V.
We sat and talked of other days! O, days that died unfelt,
Where innocence was crowned with love and all the [virtues] dwelt;
And in our hearts we sadly knew, whate'er the sages say,
That Heaven romps with us no more since those days went away!
Caught on the Fly.
Finding fault is not hard work, but it is a great waste of valuable time.
"Food for thought" is a popular and necessary brand, but the hungry man entirely overlooks it on the bill of fare.
If you would have a soft berth in this world, you must first run the full-feathered goose down and then do the plucking by your own main strength.
The World All Right.
Don't sing of a bright world
That waits "over there,"
But warble of this world
And banish your care;
Beyond the dark valley
Sweet heaven may be,
But the world is all right
And it's all here for me!
It has a few shadows
And something of tears,
But they only make brighter
The beautiful years;
And this world is so jolly
Whatever may grieve
That I'm not in a hurry
To pull up and leave!
The Kingbolt Philosopher.
"I've noticed," said Uncle Ezra Mudge, "thet many en many a time it ain't knowin' how to git up thet makes a success of a man so much ez knowin' how to git down. Sooner er later a tumble comes rollin' along fer the best of fellers, en before he knows what's a-comin' he's clear down at the bottom of the pile. The feller thet kin git up a-laffin' under sich peculierr sarcumstances is the feller thet wins out en is on top when Gabriel goes to tootin' of his horn; but the feller thet mopes aroun' en talks erbout whut he hez bin instid of tellin' whut he's a-goin' ter be is kivered over in the scrap-heap, world without end, ferever en ever, Amen!" And the old man knocked the ashes from his Missouri meerschaum and ambled into the kitchen where the long green hung.
God Give Us Change!
God give us change! The days are long
With labors hard that make us weary,
And o'er the gladness of each song
There floats a cadence somewhat dreary;
We'd like to loaf awhile, for—say—
Some five or ten sweet years, or twenty,
And chase the dull cares all away;
God give us change and give us plenty!
God give us change! The dull days flow
With quietude that palls a little;
Just anything to make it go
And heat the steam up in the kettle;
No matter how the fortunes kind
In dull monotony prove pleasant,
We'd rather mix things up and find
A stirring scramble of the present!
We do not ask for all the gifts
To fall upon us in a tumble;
A very few where life's boat drifts
Will keep us happy through the jumble;
We only ask the mirth of men,—
Where'er we be we'll always love it,
And if the big bills vanish, then
God give us change and plenty of it!
"The Sooners."
The "Sooners" may have their faults, but as a general propositions they are to be preferred to the "laters." Every good thing that has blest mankind since Adam had his celebrated adventure with green goods in the Garden of Eden, has been discovered, invented, dug out or dug up, by a "sooner." He has always been a dare-devil whose courage was so prominent as to attract the envy and malice of every "later" that whittled dry-goods boxes into splinters and used his time to cuss "the government." God bless the whole "sooner" tribe, say I, from Adam down to General Kuroki!
The home lights! The home lights!
How they blaze and burn
Through the darkness of the shadows
Everywhere we turn!
What if stormy weather gather
On the hills we roam,
We shall refuge find forever
In the lights of home!
Stand Pat.
In the mighty game of life,
Stand pat!
Don't be moved by storm or strife,
Stand pat!
Keep within your heart a song,
And the days will not be long,
Till you conquer every wrong,—
Stand pat, stand pat!
Don't be bluffed by this or that,—
Stand pat!
Half the howls are chitter-chat,—
Stand pat!
When you hold the ruling hand
You are always in command,
And you'll surely beat the band.—
Stand pat, stand pat!
There's no need to draw or fill,
Stand pat!
Play your cards to make a kill,
Stand pat!
If there's one that wants to raise,
Back your last chip while he plays
Till the chump no longer stays,—
Stand pat, stand pat!
There's a stack of reds and blues,
Stand pat!
For the chap that knows their use,
Stand pat!
When the game is o'er and won
Are the stakes that urged us on,
God will cash our chips at dawn,—
Stand pat, stand pat!