Part 22

WHEN FATHER SHOOK THE STOVE

'Twas not so many years ago, Say, twenty-two or three, When zero weather or below Held many a thrill for me. Then in my icy room I slept A youngster's sweet repose, And always on my form I kept My flannel underclothes. Then I was roused by sudden shock Though still to sleep I strove, I knew that it was seven o'clock When father shook the stove.

I never heard him quit his bed Or his alarm clock ring; I never heard his gentle tread, Or his attempts to sing; The sun that found my window pane On me was wholly lost, Though many a sunbeam tried in vain To penetrate the frost. To human voice I never stirred, But deeper down I dove Beneath the covers, when I heard My father shake the stove.

To-day it all comes back to me And I can hear it still; He seemed to take a special glee In shaking with a will. He flung the noisy dampers back, Then rattled steel on steel, Until the force of his attack The building seemed to feel. Though I'd a youngster's heavy eyes All sleep from them he drove; It seemed to me the dead must rise When father shook the stove.

Now radiators thump and pound And every room is warm, And modern men new ways have found To shield us from the storm. The window panes are seldom glossed The way they used to be; The pictures left by old Jack Frost Our children never see. And now that he has gone to rest In God's great slumber grove, I often think those days were best When father shook the stove.

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HOUSE-HUNTING

Time was when spring returned we went To find another home to rent; We wanted fresher, cleaner walls, And bigger rooms and wider halls, And open plumbing and the dome That made the fashionable home.

But now with spring we want to sell, And seek a finer place to dwell. Our thoughts have turned from dens and domes; We want the latest thing in homes; To life we'll not be reconciled Until we have a bathroom tiled.

A butler's pantry we desire, Although no butler do we hire; Nell's life will be one round of gloom Without a closet for the broom, And mine will dreary be and sour Unless the bathroom has a shower.

For months and months we've sat and dreamed Of paneled walls and ceilings beamed And built-in cases for the books, An attic room to be the cook's. No house will she consent to view Unless it has a sun room, too.

There must be wash bowls here and there To save much climbing of the stair; A sleeping porch we both demand-- This fad has swept throughout the land-- And, Oh, 'twill give her heart a wrench Not to possess a few doors, French.

I want to dig and walk around At least full fifty feet of ground; She wants the latest style in tubs; I want more room for trees and shrubs, And a garage, with light and heat, That can be entered from the street.

The trouble is the things we seek Cannot be bought for ten-a-week. And all the joys for which we sigh Are just too rich for us to buy. We have the taste to cut a dash: The thing we're lacking most is cash.

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AN EASY WORLD

It's an easy world to live in if you choose to make it so; You never need to suffer, save the griefs that all must know; If you'll stay upon the level and will do the best you can You will never lack the friendship of a kindly fellow man.

Life's an easy road to travel if you'll only walk it straight; When the clouds begin to gather and your hopes begin to fade, If you've only toiled in honor you won't have to call for aid.

But if you've bartered friendship and the faith on which it rests For a temporary winning; if you've cheated in the tests, If with promises you've broken, you have chilled the hearts of men; It is vain to look for friendship for it will not come again.

Oh, the world is full of kindness, thronged with men who want to be Of some service to their neighbors and they'll run to you or me When we're needing their assistance if we've lived upon the square, But they'll spurn us in our trouble if we've always been unfair.

It's an easy world to live in; all you really need to do Is the decent thing and proper and then friends will flock to you; But let dishonor trail you and some stormy day you'll find To your heart's supremest sorrow that you've made the world unkind.

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THE STATES

There is no star within the flag That's brighter than its brothers, And when of Michigan I brag, I'm boasting of the others. Just which is which no man can say-- One star for every state Gleams brightly on our flag to-day, And every one is great.

The stars that gem the skies at night May differ in degree, And some are pale and some are bright, But in our flag we see A sky of blue wherein the stars Are equal in design; Each has the radiance of Mars And all are yours and mine.

The glory that is Michigan's Is Colorado's too; The same sky Minnesota spans, The same sun warms it through; And all are one beneath the flag, A common hope is ours; Our country is the mountain crag, The valley and its flowers.

The land we love lies far away As well as close at hand; He has no vision who would say: This state's my native land. Though sweet the charms he knows the best, Deep down within his heart The farthest east, the farthest west Of him must be a part.

There is no star within the flag That's brighter than its brothers; So when of Michigan I brag I'm boasting of the others. We share alike one purpose true; One common end awaits; We must in all we dream or do Remain United States.