The Wit and Humor of America
Chapter 175 : HOLLY SONG BY CLINTON SCOLLARD Care is but a broken bubble, Trill the carol, troll the

HOLLY SONG

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD

Care is but a broken bubble, Trill the carol, troll the catch; Sooth, we'll cry, "A truce to trouble!"

Mirth and mistletoe shall match.

_Happy folly! we'll be jolly!

Who'd be melancholy now?

With a "Hey, the holly! Ho, the holly!"

Polly hangs the holly bough._

Laughter lurking in the eye, sir, Pleasure foots it frisk and free.

He who frowns or looks awry, sir, Faith, a witless wight is he!

_Merry folly! what a volley Greets the hanging of the bough!

With a "Hey, the holly! Ho, the holly!"

Who'd be melancholy now?_

SONGS WITHOUT WORDS

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

I can not sing the old songs, Though well I know the tune, Familiar as a cradle song With sleep-compelling croon; Yet though I'm filled with music As choirs of summer birds, "I can not sing the old songs"-- I do not know the words.

I start on "Hail Columbia,"

And get to "heav'n-born band,"

And there I strike an up-grade With neither steam nor sand; "Star Spangled Banner" downs me Right in my wildest screaming, I start all right, but dumbly come To voiceless wreck at "streaming."

So, when I sing the old songs, Don't murmur or complain If "Ti, diddy ah da, tum dum,"

Should fill the sweetest strain.

I love "Tolly um dum di do,"

And the "trilla-la yeep da"-birds, But "I can not sing the old songs"-- I do not know the words.

TRIOLETS

BY C.W.M.

She threw me a kiss, But why did she throw it?

What grieves me is this-- She threw me a kiss; Ah, what chances we miss If we only could know it!

She threw me a kiss But why did she throw it!

Any girl might have known When I stood there so near!

And we two all alone Any girl might have known That she needn't have thrown!

But then girls are so queer!

Any girl might have known, When I stood there so near!

WHAT SHE SAID ABOUT IT

BY JOHN PAUL

Lyrics to Inez and Jane, Dolores and Ethel and May; Senoritas distant as Spain, And damsels just over the way!

It is not that I'm jealous, nor that, Of either Dolores or Jane, Of some girl in an opposite flat, Or in one of his castles in Spain,

But it is that salable prose Put aside for this profitless strain, I sit the day darning his hose-- And he sings of Dolores and Jane.

Though the winged-horse must caracole free-- With the pretty, when "spurning the plain,"

Should the team-work fall wholly on me While he soars with Dolores and Jane?

_I_ am neither Dolores nor Jane, But to lighten a little my life Might the Poet not spare me a strain-- Although I am only his wife!

AN EDUCATIONAL PROJECT

BY ROY FARRELL GREENE

Since schools to teach one this or that Are being started every day, I have the plan, a notion pat, Of one which I am sure would pay.

'Twould be a venture strictly new, No shaking up of dusty bones; How does the scheme appeal to you?

A regular school for chaperones!

One course would be to dull the ear, And one would be to dim the eye, So whispered love they'd never hear, And glance coquettish never spy; They'd be taught somnolence, and how Ofttimes closed eye for sleep atones; Had I a million, I'd endow A regular school for chaperones!

There's crying need in West and East For graduates, and not a source Supplying it. Some one at least Should start a correspondence course; But joy will scarce o'errun the cup Of maidenhood, my candor owns, Till some skilled Mentor opens up A regular school for chaperones!

THE CAMP-MEETING

BY BAYNARD RUST HALL

The camp was furnished with several stands for preaching, exhorting, jumping and jerking; but still one place was the pulpit, above all others. This was a large scaffold, secured between two n.o.ble sugar trees, and railed in to prevent from falling over in a swoon, or springing over in an ecstasy; its cover the dense foliage of the trees, whose trunks formed the graceful and ma.s.sive columns. Here was said to be also the _altar_, but I could not see its _horns_ or any _sacrifice_; and the pen, which I _did_ see--a place full of clean straw, where were put into fold stray sheep willing to return. It was at this pulpit, with its altar and pen, the regular preaching was done; around here the congregation a.s.sembled; hence orders were issued; here, happened the hardest fights, and were gained the greatest victories, being the spot where it was understood Satan fought in person; and here could be seen gestures the most frantic, and heard noises the most unimaginable, and often the most appalling. It was the place, in short, where most crowded either with praiseworthy intentions of getting some religion, or with unholy purposes of being amused; we, of course, designing neither one nor the other, but only to see philosophically and make up an opinion.