A Heap O' Livin Part 14

An' who spilled jelly on your s.h.i.+rt?

An' where'd you ever find the dirt That's on your hands? And my! Oh, my!

I guess those eyes have had a cry, They look so red. What was it, pray?

What has been happening here to-day?

An' then he drops his coat an' hat Upon a chair, an' says: "What's that?

Who knocked that engine on its back An' stepped upon that piece of track?"

An' then he takes me on his knee An' says: "What's this that now I see?

Whatever can the matter be?

Who strewed those toys upon the floor, An' left those things behind the door?

Who upset all those parlor chairs An' threw those blocks upon the stairs?

I guess a cyclone called to-day While I was workin' far away.

Who was it worried mamma so?

It can't be anyone I know."

An' then I laugh an' say: "It's me!

Me did most ever'thing you see.

Me got this b.u.mp the time me tripped.

An' here is where the jelly slipped Right off my bread upon my s.h.i.+rt, An' when me tumbled down it hurt.

That's how me got all over dirt.

Me threw those building blocks downstairs, An' me upset the parlor chairs, Coz when you're playin' train you've got To move things 'round an awful lot."

An' then my Pa he kisses me An' bounces me upon his knee An' says: "Well, well, my little lad, What glorious fun you must have had!"

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MOTHER'S DAY

Gentle hands that never weary toiling in love's vineyard sweet, Eyes that seem forever cheery when our eyes they chance to meet, Tender, patient, brave, devoted, this is always mother's way, Could her worth in gold be quoted as you think of her to-day?

There shall never be another quite so tender, quite so kind As the patient little mother; nowhere on this earth you'll find Her affection duplicated; none so proud if you are fine.

Could her worth be overstated? Not by any words of mine.

Death stood near the hour she bore us, agony was hers to know, Yet she bravely faced it for us, smiling in her time of woe; Down the years how oft we've tried her, often selfish, heedless, blind, Yet with love alone to guide her she was never once unkind.

Vain are all our tributes to her if in words alone they dwell.

We must live the praises due her; there's no other way to tell Gentle mother that we love her. Would you say, as you recall All the patient service of her, you've been worthy of it all?

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DIVISION

You cannot gather every rose, Nor every pleasure claim, Nor bask in every breeze that blows, Nor play in every game.

No millionaire could ever own The world's supply of pearls, And no man here has ever known All of the pretty girls.

So take what joy may come your way, And envy not your brothers; Enjoy your share of fun each day, And leave the rest for others.

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A MAN

A man doesn't whine at his losses, A man doesn't whimper and fret, Or rail at the weight of his crosses And ask life to rear him a pet.

A man doesn't grudgingly labor Or look upon toil as a blight; A man doesn't sneer at his neighbor Or sneak from a cause that is right.

A man doesn't sulk when another Succeeds where his efforts have failed; Doesn't keep all his praise for the brother Whose glory is publicly hailed; And pa.s.s by the weak and the humble As though they were not of his clay; A man doesn't ceaselessly grumble When things are not going his way.

A man looks on woman as tender And gentle, and stands at her side At all times to guard and defend her, And never to scorn or deride.

A man looks on life as a mission.

To serve, just so far as he can; A man holds his n.o.blest ambition On earth is to live as a man.

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A VOW

I might not ever scale the mountain heights Where all the great men stand in glory now; I may not ever gain the world's delights Or win a wreath of laurel for my brow; I may not gain the victories that men Are fighting for, nor do a thing to boast of; I may not get a fortune here, but then, The little that I have I'll make the most of.

I'll make my little home a palace fine, My little patch of green a garden fair, And I shall know each humble plant and vine As rich men know their orchid blossoms rare.

My little home may not be much to see; Its chimneys may not tower far above; But it will be a mansion great to me, For in its walls I'll keep a h.o.a.rd of love.

I will not pa.s.s my modest pleasures by To grasp at shadows of more splendid things, Disdaining what of joyousness is nigh Because I am denied the joy of kings.

But I will laugh and sing my way along, I'll make the most of what is mine to-day, And if I never rise above the throng, I shall have lived a full life anyway.

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TREASURES

Some folks I know, when friends drop in To visit for awhile and chin, Just lead them round the rooms and halls And show them pictures on their walls, And point to rugs and tapestries The works of men across the seas; Their loving cups they show with pride, To eyes that soon are stretching wide With wonder at the treasures rare That have been bought and gathered there.

But when folks come to call on me, I've no such things for them to see.

No picture on my walls is great; I have no ancient family plate; No tapestry of rare design Or costly woven rugs are mine; I have no loving cup to show, Or strange and valued curio; But if my treasures they would see, I bid them softly follow me.

And then I lead them up the stairs Through trains of cars and Teddy bears, And to a little room we creep Where both my youngsters lie asleep, Close locked in one another's arms.

I let them gaze upon their charms, I let them see the legs of brown Curled up beneath a sleeping gown, And whisper in my happiness: "Behold the treasures I possess."

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CHALLENGE

Life is a challenge to the bold, It flings its gauntlet down And bids us, if we seek for gold And glory and renown, To come and _take_ them from its store, It will not meekly hand them o'er.

Life is a challenge all must meet, And n.o.bly must we dare; Its gold is tawdry when we cheat, Its fame a bitter snare If it be stolen from life's clutch; Men must be true to prosper much.

Life is a challenge and its laws Are rigid ones and stern; The splendid joy of real applause Each man must n.o.bly earn.

It makes us win its jewels rare, But gives us paste, if we're unfair.

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A TOAST TO HAPPINESS

To happiness I raise my gla.s.s, The goal of every human, The hope of every clan and cla.s.s And every man and woman.