubt; at forty, philosophy; and after that, experience.

No woman ever was so much of a woman that she was not still enough of a child to enjoy being petted and flattered.

Rolling on to Glory.

Rolling on to glory,
Still the old world goes!
Still the ancient story
Of the wants and woes;
Here a little sighing,
There a little song,
Preaching, praying, dying,
Down the ways of wrong!

Rolling on to glory,
Still the old world goes,
Through the battles gory
Of the friends and foes!
Here it sees a vision,
There it gains a truth,
Moving with precision
To immortal youth!

Keep the laughter sunny
As you walk the night:
Neither might nor money
Brings the living light!
Still the ancient story
Love, the Wonder, knows:
Rolling on to glory
Still the old world goes!

Don't Fall Out with Life.

Don't fall out with life, my brother;
It will please, you like as not;
If you'll sort its pleasures over,
You will find it worth the living,
And it's all the one you've got!
You would better keep it friendly
And not rib it up to fight:
It will play you joyous music,
It will give you love unceasing,
If you only treat it right!

Don't fall out with life, my brother,
If it slaps you in the face:
Every time it brings a shadow,
Every time it gives a sorrow,
There's a rain-bow 'round the place;
O, its heart is filled with pleasure
And its raptures slay the wrong;
All the stars repeat its praises,
All the suns exalt its glory,
And you'd better join the song!

Don't fall out with life, my brother!
If it has the wintry snows,
There's the scarlet of the summer,
There's the russet of the autum,
With the lily and the rose;
It holds harvests for your labor,
It has crowns for you to win;
Open wide the glory-shutters,
Fling the doors of deeds far-open,
Till the sunshine saunters in!

Not Extravagant.

"Are the members of the legislature extravagant in their habits?" inquired a suspicious citizen of a press reporter.

"No, not at all!" answered the veracious reporter. "I know several of them who came here at the beginning of the session with a clean shirt and a five-dollar bill, and they haven't changed either of them yet!"

Away from the Winter.

Away from the Winter and all his wild ways,
To the blossoms that smile in the spring's laughing days,--
To the rivers that sing
In the gladness of spring,
Where the birds cleave the air on the love-laden wing!

Away from the walks of the snow-smitten town
To the fields where the bees for the honeys go down,
To the vales and the hills,
And the love-singing rills,
And the song of disconsolate, grieved whippoor-wills!

Away to the paths where the white lilies grow
And the daisies besprinkle the meadows below;
Where the roses blush new
In the arms of the dew,
And the stars toss the sweets of their kisses at you!

Just be Patient.

Don't you worry at stupidity! It may be trying some
Just to keep your patience present when the dullard pounds the drum,
And the discord of his rumpus fills the palace of your soul
With a horrid inclination that you hardly can control;
But the world keeps making music, and as on the ages fly
It will learn the angel chorus, and will sing it bye and bye!

Don't you worry at the darkness! It may seem a little thick
As through life's entangled thickets you your pathways try to pick,
And the struggle for advancement seems so bitter as you roam
Through these vagrant ways of wonder to the beacon-lights of home;
Over yonder shines God's lantern! And the shadows all shall die,
In the glories of the sunshine when we reach the bye and bye!

Don't you worry at the winter! When the snow is all about;
It may seem a time of trouble for the blossoms peeping out,
And the sere leases of the forest and the dead grass of the hills
Bring a set-back to the roses and the lilies have the chills;
But the world is rolling onward! and the spring is drawing nigh,
When the birds will spill their music through the blossoms bye and bye!

There's no need to get impatient! All the tangled ways will cease,
All the outer darkness vanish, all the battles end in peace;
All the griefs that vex and hurt us, all the ills that worry so,
Shall forsake the roads we wander and the weary paths we go!
Up and on the world forever! Up and on to meet the sky,
And the Good shall slay the Evil in the blessed bye and bye!

Off the Reservation.

There is war throughout the country! Don't you hear it rage and roar
From the West Virginia mountains to the California shore,
O'er the Illinois prairies and the valleys of Mizzoo,
Far across the plains of Kansas and of Oklahoma, too?
'Tis the people that are marching! They've a purpose that is just;
They have left the reservation and are smashing at the Trust.

It has been a time of patience; for the folks were slow to wrath,
And they thought to go it easy down the Standard's stony path!
But the loads were heaped too heavy, and the patient oxen broke
From the proddings of the drivers and they splintered up the yoke;
And however much the masters shout their curses through the dust,
They have quit the reservation and are out to smash the trust!

Yet it was no sudden movement that expanded in a night:
It for months and years was coming with tornadoes full of might:
And the fuse was in the powder and the sure result was seen
When Tom Lawson stuck a fagot in the mighty magazine!
Then the people knew the Issue! Either yield or fight they must,
So they quit the reservation and went out to smash the trust!

Tommy Lawson! Tommy Lawson! What a naughty boy you are,
Stirring up the people this way till they rise and shout for war!
Don't you wish you hadn't done it? You are like to break the rule
Of the "System" and the Standard and disrupt the Sunday School!
For the people are so earnest, in the ire of their disgust
They have left the reservation and are out to smash the trust!

Caught on the Fly.

If the bad people never made scandal, what would the good people have to talk about?

Opportunity may call once, but she never rings the bell for the servant when she finds us visiting our wife's folks.

The lazy man is always willing to give the hustler a big percentage for collecting the living that the world owes him.

Don't Trade with Trouble.

Don't make a trade with Trouble!
He would buy you bargain cheap,
And you'd have to pay a ransom
That would climb up mighty steep!

Don't sell yourself to Trouble,
'Cause he banters you each day!
Out beyond the snows of labor
Wait the blossomings of play!

Don't make a trade with Trouble!
Never stop to name a price;
Tell him plain he'd better travel
Without any more advice!

Trouble never paid a dollar
Of the mighty debt he owes;
Don't sell yourself to Trouble
And the sorrows that he knows!

Little Sermons.

The Devil has such a good appetite that you can't afford to have him boarding at your hotel.

Broken heads are more numerous than broken hearts, and they also pay more fines in the police court.

When Faith and Hope leave a woman's heart, it is entirely empty of the graces; for Charity never had a home there.

Life and Love.

Life, and the trouble that comes along,--
Life and the griefs it carries;
But Love comes by with her lips of song,
And the joy that forever tarries!

Life and the love and the bliss supreme,--
Life and the smiles of gladness;
And the song she sings is a holy dream
Where the soul forgets the sadness!

Where Love Abides.

We walk in the present as roamed we the past,
With gladness before us and joys unsurpassed,
And Love lights the new days as Love lit the old,
With the smile of her joy and the laugh of her gold!

The world and its sorrows no longer supreme
Fade away in the smiles of the wonderful dream,
And the light of its love overshines the abode
Of the shadows that falleth on beautiful road.

O, Sorrow, stay far in the desolate night,
Where the black of your wings bears the black of your flight,
And hasten, O tears, down the deserts that lie
In the silences vast of the bleak bye-and-bye!

O, Joy, tune the stars till they sing through the night,
While Love wreaths the lilies of Good with delight,--
Till the stars fill the earth with the seraphim song,
And Love with her garlands hides all of the wrong!

Keep in the Light.

It's no use to court the shadows!
They will hide your heart in night!
If you want to gather roses
You must linger in the light!

It's Good bye, Mr Speaker.

O, it's good-bye, Mister Speaker, when the motion to adjourn
Says the stuff is off forever and forbids us to return!
And there's much of tears and laughter, much rejoicing and regret,
At the measures we enacted and the things we didn't get;
But the sixty days are over! And this hope each heart imbues
That the people are forgiving and our errors will excuse!

It was sixty days of labor with but little recompense;
It was sixty days of struggle with the rivalries intense;
It was sixty days of effort to enthrone the people's will,
And to legislate the good things and the evil things to kill;
And if we but scanty trophies for our battles can display,
Still it's good-bye, Mister Speaker! We are going home today!

We have found there's something mighty in the large affairs of state,
And we know beyond a question it is hard to legislate!
For there stand so many fellows plucking at the public goose,
That it's moving lofty mountains when you try to pull 'em loose!
But it's good-bye, Mister Speaker! If we failed to do the best,
Let's be glad at what we purposed and surrender all the rest!

It is pretty safe to figure that the legislature man
Shall receive but scanty praises though he does the best he can,
And with fellows on the left of him and fellows on the right,
Full of sage advice and counsel, his is not a happy plight;
But the record has been written and for us it stands for aye,
So, it's good-bye, Mister Speaker! We are going home today!

O, it's good-bye, Mister Speaker, and it's farewell this and that,
And it's wish you well, my brother, with the work you labor at!
And if we have missed our calling and we don't deserve applause,
Nevermore we'll leave the furrow just to tinker at the laws;
If we failed, 'twas worth the trying, whatsoe'er the people say,
But it's good-bye, Mister Speaker! We are going home today!

A Memory.

A scarlet on the maples,
A daisy down below,
And perfumes of the gardens
That blossomed long ago!

Love lifts the face of morning,
And walks the twilight late,
And one is there beside me
And leans across the gate!

Love sings her angel music
Through all the laughing days,
And we, the lovers, loiter
Adown the rosy ways.

O, scarlet of the maples,
O, daisies down below,
And perfumes of the gardens
That blossomed long ago!

Richly Deserved.

"I see Jingles is becoming quite a poet. I presume he must have got a good deal for that last poem of his."

"Yes, I think he deserved six months for it, at least!"

Sunny Side Out.

Though the skies are gray and gloomy
And the shadows hang about,
Yet the world is bright and bloomy
When the sunny side is out.

There is still an angel chorus
That shall put the griefs to rout,
And the sorrows flee before us
When the sunny side is out.

Then ring the bells of glory
And swing them with a shout!
This life's a laughing story
When the sunny side is out!

And fill the lips with laughter!
Let ancient worries pout!
With joys before and after
And the sunny side still out!

Little Sermons.

It's a mighty poor religion that isn't better than some of its devotees.

If God is in your debt, you can meet the Devil's sight drafts on demand.

The honest doubter will be welcomed to glory while the canting hypocrite is hustled into the patrol wagon for the infernal regions.

Fishing Time.

Yonder by the river
Grasses growing green,
And the wild birds singing
Over all the scene!

Yonder by the river
Violets are blue,
And the skies are dropping
Tender dreams of you!

Yonder by the river,
Where the ripples sing,
In the tangled thicket
Burns a crimson wing!

Yonder by the river!
We have waited long;
Let us greet the sunshine
With a smile and song!

Life's Eternities.

Who can measure the dynamic force of one small life, or even of its smallest act? Verily, he that plants faith and hope in one brave heart and summons it with trumpet call to the lofty labors of the rolling years, has borrowed creative energies from the treasuries of God and throned eternal might to rule again among the skies!

The Days.

Day-time and night-time,
Bright and black weather,
Life-song and love-song
Blended together!
Sorrow's an exile
At Joy's high endeavor;
Tears for a moment,
Then laughter forever!

Little Sermons.

A bowl of hot soup is sometimes more christian than a cup of cold water.

Even a bald-headed man can be a prophet. There was Elijah, for instance, whom the bears revenged.

Patience is sometimes imposed upon. Job not only had great suffering, but his friends lectured him about his sins.

Spring is the creative season of the world. Then all the creatures of earth and air, of sky and sea, find their well-loved mates, and though the individuals pass away, the pair grows all immortal in the children of their love.

When the Birds Come Back.