ADAM'S FUNNY BONE
When Solomon Eusebius Josephus Alfred Jones
Was asked to give a lecture on the origin of bones
He solemnly declared to all the story was not true
That Eve was made from Adam's rib, since he, the learned, knew
That woman, who is all the cause of trouble on the earth
Yet rules the world and all mankind lo, from her very birth,
Was made by the Creator great from Adam's funny bone,
And that is why she giggles so when men are wont to groan.
QUEEN OF FLOWERHOOD
Ah, rose, sweet rose, majestic flower,
To rule as queen thou hast the power.
Within the realms of Flowerhood
In gardens, fields and in the wood.
Your sweetest perfume, Mother Earth,
For your first gift gave at your birth.
Your velvet touch she gave to you,
Your graceful form and varied hue.
But for thy beauty thou dost pay
By bringing joy on life's pathway.
You cheer the sick, console the sad
And make us mortals all feel glad.
NORTH POLE JINGLE
[To the Tune of "London Bridge Is Falling Down."]
To the North Pole we will go, we will go, we will go,
On a dog sledge o'er the snow, over the white snow.
There we'll see an Esquimau, Esquimau, Esquimau,
Sitting in his house of snow, in his house of snow.
And maybe a big polar bear, polar bear, polar bear,
With huge claws and long white hair, huge claws and white hair.
Walrus, reindeer, seal live there, seal live there, seal live there,
They think their land is wondrous fair, oh, so wondrous fair.
AN EATABLE ALPHABET
A for APPLE BUTTER stands,
B for BEANS known in all lands,
C for CHOW-CHOW, oh, how good!
D for DILL has ever stood,
E for EUCHRED PICKLES fine,
F for FIGS for which we pine,
G for GHERKINS to our taste,
H HORSERADISH none would waste,
I for INDIA RELISH sweet,
J for JELLIES none can beat,
K for KETCHUP for gods fit,
L for LADIES who make it.
M for MINCEMEAT that doth please,
N for NEW VARIETIES,
O for ONIONS that won't spoil,
P for PUREST OLIVE OIL.
Q QUEEN OLIVES we adore,
R for RELISH we cry more,
S for SOUP and SAUERKRAUT,
U for ALL WHO LOVE TO EAT
HEINZ DISHES NON COMPETE.
V for VINEGAR, the boss,
W WORCESTERSHIRE'S great sauce.
All the letters used you see
Except L, N, U, X, Y, Z.
And soon these letters Heinz will seize
To use for NEW VARIETIES.
The FIFTY-SEVENS' home will then
Give place to GREAT ONE HUNDRED TEN.
AT EASTER
As Easter breathes hope for a joyous to-morrow
E'en out of the depths of despair,
So may this day banish from you every sorrow
And make you feel free as the air.
While hearing grand anthems that swell to the sky,
And breathing sweet lilies' perfume,
May you feel assured that your soul will not die
As life does not end in the tomb.
THE GIRLS' ALPHABET
A for Adaline, so neat,
B for Bess, so clean and neat
C for Clara, always gay,
D for Doris, full of play.
E for Edith, with blue eyes
F for Flora, very wise.
G for Gertrude, called the good,
H for Helen, ever stood.
I for Ida, laughing maid,
J for Jenny, staunch and staid.
K for Kate, with golden locks,
L for Lucy, who wears socks.
M for Margaret, so straight,
N for Nell, who's never late.
O for Olive, always clean,
P for Polly, full of spleen.
Q for Queenie, who rules all,
R for Rhoda, straight and tall.
S for Sally, naughty girl,
U for Ursula, the fair,
V for Vida, with black hair.
W for Winnie stands,
X for Xenia, of far lands.
Y for Yoda, funny name,
Z for Zoe, who ends our game.
TO MY LEAP YEAR VALENTINE
Saint Bridget in the long ago
Won for all maids the right to go
Once in four years and seek a beau.
This year is leap year, as you know,
But as I've many a lovely bow
In quest of one I will not go.
But your dear image I enshrine
Within my heart, sweet valentine.
Have you a little place for mine?
I'M GLAD I'M NOT AN EXO
[One of Doctor M. V. O'Shea's Stories Jingled.]
The framework of the body is
The bones, so teachers say;
And if we didn't have 'em
Our shape it wouldn't stay.
Besides sans bones my liver
And brains and even heart
Would get some awful hurtin's
And maybe come apart.
If my poor bones were badly burned
All brittle I would be,
Since flames will kill the animal
That was born in me;
If I were soaked in acid
No tender sapling tree
Would be one-half so limber
But, thinking it all over,
If I should choose my fate
I'd rather soak in acid
Than burn in a hot grate.
Some of my bones, the wise men say,
Are very far apart,
While others cling together
Like jelly in a tart.
That is because the bones have joints,
And joints are good to have,
They help me be a pitcher
And save me lots of salve.
When all my bones are gathered
And put in their right place
They make a so-called skeleton,
A grinnin' in his face.
But if you leave out one small bone
Or put one in not right,
It won't be any skeleton,
The Exo critters' skeletons
Are placed on the outside,
I'm glad I'm not an EXO,
For if my Jane espied
Me lookin' like the skeleton
That's shown on teacher's chart,
I know she'd turn her nose right up
And say that we must part.
THREE CHEERS FOR TYPEWRITERS
Three cheers! the joyful children cried
When fierce and raging flames they spied
Destroying spellers, cause of woes,
And grammars, children's hated foes!
Three cheers again we hear them say,
The typewriters have come to stay,
To teach us all to read and spell
And punctuate so very well.
THE WORLD'S A MIRROR
If to the world we give our best
Of heart and soul and mind,
The world will render back to us
The best of every kind
Of thoughts and words and deeds of love
Which let us live on plains above
The sordid, ugly roads of life
Befouled with mud of hate and strife.
For life is but a mirror bright
Which smiles when we would smile
And tells us with a happy face
That everything's worth while,
But if we frown she frowns at us
And stirs up such a dreadful fuss
In all our ether rays around
If we but fill our aura round
With brightest rays of love
For every little living thing
Then we will win Peace Dove,
To safely guard us where we go
So we can never have a foe,
Since all will see our bright rays shine
As part of the Great Love Divine.
A MEMORY JOGGER FOR YOUR DESK
The wicked IMP called I FORGOT
To mortals ever woes has brought
By washing from their mental slate
Engagement dates—until too late,
These mortals waken in dismay
And we won't quote the things they say.
But if you'll keep ME ever near,
Bad "I FORGOT" cannot appear
For I will help you to remember
From January through December
Every promise, every date,
So "I FORGOT" can't make you late.
WILMINGTON'S SANTA CLAUS
In far away Alaska
By all it is believed
That Santa is a big white bear
From whom gifts are received.
And Wilmington's wee kiddies
Begin to think the same,
That a good BEAR is Santa—
At least that's Santa's name.
For when they need a playground,
A school, or book, or toy,
'Tis SAMUEL BEAR who grants each wish
And makes kids dance for joy.
So let all of us children
Invoke the powers above
To grant him long life, health and wealth,
And gratitude and love.
WILMINGTON'S GOOD FAIRY
There's a Santy in good Wilmington,
And a good fairy too,
Who brings all comforts to the poor
And proves a friend so true
To all the poor and needy,
Both the big and small.
He's always willing, ready
To help them one and all—
With kind words and with money,
With deeds of love and smiles
He helps men on Life's journey
To cross old Trouble's stiles.
And to this real live Fairy
The noble knight JAMES SPRUNT
Living in old Wilmington
On the street called Front
I dedicate this little song
And wish him every joy
In the melting pot of life
Without dread Woe's alloy.
MOTHER WOTSAT, OF WANAMAKERLAND
Of MOTHER WOTSAT you've heard tell
And if you've met this lovely belle,
You know she is not an old dame
Wrinkled, humpbacked, sadly lame.
Ah, no, she is a fine young maid
Who puts her sisters in the shade
With sparkling eyes and sylph-like form,
No wonder for her heart men storm.
But best of all, she has the art
To win each naughty kiddie's heart
By telling tales in rhyme and prose
Such tales as only WOTSAT knows.
And she is, oh, so very wise;
She answers kids of every size
When they call out, "Wotsat, and why?"
For she knows well just how to find
Answers for each thirsty mind,
And BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE FAIRY WELL
Is at her hand, great truths to tell.
TITANIA'S TOYLAND
Of fairies I've heard since the day of my birth,
Toystore makers, and givers of mirth;
But ne'er have I gazed on a real fairy-land
Till I came to Sterns' store—Titania's stand.
And there, as I entered, there burst on my view
A wonderful, marvelous, gigantic zoo
With camels and horses and elephants big,
Monkeys and donkeys, and even a pig,
Lions and tigers and great woolly bears
Looking as real as if in their lairs.
There were dolls of all nations and dolls of each size,
With black, brown and hazel, and even gray eyes.
There were balls big and little, wonderful toys
To please all the children, both good girls and boys;
For within Sterns' fairy-land we can all find
Titania's toys—of just every kind.
THE FAIRY CENTAPHRASE
If you would learn to speak good French
Without each awful rule
That all the would-be Frencheys use
When they attend French school,
Then seek the FAIRY CENTAPHRASE
He'll teach you how to say
Just everything you want to know
And in the proper way.
Through his delightful training box
Almost within a week
The best of French expressions
You will learn to speak
And ask for all the goodies
On menu cards we see
With just the proper accent
For breakfast, dinner, tea.
THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER
GODDESS PEACE, most gracious,
Give heed unto the prayer
Of all the little children
Who cry from everywhere,
And beg that you come quickly
To banish hateful WAR,
Whose bloody deeds barbaric
The children all abhor!
Oh, gladly we'll work with you
By loving one and all
Dear children of all races,
Of nations great and small.
And we all hope to bring on earth
Your messenger, PEACE-DOVE,
Through throwing out our ether rays
OF UNIVERSAL LOVE.
AN ODE TO A FAITHFUL DOG DUBBED PICKLES
[Best Friend of Mr. Thomas Shipp, Washington, D. C.]
Not half so cute is any maid
As PICKLES.
He puts us all deep in the shade,
Does PICKLES.
For though he boasts of years not four
To canine heights he well can soar
On wings he's found in Knowledge-Store,
Wise PICKLES.
He always has a wagging tail,
KIND PICKLES.
His Master Shipp he'll never fail,
Staunch PICKLES.
And that is why all folks who meet
This clever dog in home or street
Declare there is no one so sweet
AS PICKLES.
PEACE FORERUNNER—"LOVE MANKIND."
Little birdie, whispering here,
Tell me, does sweet peace draw near?
Little girl, I sadly fear
Peace will not bring Christmas cheer
While you mortals are so blind
To love your country, not your kind,
Peace can never dwell on earth,
Bringing comfort, joy and mirth,
Until UNIVERSAL LOVE
Paves the way for sweet Peace Dove.
Then, sweet bird, help me to bear
Your good message everywhere,
Begging friends to keep in mind
PEACE FORERUNNER—"LOVE MANKIND."
MUSIC
[These musical jingles were written for my teacher, Miss Matilda Orr Hays, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.]
There's music, music everywhere
On sea and land and in the air.
It sounds from all things far and near
And brings the weary rest and cheer.
'Tis in the rose and every flower;
'Tis in the storm and gentle shower;
'Tis in the waters of the brook
And every pleasant shady nook.
We hear its notes within the trees
And in the hum of busy bees.
'Tis in the song of every bird
And in the voice of woman heard.
But best of all 'tis in our hearts
And there Love's message it imparts,
For MUSIC is the tongue of Love,
The fairest gift from realms above.
ROBERT FRANZ
[1815-1892.]
By sweet love, the angel's gift,
Was Robert Franz inspired
To write sweet songs of home and love
Of which we're never tired.
Since Schubert's time no other man
Produced sweet songs so many
And for a number of these songs
He did not get a penny.
Songs two hundred seventy-nine
This music genius wrote
But ere he died like Beethoven
He could not hear a note.
And with his right arm paralyzed
He could not even play
And Liszt for him gave concerts
He died in abject poverty,
From grief almost insane
But left his songs to cheer us
And drive away our pain.
NATURE'S MUSIC
Where is Nature's music heard?
In hum of insect, song of bird,
In wailing of the wind at night,
In splashing of the wavelets bright
In angry howls when breakers roar
Against the rocks upon the shore.
'Tis in the Storm God's tearful moan;
In human voices' every tone.
When Jupiter his thunder rolls
'Tis Nature's music bell that tolls,
But only those with perfect ear
True sounds of Nature's Music hear.
FRÉDÉRIC FRANÇOIS CHOPIN
[Born at Zelazowa-Wola, near Warsaw, Poland—1809-1849.]
Though French blood flowed in Chopin's veins
His music was of Polish strains
As he was born in a Polish town,
Which for its name should win renown;
And Zelazowa-Wola stood
Above all cities great and good
In favor with great Chopin who
Was to his birthplace ever true.
When scarcely eight great Fame began
To court him ere he was a man.
But Fate was cruel as well as kind.
In love affairs he did not find
The comfort that his great soul sought
And which to him could have been brought
By only one, a lady wise,
Oft when we hear his waltzes sweet,
"Come dance, come dance," call to our feet
'Tis hard indeed for us to think
That Chopin oft stood on the brink
Of dreadful Melancholy's lair,
Where in great anguish and despair,
So sick in body, mind and soul,
With only Death as his sure goal,
Sweet and lively airs he wrote
And filled with joy his every note.
For ten long years the white plague sought
To take his life—for health he fought,
But when his sweetheart left his side
He ceased his fight and soon he died.
THE GREATEST KINGS OF MUSIC LAND
The six greatest kings of sweet Music Land
Are Beethoven, Mozart and Wagner the grand;
Great Handel and Bach and Haydn as well,
Who cast o'er the earth its musical spell.
GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL
[Born at Halle in Saxony—1685-1759.]
Of all music masters of whom you've heard tell
Great Handel was happiest for he was well,
Tall, handsome and wealthy, generous and kind,
Cheerful in heart and clever in mind.
Pinching dread poverty he never knew;
Surrounded by comforts from childhood he grew;
Though early in life as a very small lad
He wasn't content nor yet very glad
Because his stern father treated with scorn
His belief that for music he had been born.
Alone in an attic he practised each day;
Without any teacher he learned how to play
Until he was heard by a good kindly duke,
Who gave to Herr Handel a stinging rebuke
And made him consent, this father so stern,
To England George went when to manhood grown,
Adopting this country as his very own.
He was loved by the people of most every clime
And busy and happy just all of the time.
In days scarcely fifteen he wrote his great Saul,
And in nineteen more he had finished all
Of Israel in Egypt in whose every tone
The work of a master of music is shown.
And in but two weeks 'tis said that he wrote
His wondrous Messiah complete in each note.
But work without rest from morning till night
Deprived him, like Bach, of precious eye-sight.
For seven long years great Handel was blind,
But lost not his genius nor bright cheerful mind.
He worked every hour until his last breath
Was taken away by the cold Angel Death.
His body in Westminster Abbey was laid,
But the works of his genius will no, never fade.
LUDWIG VON BEETHOVEN
[Born in Bonn, Germany—1770-1827.]
Life is a blossom of sorrow and fun
And Beethoven's sorrow was early begun.
His father was cruel, no pleasure he had,
No wonder that much of his music is sad.
He lived in Vienna, which seldom he left;
Of most earthly joys this poor soul bereft.
The gods had deprived him of beauty of face,
His manners atrocious brought him disgrace.
No money had he and for many a year
Of music he loved no sound could he hear.
No wife to adore him, no children had he
To bring to his home "The Good Fairy Glee."
In rags and in sorrow and always alone
He walked in the fields where, with pitying moan,
He prayed he might hear the song of the trees
His prayers were not answered and no sound he heard
Of brooklets or breezes or sweet singing bird.
No wonder from earth he was glad to depart,
Dying, 'tis said, from a real broken heart.
JOHANNES BRAHMS
[Germany—1833-1897.]
Wagner once said "There are but three B's
In musical circles known,
Beethoven, Bach and Brahms the good
As masters stand alone."
Brahms's mother was a real old maid
Whom his young father wed.
In years full seventeen or more
She well could rank ahead.
But peace and love reigned in this home
And so Johannes grew
Into a gentle kindly lad
Who loved all whom he knew.
When Schumann heard this boy play
In rapture he cried out—
"Behold our new Messiah,
For many years this good man stood
At Clara Schumann's side
While she was fighting poverty
When her dear husband died.
He helped her rear her children,
With her in concerts played
And loved her with a pure true love
By the immortal made.
And when she died he had no wish
To live his life alone
And welcomed Death to come his way
And claim him as his own.
JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH
[Born at Eisenbach in Germany—1685-1750.]
In sixteen hundred eighty-five
Long, long before you were alive,
In the town of Eisenbach
Was born Johann Sebastian Bach.
From his father ever kind
And his brother he did find
The key to enter Music Land,
Which he found so sweet and grand.
No more industrious lad could be
Than Johann, who loved "Industry."
"The Mighty Master" he is known
Of the organ's every tone.
Twice this music master wed
And he was happy so 'tis said;
But he worked both day and night
Though he was blind he cheerful kept
And o'er his sorrow never wept,
And when he died he left a son,
To shine for him when his work was done.
FRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN
[Born in Rohrau, Austria—1732-1809.]
How often when a little chap
On Haydn's shoulders fell the strap.
E'er he was six as if a man
His struggles with the world began.
His parents could not write nor read.
A cousin said, "I'll gladly feed
And clothe young Joseph, who can sing
And to my pockets money bring."
But little food he gave to him
And plenty of the sharp peach limb.
When Joe then lost his tuneful voice
His cousin gave to him no choice
But turned him out to earn his way—
'Tis said he worked both night and day,
And, working thus, young Haydn rose
Rich he became and gained great fame
While all musicians love his name.
His greatest work was The Creation
And artists of most every nation
Ever bow down at his knee
As "Father of the SYMPHONY."