Part 6
Old Neptune's giant iceberg Shone white beneath the sky His icy breath gave warning "Don't touch me or you die."
But heedless to this warning The ship steered on her way And struck the icy monster For which her life did pay.
With his great strength this giant Then rent her sides in twain And left her floundering helpless Upon the boundless main.
Her passengers in terror Rushed to the upper deck And there her Captain told them "Titanic is a wreck.
"And all the little children And women in great haste Must go aboard the life boat, No moments are to waste."
But when these little children Held to their fathers' hand And wives clung to their husbands They heard this dread command--
"The boats are but for women, All men on deck must stay And wait till help comes to us-- There is no other way."
But those who loved their husbands And were most loyal wives Refused to leave the men they loved To save their own poor lives.
Then rough hands tore asunder The arms of love entwined, And threw the wives into the boats And left the men behind.
But while the cries of parting With grief all hearts did tear, The band of the Titanic Struck up a lively air
Of jolly ragtime music And glad notes of good cheer, As if to tell the people There was no cause to fear.
Since aid would soon come flying And all would rescued be, So why should hearts be saddened When bandmen played with glee.
Down, down Titanic's going, But still the band plays on, The brave men know they're sinking That they will soon be gone.
But how can they die better Than giving helping cheer To those who from Death's waters Are trembling in great fear.
So as the water covers The deck just at their feet, They play with solemn fervor A hymn majestic sweet.
And, "Nearer, oh, my God, to Thee, And nearer yet to Thee," Gave courage to the drowning men Who struggled in the sea.
For Colonel Astor, Major Butt And learned William Stead, And many other noble men We mourn Titanic's dead.
And with them we all honor The band who cheered their way To meet the ever-dreaded King To whom all lives must pay.
_Concerning this jingle Elbert Hubbard said: "Dear Little Friend: This is your masterpiece of word painting descriptive of courage, anguish and man's helplessness."_
HOW TO BE HAPPY
One night as I slept there came to me A dear little sprite from o'er the sea, And sweetly smiling, whispered to me: "Shall I tell you how to happy be?" Of course I asked for the recipe Which worked its magic soon on me, And as I'm happy as one can be I'd like to tell the news to thee.
It's not advice we might call new, But it gives us joy that's pure and true; It's simply the "MUSE OF SMILES" to woo, And whate'er we have each day to do-- Tasks that are pleasant and sad ones too-- With a smiling face our work go through, Forgetful of self and "HOPEBEAMS" strew For those who see not the brightest view.
REVENGE ON AN ACHING TOOTH
One time I had an awful pain Which made me groan and cry; It felt like daggers in my head Which stabbed at my right eye.
It was the toothache, mother said, And as she petted me, She quite agreed with Bobby Burns That nothing worse could be.
Not even chiggers, ainhum, yaws, Or leprosy and sprue, With craw-craw and the Dhobie itch, Piedra and goundou.
Beriberi and pinta, too, With cholera and boils, And dengue and bubonic plague Or dreadful serpents' coils.
With fevers scarlet, yellow, black And measles and the mumps, Green apple-colic, whooping cough, And chicken-pox's bumps.
In Mother's sympathy for me No comfort could I find, And so I sought the dentist's aid, Where forceps cruel but kind
Removed the sore and aching tooth, And freed me from the pang, Which by the noted Bobby Burns Was called "A venomed stang."
And when the dentist gave to me The very little thing Which for so long had tortured me With joy I longed to sing.
And I resolved to sugar it And watch it every day, While it was having dreadful pangs And I could laugh and play.
AN OLD-TIME AND A MODERN SONG
"Baby Bye, Here's a fly; Let us watch him, you and I. How he crawls Up the walls; Yet he never falls! I believe with six such legs You and I could walk on eggs. There he goes On his toes Tickling baby's nose."
Daddy, dear, Oh, come here, For I fear a fly is near! There he goes On his toes Touching baby's nose! Oh, alas, our child may die, Come and quickly swat this fly! Baby's ill, Get a pill And the fly germs kill!
LEGEND OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY
Sebert the first East Saxon king, Who of our Christ did preach and sing He built the first church on the ground Where fair Westminster now is found. And to this church 'tis often said Came good St. Peter from the dead And with the angels sweet and fair Descending on a golden stair Reaching from the Heavens above And bringing to this earth pure love.
He consecrated and he blest This Christian church above the rest Of churches in old England's Isle And on this site the saints still smile.
HOW MOTHER LEARNED NATURAL HISTORY
One day while sitting on the beach Talking of child training With a most learned pedagogue From whose lips were raining Great torrents of most wondrous lore Upon most subjects known, My Mother learned one little fact This wise man did not own-- And this through making a most sad Acquaintance with a bee, Who wore a yellow jacket suit To show his family. This stinging warrior with his stings Felt nothing of alarm And boldly marched beneath the lace That covered Mother's arm. And when she tried to let him out He stung her o'er and o'er As if he had a warrior band Well armed with stings galore. And when at last my Mother brave Killed this most wicked bee Her arm was, oh, so very sore, With ten lumps I could see.
Said the professor solemnly While gazing at her arm, "I thought my Natural History said That bees can do no harm; If they but use their stingers once, They ne'er can sting again. But you've been stung by some insect That carriers stingers ten."
"Oh, no," said Mother, with a smile, "It had one stinger wee, But now I call a yellow jacket, 'Sting ad finem bee.'"
THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY
In days of chivalry, so I've been told, All knights were gallant, kind and bold, But ladies though ever so modest and sweet Made the bold knights kneel down at their feet.
ON MIDSUMMER NIGHT
On midsummer night or St. John's eve Is fairies' night when they receive All their friends and all their slaves, The goblins, witches, trollish knaves. And if the olden tales be true, All men and maids have cause to rue, Who on this night dare go abroad And touch a foot to fairy sod; For naught will save them but to jump Right o'er a fire or blazing stump.
But if you're brave and do not fear That for your rashness you'll pay dear, Then stand beneath an elder tree And King of Fairies you may see.
Should you then wish to ride afar With him to some far distant star, Then quickly tread St. John's wort flower And he will show you "Fairies' Bower," And also carry you all night To many lands, until the light Comes with Aurora's face so fair, When he will drop you anywhere, It matters not where he may be, On mountain, desert, or the sea.
And therefore few men whom I know Are brave enough with him to go. And think it best to bide at home And not with fairies far to roam.
BEWARE OF THE WET
Johnnie Jones, you'd bettah stop Paddlin' in de wet, Lest you grow to be a duck Or somethin' worser yet With a pudgy mushroom head Shaped like an umbrella, Which would make you, handsome lad, Such an ugly fellah.
TO MODERN KNIGHTS
What would you do, oh, my good brothers, Should anyone insult your mothers, Your sisters, sweethearts or your wives By saying they lived worthless lives Because they could not go to fight In cruel war with men of might?
The one who slandered women so, Ah, you would treat him as your foe.
What would you do, oh, my good brothers, Should anyone insult your mothers, Your sisters, sweethearts or your wives, Declaring they lived worthless lives And classing them with lunatics Or, even worse, with fierce convicts?
The one who slandered women so, Ah, you would treat him as your foe.
What would you do, oh, my good brothers, Should anyone insult your mothers, Your sisters, sweethearts or your wives By saying they are worthless lives, And that all women are inferiors, And even black men are superiors?
The one who slandered women so, Ah, you would treat him as your foe.
What would you do, oh, my good brothers, Should anyone insult your mothers, Your sisters, sweethearts or your wives By calling them mere worthless lives Because all men now take the lead, E'en though they cannot write or read?
The one who slandered women so, Ah, you would treat him as your foe.
Awake! Arise! Oh, my good brothers, Your country's law insults your mothers, Your sisters, sweethearts and your wives, And classes them as worthless lives, Declaring that no vote have they As to who rules this U. S. A.
So, modern knights, now make new laws That bear an equal franchise clause.
A SONG OF THE WOODS
"My leaves are turning crimson," the giant oak tree said, "It's almost time these children should seek their winter's bed, But how they still cling to me and gleam with crimson hue, They truly are more lovely than cirrus clouds of blue.
"And now throughout the forest--list! hear their voices ring, But 'tis in tones of sadness and sighing they now sing-- 'Alas! 'tis gone, fair summer, and winter's reign is near, He cruelly strips the forest of all her summer cheer By killing all her lovely leaves and likewise flowers gay And driving all her fairy folk to homes of far away.'"
BRICK VERSUS WATCH
"Nursie, dear, oh, I'ze afraid I haz breakt a brick In de big old fireplace. Please to mend it quick 'Fore dear Muzzie tums along And sees w'at I haz done, Poundin' with my Daddy's watch Ter make it fasser run."
KOPPA AFTER PI
I've very little Latin and very little Greek Stored away in my small brain, which yet is very weak, But one thing I'll remember, I think until I die, And that is that the KOPPA follows after Pi. And mother says that perhaps this solves the very reason why The "Kops" they follow after cooks well trained in baking pie.
THE PAST AND PRESENT EVE
Where is the maid of the long ago Who stayed at home and knit? And where is she who won her way Having a fainting fit?
Where is the maid who sat all day Waiting a lover to call So she might wed and ride away Unto his manor hall?
And where is she who always blushed And giggled "Tee-hee-hee!" Whene'er a noble "Adamite" She even chanced to see?
Where is she with the wasp-like waist And Chinese hobbling feet, The maiden fair with light bleached hair Who thought she was too sweet?
Where is the dame who left her babes Unto a servant's care, While she reposed or tried to make Herself look wondrous fair?
And where is she who wouldn't vote And did not care to know Who guided this great ship of state And saved it from the foe?
She's gone away to "Has-been-realms," And now we have instead Our glorious type of womankind Who forges fast ahead.
Our brothers who now make the laws Of this great country fair, 'Tis they alone who power have Their franchise rights to share.
I pray you show your chivalry, Oh, all you worthy knights, And vote for equal franchise laws, Which are your sisters' rights!
MY IMPRESSIONS OF NEWSPAPER MEN
[_Written by request of a newspaper man._]
Newspaper men, so I believe, Have tongues that roll around As if well oiled with labial grease, The slickest to be found.
Most of these men are very nice And have a pleasant look, But if I utter one wee word They make it fill a book.
Some one has said that simple smiles For length can't be surpassed; Because there is a whole big mile 'Twixt letters first and last.
But I believe newspaper men Can make words longer still, With oceans rolling in between Made out of little rills.
And as for questioning people No Eves would dare compete With skilful news reporters In any question feat.
But of all men I most adore Are these newspaper men, And I would now most loudly cheer THESE BRAVE KNIGHTS OF THE PEN.
PETER VISITS AN EPISCOPAL CHURCH
When Peter who was a country jake A visit to a church did make He sat with pleased look on his face As if indeed in Heaven's place.
And after service when his Ma Praised him aloud to his kind Pa He said, "Of course I sat quite still And watched the preacher's wives so ill All dressed in nighties, though their hair Was primped and curled as for a fair."
A GHOST STORY
On a dreadful stormy night My dear Tommy had a fight With great Peter Snookum Snee, Cat of fighting pedigree.
In this battle, sad to tell, My poor Tom, alas, he fell, Ending thus his earthly life Through the wicked God of Strife.
On the next night while in bed, Sleepless and with aching head, For my Tom, my precious pet, My poor eyes with tears were wet.
Suddenly his voice I heard, And in ghostly whispers purred, "I am coming, mistress, dear, Yes, 'tis true I'm very near.
"Good cat heaven have I left, I would comfort you, bereft For your precious Tommy pet, I would teach you not to fret.
"Do you hear me in the hall With my ghostly soft footfall? Up the stairs I bound to thee, Jumping steps from one to three.
"Now my paw is on your door, I turn the knob one-two-three-four, And you may see your Tommy now-- Me-ow! Me-ow! Me-ow! ow! ow!"
AN ESPERANTO POEM PLAIN TO ALL
Hundido krias--"Bow-wow-wow!" Katido krias--"Meow-meow!" Bovido krias--"Moo-moo-moo!" Kolombo krias--"Coo-coo-coo!" Shafido krias--"Baa-baa-baa!" Infano krias--"Ma-ma-ma!"
THE WINDS OF MARCH
[_Awarded Gold Medal in April (1912) Issue of St. Nicholas Magazine._]
Last March, "Imp March Winds" teased me so, I had no peace of mind, For when I took a little walk, these imps came close behind, And plucked my hat from off my head and hurled it to the ground, Or blew my handkerchief so far it never could be found. So, thinking of the Tangu rug, I asked it to appear And carry me away to Mars, where I need have no fear Of being tortured by these imps who love to tease and tease, And never let the big or small feel perfectly at ease. Then on the magic rug I flew away up in the air, And landed on the planet Mars. Alas, the imps were there! And working greater havoc far than they had done on earth, For 'twas indeed the warlike Mars that gave these bad imps birth.
A BACHELOR'S OPINION OF A BABY
Said Auntie to a bachelor-- "Do look at my fine boy! Oh, isn't he a cunning dear-- His mother's greatest joy."
"Ah, really," said the bachelor, While blushing rosy red, "And can he sit on his hind legs And beg when he is fed?"
MY COUNTRY
In this dear land we need not sigh And fear as orphans we may die, As long as we can look on high And see the starry banner fly Above the children passing by, Who gaze above, salute and cry, "MY COUNTRY!"
GREEDY IMPS
Nine goblins, ten witches, and bad imps galore Danced round me last night and made me so sore. They pricked and they stabbed, they stung and they clawed At my poor "tum-tum," oh, my, how they gnawed. I struggled against them while trembling with fear And crying out loudly, "Oh, Mother, come here!"
Just like a good fairy she came to my aid And made the bad goblins so quickly to fade Away in the darkness of "I-know-not-where," I'm sure that no children would like to go there.
And as Mother petted my poor aching head She looked at me sadly and softly she said, "The imps you have seen came but at your call As you were so greedy and ate nearly all The rich candied cherries your uncle sent you Instead of obeying and eating a few."
TO FRIENDS WHO REMEMBERED ME WHEN I WAS ILL
I thank you for the Fairies, you sent from KINDNESS BOWER, Bearing healing messages through thought, or deed, or flower, While wicked pains were troubling me and I felt very sad, Your loving little messengers, they came and made me glad By telling cheerful stories of flowering shrub and tree, And driving through forgetfulness the horrid pains from me.
GREETINGS TO NORFOLK
Greetings to the city of my birth, Norfolk town, Proud am I to claim this birthplace of renown, In Virginia's realms whose glory antedates That of all our country's other states.
ORIENTAL METAPHOR
Anysing just suits me, Makes me happy be, All I needs to trinkee Is few leaves of tea With a drop of water No more than you meet In ze little holelets Made by chickens' feet. And as to my eatin' Weenty sings suffice, All I needs for dinner Iz a grain ob rice. Oh, I eat so little For my biggish size, I'ze just like a hound dog Only munchin' flies.
A TORPID LIVER 'SPLODED HIM
Johnnie's father's gone to Heaven So his mother told my ma Doctor said a torpid liver Killed poor Johnnie's sickly pa.
'Spose it 'sploded and then shot him Way up in the clouds above, Where his pieces were united By the angels' songs of love.
THE SOUL OF A MISER
'Tis said that the soul of a miserly man, So small it becomes that any one can Blow it right through a tiny round pill Thence through the top of a humming bird's bill Into the eye of a wee little bug, Which wouldn't cause it to wink or to shrug.
LEARNING THE FRENCH ALPHABET
PROFESSOR GROS TO HIS PUPILS:
Répétez, s'il vous plaît, Les bonnes lettres a, b, c.
MAÎTRE CORBEAU:
Non, ces lettres je n'aime pas, Je crie seulement k-k-k.
PROFESSOR GROS:
Répétez, s'il vous plaît, Les bonnes lettres, a, b, c.
MAÎTRE COCHON:
Non, non, non, je seulement dis La jolie lettre i-i-i.
PROFESSOR GROS:
Répétez, s'il vous plaît, Les bonnes lettres, a, b, c.
MÉCHANT GARCON:
Non, non, non, je seulement dis La comique lettre j-j-j.
PROFESSOR GROS:
Répétez, s'il vous plaît, Les bonnes lettres, a, b, c.
LA MÉCHANTE FILLETTE:
Non, non, non, pour faire bons mots Je préfére la grande lettre O----
PROFESSOR GROS:
Répétez, s'il vous plaît, Les bonnes lettres, a, b, c.
LA VIELLE FILLE: FRANÇAISE:
Non, non, non, je seulement sais La douce bonne lettre t-t-t.
DANS MA MAISON
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai Un cheval, un perroquet, Un crocodile et un taureau, Une grande puce et un chevreau, Une vache, un âne et une brebis, Un papillon, des chauves-souris.
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai Une tigresse, un terrier, Un épagneul et un agneau, Une girafe et un beau veau, Un phoque, un bouc et un chameau, Un singe, un boeuf et un corbeau.
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai, Une ânesse, un lévrier, Une alouette et un lièvre, Une linotte et une bonne chèvre, Un boule-dogue et un moineau, Mon caniche si bon si beau.
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai Une cigogne, des araignées, Une grande chenille, un léopard, Une tortue et un canard, Un aigle, une taupe, des lionceaux, Et un grand Monsieur Crapaud.
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai Une baleine, un fier geai, Un éléphant et un bon chat, Un renard, beaucoup des rats, Une loutre, un tigre et un mulet, Un coq, une poule et des poulets.
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai Une perruche, un bélier, Une jument et un hibou Un vautour et un loulou, Une pie, une mouche et une belette, Des autruches et une fauvette.
Dans ma maison jolie j'ai Un serpent, un sanglier, Une sauterelle et Madame Oie Et un grand chien Danois Tout le mond vit chez nous Bêtes et gens-excepté vous!
DANS MON JOLI JARDIN
Dans mon joli jardin j'ai De belles roses et des oeillets Des hyacinthes et des pensées Du chevrefeuille, des tulipes gaies Des passe-roses, de l'oranger De blancs lilacs parfumés. Dans mon joli jardin j'ai Des muguets et des bluets Des campanules très coquettes La simple et modeste violette, Des marguerites, de rouges pavots De beaux arbres si grands et haut!
DANS MA CUISINE
AS AN AID IN MEMORIZING THE ARTICLES IN THE KITCHEN
Dans ma cuisine joilie j'ai Une poèle, et l'évier. Des cuilliers, et des couteaux Un balai, un fourneau, Une bouilloire, et une théière Et ma bonne cuisinière.
Dans ma cuisine jolie j'ai Des casseroles et un pass-thé, Des porcelaines, un joli moule, Beaucoup de plats et une grande boule, Des soucoupes une cafetière Et ma bonne cuisinière.
Dans ma cuisine jolie j'ai De belles tasses, un pot à lait; Beaucoup de sucre et de farine Sont toujours dans ma cuisine; Et la reine de ma pauvre mère Qui est notre cuisinière.
Dans ma cuisine jolie j'ai Une grande armoire, une horloge vraie Beaucoup d'eau et bon café Du chocolat, aussi du thé, Du vin, du lait, et la bìere Pour notre bonne cuisinière.
UN PETIT BARBARE POU
[_Written to remember that pou, genou, hibou, joujou, caillou, bijou and chou take X in the plural._]
Une fois un petit barbare pou, A donné grand mal au genou Du très sage et vieux hibou Qui a jeté son joujou (Un petit, mais dur caillou) Qui etait son cher bijou À la tête du méchant pou Faisant lui un brisé chou.
WISE REPLIES
"Joan of Arc, and who was she?" Asked the teacher of little Leigh. "Wife of Noah, of course," said she, "Who sailed the ark upon the sea."
"John's so wise he laughed at Leigh When she tried to answer me, So in the future for replies We'll always go to John the wise. Now what is lava, Johnnie, dear, Can it be found in places near?"
"Why, certainly," said smiling John, "Most everyday Dad puts it on, And covers nearly his whole face With lava thick in every place."
I PREFER A LAZY BEE
Once I saw a little bee Sitting very quietly On a baby elder tree.
Coming near to the young bee I reproached him scornfully, Saying, "You're not busy, bee."
Instantly the wicked bee Made himself to busy be By most cruelly stinging me.
Since that time I never see Any busy buzzing bee But I wish he'd lazy be.
WHEN WOMEN VOTE
[_Written for the Evansville, Indiana, Courier._]
When women vote On high will float The banner of true worth. No more Sir Graft Or Wily Craft Shall rule good Mother Earth.
Then peace will be On land and sea, The goddess we adore. Not e'en a germ Or ugly worm Will dare molest us more.
* * * * *
This jingle may be sung to the air of _Auld Lang Syne_.
AN OLD GARDEN
In my old Savannah garden, There roses and jasmine grew And many sweet for-get-me-nots Of lovely shades of blue. Japonica's waxen blossoms Of purest white and pink, Wistarias with honey cups From which the bees could drink. Sweet old-time shrubs whose odors Filled all the sun-kissed air And many another beauty Of "Flora" was found there; So one would think that garden A place of pure delight, But, alas, not so since Tom Cat Sang ditties there each night.
SPELLING WRONG "RONG"