Chapter 3
In the winter, of course, They procured a divorce!
However it may happen, there are times when the common-place soul rebels at the petty chains of trifles and seeks acquaintance with the infinite. Then it is a companion of the stars, an associate of wind and wave, and all of Nature's immeasurable forces. Happy he whose sanity is so brave and strong as to walk with the blossoms at his feet and the stars above his head.
Sooner Sayings.
Usury knows no law in a new country.
It's a poor claim that won't beat Arkansaw.
It takes more than a map and a real-estate sign to make a city.
All signs fail in dry weather,--except those of the money-lenders.
Better Hurry.
Man, you'd better hurry! Life is mighty swift, Fled before you know it With the stars adrift!
Soak yourself with sunshine All the blessed day; Yonder come the shadows And the night of gray!
If Love Abides.
Old Mister Trouble hides his face And crosses o'er the slope, When Love is laughing on the place And links her hands with Hope.
No matter if in darkest night Through tangled ways we grope, If Love abides with living light Still lip to lip with Hope!
The Rim of the Circle.
I.
We travel the rim of the circle; the center is under the feet; Today is the sire of tomorrow, the noon and the night never meet; The mornings come out of the purple to die in the light of the day, And over the dead of the ages the living are up and away!
II.
We travel the rim of the circle! The roses are ruddy and red Where the blossoms that burst into beauty are sleeping the sleep of the dead; And the trees in the deeps of the forest wave scepters of laughter and light Where the monarchs have perished forever and sheathed are the swords of their might.
III.
We travel the rim of the circle! The peoples that struggled and wrought Are the dust of the ways that we wander, with truths they discovered and taught; And back to the morning we hasten,--the morning when nations were new,-- For the Voice of the Master is calling, and still there is labor to do.
IV.
We travel the rim of the circle, yet wider and wider it grows, Yet farther and farther it reaches till Love conquers all of her foes, And Faith to the far journey beckons, and Truth with her promises sweet Sounds the call of the masterful ages and hurries the march of the feet.
V.
We travel the rim of the circle! Its path is a way of delight; The morning brings ever the noon-day and conquers the shadows of night; And whether we walk it a little, or whether we wander it far, Still widens the rim of the circle, and yonder the sun and the star!
Playing the Game.
When Willie first began the game, He saw but little in it, And often wondered how he came To let himself begin it; But soon he learned the ball to hit A mighty blow elastic, And shouted at the rise of it With yells enthusiastic.
He talked so much of hits and runs, Of strikes and fouls and bases, That we, the poor admiring ones, Could hardly hold our faces; His boasting never found an end, His bat was always ready, And every day he had to spend Some hours in practice steady.
He never seemed prepared for meals,-- The game held him completely; He kept so busy making "steals." And running home so neatly; And if a "home run" batted he, We could forget it never; His talk would all about it be Forever and forever!
Sometimes I think that Willie's game Is like the game life's playing: At first we wonder how we came Around here to be staying; And then we find the game is worth The stakes that humans stagger, And anxious are to win the earth With "home run" or "three-bagger."
We practice up from day to day To gain applause and prizes, And fool the precious hours away With toilsome exercises; Yet 'tis worth while whate'er the strife, Whatever you are doing, To play your best the game of life And keep the prize pursuing.
Little Sermons.
Love pardons where the law condemns.
It's a poor religion that joins the church for popularity.
Both God and the Devil know that neither of them can depend on the hypocrite.
A cup of cold water bestowed in mercy has more christian qualities than millions of dollars given for the astonishment of men.
With the May-time Blossoms.
I.
Out with the May-time blossoms! How sweet is the May-time song, Far from the griefs and sorrows and all of the cries of wrong!
II.
Out with the May-time blossoms, where the pleasures dance the light, And Love is a laughing fairy that kisses the lilies white!
III.
Out with the May-time blossoms, where the mocking-bird is king, And the songs of the thrush in chorus with all of the laughters ring!
IV.
Out with the May-time blossoms! For the lilies lead the way, And the roses blush their greetings and Love is the Queen of May!
V.
And the breezes whisper "Welcome" and sweet is the vale and stream! And life with the rose and lily is only a lover's dream!
VI.
Out with the May-time blossoms! Let youth and her fancies play, For Love is the light of the lily and Love is the rose's way!
Caught on the Fly.
Even a dead lie has a poisonous sting.
Social stars are not all of the first magnitude.
Grit in men and granite in stone are similar qualities.
Good opinions are valuable only as they come from good people.
Love never yet held poison to the lips or poured vitriol in a wound.
He only is truly rich who carries the sufficiencies of life within his soul.
The musician who would be praised by the ravens must learn to croak in their serenades.
Before great men can grow, the proper raw material must be provided. Pearls can't be made from putty.
My Heritage.
I am rich in the treasures of earth, In the deeds that the fathers have done, And for me from the moment of birth All the gifts of the stars and the sun!
At my feet have the multitudes cast What the ages have conquered and wrought,-- All the wonders of present and past, All the truths that the sages have taught.
I'm the heir of the sea and the sky, Of the storm and the sun and the star, And the morning of time toils for me Till I cross o'er the outermost bar.
Every truth that the teachers attained, Every vision the dreamers have known Every thought the philosophers gained, Is forever and ever my own.
I'm the heir of the land and the sea! 'Twas for me that they finished their quest; For they toiled the slow cycles for me And they wrought that my days may be blest!
Shadow and Shine.
"This world is full of trouble, And of sorrows, too, my boy!" But Love is here with laughter And she dwells along with Joy!
"This life is full of grieving, Every pleasure to destroy!" But Love is here with gladness And she fills the days with Joy!
"This path is full of darkness And the gloomy ways annoy!" But Love lights all her candles And unveils the stars of Joy!
O, this world and all that's in it,-- Life and every tiny toy! Love is all we crave or care for,-- Love who links her hands with Joy!
The Quest.
Over the hills that rise Still pursue the quest, Seeking in the shadows For the best,--the best! And beyond the summits gleam All the glories of the dream!
Brighter than the Dreams.
Never mind the brooding shadows, Nor how dark they seem! Sweeter are the laughing meadows Than the dreams we dream.
Never mind the waves that sever As we sail the stream; Lo, the harbor's brighter ever Than the dreams we dream!
Never mind the griefs that wander Where no stars may beam; There's a heaven fairer yonder Than the dreams we dream!
Never mind the Sword or Miter,-- Hard or holy theme; Brother mine, the world is brighter Than the dreams we dream!
Still the dream and still the dreaming, Through the tangled scheme; But the stars of love are gleaming Brighter than the Dream!
Little Sermons.
The cup that runs over is the one that we neglect to empty.
Those who would lie down in green pastures must not sow too many weeds and wild oats.
Howdy, Mister Summer.
It's howdy, Mister Summah! Ah's glad toh see yoh face; Ah hope yuh'll lak de kentry En visit all de place!
It's howdy, Mistah Summah! We'll happy be, Ah knows, Wid shiny watah-melons Eh-crowdin' in de rows!
So howdy, Mistah Summah! Ah's glad yuh back ehgin; We'll ten' de craps tohgetheh, En roll de melons in!
Little Sermons.
Fast people demand a religion trained to their own pace.
Whatever may be thought of the teachings of conventional theology and its peculiar dogmas, it is undeniable that a moral and an upright manner of living secures the highest happiness for the human family. If death is only a passage-way to eternal sleep, still a goodly life is worth the living for the little years of this world only.
Sooner Sayings.
Every man's horse is the fleetest, in the contest records.
Fortune favors the first man on the ground,--if he sets his stake and stays with it.
Statehood and "manana" are putting up a fierce contest to become exact synonyms.
A Happy Dream.
"Ah had a happy dream the otheh night, Boss; jes' de happies' one I evah had in all my life!"
"How was that, Rastus?"
"Well, suh, Ah dreamed dat Ah wuz in a field of water-melons jes' eh-eatin' widout eitheh knife or spoon, en de juice a drippin' offen my chin in a reg'lah stream!"
Still Going.
The black way and the bright way, And still we trudge along, With sunshine o'er each path-way And life a summer song.
The tear-drop and the heart-ache, And still we tread the years, With Love enough for gladness And Joy enough for tears!
Little Sermons.
When envy enters a man's heart, the devil never gives him any more attention.
The devil needs no mortgage on the Pharisee. He already owns him in fee simple.
When a man comes to believe he is better than his neighbors, it is high time he were hunting the mourner's bench.
At the Turning of the Lane.
Say good-bye to grief and sorrow, Leave them in a high disdain; All the raptures come tomorrow At the turning of the lane!
What if over you the shadows And the nights of cold and rain? Yonder smile the laughing meadows At the turning of the lane!
Still the rose and still the rapture Woven through the tangled skein, And the joys we still shall capture At the turning of the lane.
All the rain-bows arch their story Bright above the hill and plain; If we wait, we'll see the glory At the turning of the lane!
At the Twilight.
I.
As sure as the red years die, dear, as sure as the red years die, The day and the hour will come, dear, to whisper a last good-bye. When Love shall unloose the hand-clasp and under the heaping clays Shall hide in the shadows dark, dear, the dreams of the by-gone days!
II.
Whatever the paths we wander, they lead to the ways that part! One goes to the realm of shadows, one waits with a lonely heart; And tears that we weep together shall come at the cry of prayer And flow in a flood of grieving at pangs of the parting there.
III.
The roses will bloom as red, dear, through all of the laughing land; The lilies will grow as white, dear, but neither will understand; For what is the rose and lily to hearts that murmur and moan, With eyes that were bright all dim, dear, and one of us here alone!
IV.
Ah, one that is left shall murmur and ask of the bud and bloom, And question the awful silence and mourn at the gates of gloom; And call through the nights of darkness and sit at the doors of woe, And never an answer at all, dear, from lips that it used to know!
V.
And one at the darkened window and door of the heart's old home. Shall wait with an unspoke welcome for one that shall never come; And one at the gate stand watching as there in the years before, While the latch of the gate is silent and one shall return no more!
VI.
Whichever it be that goes, dear, whichever it be that stays, The lily and rose shall bloom, dear, through all of the lonely days; And all that we lived so bravely and all that we loved so long Shall dwell with the one that stays, dear, and lighten the lips with song.
VII.
Enough that the joys were many, that Love was a sun and star! Enough that we knew the raptures as tired feet wandered far! Enough that the years were happy and sweet was the golden light That came at the first "Good Morning" and stayed till the last "Good Night!"
Upward.
What matters the tempest, The storm and the night? Up yonder is glowing The rainbow of light: And o'er the red path-ways to glory we go The feet of our faith in their happiness know!
Success in its true sense is a personal and subjective matter, after all. Many have commanded armies and sat upon the purple thrones of the world with tear-stained cheeks and the unhappiest of hearts. Unless life has brought happiness to the one who spends it royally, failure of the most ignominious kind has been its dark achievement.
Sooner Sayings.
The gate to a cow pasture has rusty hinges.
A horse's swiftness is not determined by the saddle he sports.
The hoe and the branding-iron can't dwell as friends in the same settlement.
Quit Grieving.
Don't you go to grievin' At the cry of grief; If you'll try to whistle You will find relief!
Mockin'-bird up yonder. Robin down below, An' the world a-singin' All the song's they know!
A rose is only a rose after all, however sweet and beautiful it may be. And a weed is no worse than a weed, however noxious or deadly its exhalations. Neither can reach into the realm of the other or invade the world of its supremacy. Stick to the world in which you are born, and throw no bouquets at the impossible or the unattainable.
To the Dawn.
Hand in hand to the dawn, dear, We go to the gates of day. Where the sweet light beckons on, dear, And the roses line the way; And whether the clouds are heavy Or whether the skies are blue, A song on the lips of love, dear, And a light in the eyes of you!
Hand in hand to the dawn, dear, We go through the happy years, Where the feet of the joys have gone, dear, And the smile of the gold appears; And whether the fates are friendly And whether the blossoms few, The touch of the hand is brave, dear, And a song in the heart of you!
Hand in hand to the dawn, dear, We travel the dusty road, With the bruise of the battle's brawn, dear, And the weight of the labor's load; But whether we lose or conquer, And whether the rose or rue, A song on the paths we go, dear, And a smile on the face of you!
Hand in hand to the dawn, dear We go to the gates of day, Where the sweet light beckons on, dear, And the roses line the way; And whether the clouds are heavy, Or whether the skies are blue, A song on the lips of love, dear, And a light in the eyes of you!
Caught on the Fly.
A man is what he is, not what he heaps around him.
When life passes into the rocking-chair existence, it has no energies for combat.
To have one friend who believes in you is more than to be a favorite of extreme good fortune.
Little Sermons.
Untempted virtue is frequently only undeveloped vice.
When a man's religion brings a long face, he simply got fooled in the article he found.
So many people think heaven must be up yonder because they have never tried to find it here below.
You Sang to Me, Dear!
I.
You sang to me, Dear, in the morns far away, When the birds of the spring sang the matins of May, And the songs that you sang to me then were as sweet As the whispers the daisies lisped low at your feet.
II.
You sang to me, Dear, in the noons far away, When the fairies of joy sang the love-songs of May, And the touch of your hand was as tender and true As the longings of love in the dear heart of you!
III.
You sang to me, Dear, in the nights far away, When the dews of the dusk kissed the rose-lips of May, And the dews of your lips were as soft as the dew, And your eyes were as bright as the stars over you!
IV.
O, the morn and the noon and the night, when your lips In the sweetest of raptures brought sorrow's eclipse! They have died with the years on the deserts of men, Yet your heart to my heart sings the love-songs again!
V.
And the blossoms still bloom on the beautiful way Where the dews of the dusk kiss the rose-lips of May, And the noon and the night from the far away shore Sing the songs that you sang, to my heart evermore!
Caught on the Fly.
A bar-room full of laughter is more attractive than a home used for rag-chewing.
If a man stops to try on every shoe that fits him, he won't get dressed in time to build the fires in the morning.
Strength to do and to endure is the rich, ripe fruit of trial and struggle, grown only in the gardens of supreme courage.
Jist a-Wushin'!
Jist a-wushin' fer the grass Whayre the brook's a-brimmin' An' the tow-head fellers thayre Strippin' off fer swimmin'! Wushin' fer to be a boy In the laughin' lan's o' joy, Whayre the rain-bows ring the medders with a rosy rim of joy!
Wushin' fer the fields o' green, Cow-bells jingle, jangle, An' the kids thayre on the swing In the tree-tops' tangle! Wushin' fer to be a boy Whayre no sorrows fun destroy, An' the rain-bows ring the medders with a rosy rim of joy!
Wushin' fer a fishin pole, Whayre the swallers chatter, An' the Bob-whites come an' call Through the cat-bird's clatter! Wushin' still to be a boy Whayre no grown-ups bring annoy, An' the rain-bows ring the medders with a rosy rim of joy!
Jist a-wushin'! Only that, Fer tho perished pleasures! Jist a-wushin'! Fer the years An' their squandered treasures! Wushin' still to be a boy With the wide world fer a toy, While the rain-bows ring the medders with a rosy rim of joy!
A Happy Farmer.
What's the use to worry? Joy is coming nigh: Got the patches planted For the melons bye and bye!
What's the use to worry? Trust the rain and sky; They will stuff the melons Full of heaven bye and bye!
Sooner Sayings.
When the cow-path fades, the section line appears.
The testimony in a contest case is often a startling work of fiction.
The booth certificate and the lottery number are worthless to the fellow that won't hustle.
In the Lap of Spring.
Took a walk one day to hear Mister Blue-bird sing; Found old Winter sittin' there In the lap of Spring!
"Mister Winter!" So I said, "Guess you'd better hike! Give the lady here a chance At the rosy pike!"
Loafing.
Loafin' in the sunshine, On a grassy bed, Dreamin' of the melons An' their hearts of red!
Loafin' in the sunshine,-- That is what I said! Mockin'-bird a-singin', Tree-tops overhead!
Loafin' in the sunshine! All the cares are dead, Thinkin' of the melons An' their hearts of red!
Loafin' in the sunshine,-- Work an' worry fled! Heart's a-dancin' hoe-downs With the roses red!
No Encouragement.
"Ah tole yuh, boss, dat book whut yuh calls de Bible ain't no frien' to de cullud people," said Black Mose in a sceptical moment.
"Why, how is that Mose," said the preacher.
"Bekaze it doan't hol' no encouragement out foh de cullud sinnah! Now, ef Hebben wuz a place full ob banjoes en wohtah-millions, all de black raskels would suah come eh-runnin' to de moahneh's bench so fas' dey coulden' be bapsoused!" And the old man slouched away full of indignation at the barrenness of the heavenly promises.
Only the chemical tests of the long years can determine the true success or the utter failure,--the worth of a great deed or the nothingness of a mean act. The world's esteemed immortals have survived the shadows of oblivion only because of precious deeds they wrought for fellow men. The rags of yesterday are exchanged for purple robes as the centuries pass, while the crowns of today fade and crumble into forgetfulness. No man succeeds because he becomes a king or fails because he remains a peasant.
The Grip of the Prairies.
Up and down the world I've wandered, over land and over sea, With the rivers rolling under and the mountains over me, And as sure as truth is certain, you will find this saying so: When the prairies grab a feller, they will never let him go!
For there's something in the stretches of the plains that comes and takes All the loves and all the longings for their own exalted sakes, And the man that gets to breathing of their glories day and night Finds the prairies hold his heartstrings in a grip that's good and tight.
He may tread the balsam forests with their whiffs of fir and pine; He may sail the tossing oceans and inhale their breaths of brine; He may walk the rosy valleys, climb the mountains to the snow, But if once the prairies grab him they will never let him go!
Ever see the sun rise proudly from the prairie's naked rim Filling up the world of wonder till it overflows the brim? 'Tis a glory that's unrivaled! 'Tis a most exalted sight, And the prairies that present it come and grab you good and tight!
O, the grandeur of the prairies! O, the seas of grassy plain! How they soothe with satisfaction all the hopes of heart and brain! 'Tis a truth beyond disputing, and your own heart says it's so: When the prairies grab a feller, they will never let him go!
Caught on the Fly.
The man who has only two hands has none to spare for his neighbor's business.
Some people get up and fool around in the dark so they can grumble at the lack of sunshine.
The man who laughs in the sunshine and sleeps when the shadows fall will never suffer much with the heart-ache.
The Meadows of Morning.
The raptures grow the blossoms Over all the fields of May, And they bring the birds with music Just to sing the time away; O, brother, lift your voice In the anthems that rejoice While the roses rim the meadows of the morning!
The glad hearts send the gladness Over all the fields we go, And the glory of the sunshine Brightens all the world we know; O, brothers, come along! Let us sing the rain-bow song While the roses rim the meadows of the morning!
The good Lord gives his bounties To his children through the years, And his gifts of love and labor Conquer all the griefs and tears; O, brother, bye and bye We shall reach the home on high While the roses rim the meadows of the morning!
Fields of May.
Here's a road that's never long, Where it leads away Through the blossom and the song To the fields of May!
There the rain-bow bends above Bags of gold, they say; And there's laughter, light and love In the fields of May!
Here's the road that's never long! Come and let's away, Through the blossom and the song To the fields of May!
With all the strife and struggle after riches, the greatest joys of life are forever more the gifts of nature, within the reach of rich and poor alike, and beyond the measurings of gold. The clear sky and the green grass, the sunshine of the noon, and the dew of the morning, the blossom and the bird-song, good health and sound sleep, and the love of a man for a woman and of a woman for a man,--these have no prices in the catalogues of wealth and poverty alike.
The Journey.
This life, my dear, is a varied journey And most of its ways are queer, But those who laugh through its work and wonder Will find that it holds good cheer; And whether we laugh or languish And whether we sigh or sing, I am sure that still There is good for ill And the flash of an angel wing!
The world, my dear, and the folk that use it Care naught for our waste or worth; The smile and sorrow of hope and hurry Are small to the brave old earth; And whether with pain or pleasure And whether with smiles or tears, There is something glad For the dark and sad, And we go to the blessed years.
The deeds, my dear, that we faint in doing, The dreams that we catch and cherish, To those that walk in the ways beside us Are naught when they fall and perish; But whether they fail or triumph And whether the rue or rose, To the hearts that hold They are more than gold Till the years of the gods unclose.
It's up, my dear, with the purple morning, And death to the heart's annoy; No stop nor stay on the endless journey To rest on the hills of joy! And whether the paths are easy And whether the roads are long, There is rapture still For the ache and ill, As we wander the ways with song!
Yes, life, my dear, is a varied journey And most of its ways are queer, But those who laugh as they wander onward Will find that it holds good cheer; And whether we laugh or languish And whether we sigh or sing, I am sure that still There is good for ill And the flash of an angel wing!
"When the Sad Time Ends."
What's the use to beckon trouble As you journey down the road? Life will find its burdens double If it cherishes the load! Keep a smile and be contented With the favors fortune sends, And the joys will romp around you Till the sad time ends.
What's the use to keep complaining At the gifts the good days bring? For each tear that flows from heart-ache There's a hundred laughs that sing; For the day that's dark and gloomy, God a hundred bright days lends, And his sunshine will be ceaseless When the sad time ends.
What's the use to go to growling When the comrades that you knew Turn their backs on all your kindness And unsheathe their knives for you? For the scamp that proves a traitor, You will find a hundred friends, And their golden hearts ne'er waver Till the sad time ends.
What's the use to welcome trouble? Chase it from the paths you go! There is always plenty of it If you cherish every woe. Keep your life alight with gladness Till a song each day attends; You will reach the land of sunshine When the sad time ends.
Sooner Sayings.
The land office is the grave-yard of many a happy home.
In driving a settlement stake, one man is company and two's a crowd.
The ox-team makes a swift run when its owner understands how to drive them at the land-office window.
Snake Bit.
"Did you have any accidents on the fishing trip?"
"No; none to speak of?"
"Any one snake bit?"
"Yes, but that's nothing. Bill Jones got snake-bit every time his clothes rubbed him, and hollered for whiskey; and in order to save any, we had to undress Bill and put him under guard for the general welfare."
The Books.
I.
Close the book and put it by! What it held of song and sigh, What it held of smile and tear Laughs and sorrows through the year! Pages dark and pages fair Each to each are wedded there, And no sage e'er understood What was evil, what was good!
II.
Close the life and put it by! It was made of song and sigh, It was made of smiles and tears And the struggles of the years! Days of dark and days of fair Closely came and blended there, And but He who judges could Know the evil and the good!
Every day and hour from which Love witholds her smiles and hides her happy face is a desert path in the rose-fields of this life. Only he who welcomes the laughing goddess to his heart and holds her dear hands close with an abiding faith, receives that holy happiness discerning souls call a success worth having.
Move Along.
Move along, brother! The way may be long, But yonder's the sunshine And here is the song.
Move along, brother! The rain-bow is red; The clouds with the shadows And darkness have fled.
Move along, brother! The turn of the lane! Here's laughing for weeping And pleasure for pain!
The Sage.
Removed from pygmy ways afar, He feels the heft of sun and star,-- He traces winding paths that go Beyond the ways that dullards know, And sails swift thoughts across the seas Of God's unsailed immensities.
His vision sees the First and Last To present smallness welded fast, And he beholds with prophet eye The brotherhood of earth and sky, And, when Time's voyage wild is o'er The lights upon the farther shore!
Still Onward.
What if the paths be dark and shadowed still The summit roads and hope hides in eclipse! Beyond the tangled ways that murmur ill The touch of tender lips!
Forth on the dark ways though still darker grow The paths before the groping finger-tips! Beyond the shadow years our visions know The touch of tender lips!
Finis.
A sigh and a song, And a song and a sigh; But the song helps along To the sky bye and bye!
* * * * *
Transcriber's note
The following changes have been made to the text:
In the Table of Contents:
Poetry:
Page number for "A Valentine" changed from 307 to 207.
Page number for "Life" changed from 158 to 168.
Page number for "Mistah Cotton" changed from 149 to 105.
Page number for "Off the Reservation" changed from 225 to 224.
"Our Joe's Home Again" changed to "Our Joe's Home Agin."
"Governor Tom" changed to "Said Governor Tom" and moved to appropriate place in the list.
"See the Side Show" changed to "See the Side-Show" and page number changed from 4 to 102.
Page number for "The Legislative Pass" changed from 187 to 186 and moved to the appropriate place in the list.
Page number for "The Little Boy Land" changed from 67 to 66.
"The Valley of Rest" changed to "The Valleys of Rest".
Prose:
Page number for "Caught on the Fly" changed from 282 to 283.
"Mighty Troublesome" changed to "Mighty Lonesome".
Page number for "Wanted to Hide" changed from 151 to 121.
Page 16: "dosen't lay" changed to "doesn't lay".
Page 16: "hair is the middle" changed to "hair in the middle".
Page 31: "the the care-clouded" changed to "the care-clouded".
Page 34: Added "I." to the first stanza.
Page 39: "Pie-millon" changed to "Pie-million".
Page 59: "roas'in' ears" changed to "roas'in'-ears".
Page 62: "And they they chew" changed to "And they chew".
Page 74: "whereever I roam" changed to "wherever I roam".
Page 76: "new-fangeled" changed to "new-fangled".
Page 78: "it shadows of woe" changed to "its shadows of woe".
Page 80: "Wid de jedgment" changed to "Wid de judgment".
Page 82: "Lumkinsville" changed to "Lumpkinsville".
Page 85: "all the vitrues" changed to "all the virtues".
Page 102: "harvesings of blame" changed to "harvestings of blame".
Page 104: "other fellow out" changed to "other fellow ought".
Page 106: "These is sunshine" changed to "There is sunshine".
Page 111: "food he easts" changed to "food he eats".
Page 158: "Good Bye" changed to "Good-bye".
Page 179: "Caugh on the Fly" changed to "Caught on the Fly".
Page 195: "battallions" changed to "battalions".
Page 217: "They ve passed through" changed to "They've passed through".
Page 227: "Trou le" changed to "Trouble".
Page 237: "when the birds!" changed to "when the birds come back!".
Page 240: "molasses and sulpur" changed to "molasses and sulphur".
Page 241: "Say Good bye" changed to "Say Good-bye".
Page 249: "Fools Day" changed to "Fool's Day" to match Table of Contents.
Page 253: "song and prophsy" changed to "song and prophesy".
Page 265: "millionairs shall reel" changed to "millionaires shall reel".
Page 266: "The whispered" changed to "They whispered".
Page 282: "May time" changed to "May-time".
Page 283: "vitrol" changed to "vitriol".
Page 284: "sun and the star" changed to "the sun and the star".
Page 293: "bouqets" changed to "bouquets".
Page 309: "Snake Bite" changed to "Snake Bit".