MY AMERICAN COUSINS.
Because they speak the tongue that's mine,
Rich in the treasure that belongs
To them as well as me, and twine
Their heart-strings in our English songs,
I knew they'd scorn those German threats
And sham regrets.
Because their country's name is scrolled
With Liberty's; because her fate,
Like England's own, must be unrolled
In Freedom still, they had to hate
The thought of bowing down before
A Lord of War.
And now they'll lavish in the strife
The gold they've scorned to love too well,
And fleets to bring the food that's life,
And guns of death, and steel and shell;
Defeat or triumph, stand or fall,
They'll share their all.
They're out for business; now's their Day;
They took their time, but finished right;
The heat got slowly comes to stay;
Patient for peace means firm in fight;
And so their country still shall be
Land of the Free.
"Remarkable scenes were witnessed at Exeter yesterday at the free distribution of 10,000 lbs. of potatoes in 5 lb. lots. Five thousand people obtained 5 lbs. each."—Sunday Paper.
This result was obtained by the forethought of the distributors, who had the potatoes laid out on multiplication tables.
Farmer. "What the blazes are you doing? And with them 'orses standin' hidle?"
Tommy. "Cleanin' me buttons. 'Aven't you never been a soldier?"