Part 17 (1/2)

His Dog

Pete bristles when the doorbell rings.

Last night he didn't act the same.

Dogs have a way of knowin' things, An' when the dreaded cable came, He looked at mother an' he whined His soft, low sign of somethin' wrong, As though he knew that we should find The news that we had feared so long.

He's followed me about the place An' hasn't left my heels to-day; He's rubbed his nose against my face As if to kiss my grief away.

There on his plate beside the door You'll see untouched his mornin' meal.

I never understood before That dogs share every hurt you feel.

We've got the pride o' service fine As consolation for the blow; We know by many a written line He went the way he wished to go.

We know that G.o.d an' Country found Our boy a servant brave an' true-- But Pete must sadly walk around An' miss the master that he knew.

The mother's bearing up as well As such a n.o.ble mother would; The hurt I feel I needn't tell-- I guess by all it's understood.

But Pete--his dog--that used to wait Each night to hear his cheery call, An' romped about him at the gate, Has felt the blow the worst of all.

Lullaby

The golden dreamboat's ready, all her silken sails are spread, And the breeze is gently blowing to the fairy port of Bed, And the fairy's captain's waiting while the busy sandman flies With the silver dust of slumber, closing every baby's eyes.

Oh, the night is rich with moonlight and the sea is calm with peace, And the angels fly to guard you and their watch shall never cease, And the fairies there await you; they have splendid dreams to spin; You shall hear them gayly singing as the dreamboat's putting in.

Like the ripple of the water does the dreamboat's whistle blow, Only baby ears can catch it when it comes the time to go, Only little ones may journey on so wonderful a s.h.i.+p, And go drifting off to slumber with no care to mar the trip.

Oh, the little eyes are heavy but the little soul is light; It shall never know a sorrow or a terror through the night.

And at last when dawn is breaking and the dreamboat's trip is o'er, You shall wake to find the mother smiling over you once more.

The Old-Fas.h.i.+oned Parents

The good old-fas.h.i.+oned mothers and the good old-fas.h.i.+oned dads, With their good old-fas.h.i.+oned la.s.sies and their good old-fas.h.i.+oned lads, Still walk the lanes of loving in their simple, tender ways, As they used to do back yonder in the good old-fas.h.i.+oned days.

They dwell in every city and they live in every town, Contentedly and happy and not hungry for renown; On every street you'll find 'em in their simple garments clad, The good old-fas.h.i.+oned mother and the good old-fas.h.i.+oned dad.

There are some who sigh for riches, there are some who yearn for fame, And a few misguided people who no longer blush at shame; But the world is full of mothers, and the world is full of dads; Who are making sacrifices for their little girls and lads.

They are growing old together, arm in arm they walk along, And their hearts with love are beating and their voices sweet with song; They still share their disappointments and they share their pleasures, too, And whatever be their fortune, to each other they are true.

They are watching at the bedside of a baby pale and white, And they kneel and pray together for the care of G.o.d at night; They are romping with their children in the fields of clover sweet, And devotedly they guard them from the perils of the street.