Just Folks - Part 3
Library

Part 3

And so on lakes and streams and brooks The Good Lord fashioned fishing nooks.

Show the Flag

Show the flag and let it wave As a symbol of the brave Let it float upon the breeze As a sign for each who sees That beneath it, where it rides, Loyalty to-day abides.

Show the flag and signify That it wasn't born to die; Let its colors speak for you That you still are standing true, True in sight of G.o.d and man To the work that flag began.

Show the flag that all may see That you serve humanity.

Let it whisper to the breeze That comes singing through the trees That whatever storms descend You'll be faithful to the end.

Show the flag and let it fly, Cheering every pa.s.ser-by.

Men that may have stepped aside, May have lost their old-time pride, May behold it there, and then, Consecrate themselves again.

Show the flag! The day is gone When men blindly hurry on Serving only G.o.ds of gold; Now the spirit that was cold Warms again to courage fine.

Show the flag and fall in line!

Constant Beauty

It's good to have the trees again, the singing of the breeze again, It's good to see the lilacs bloom as lovely as of old.

It's good that we can feel again the touch of beauties real again, For hearts and minds, of sorrow now, have all that they can hold.

The roses haven't changed a bit, nor have the lilacs stranged a bit, They bud and bloom the way they did before the war began.

The world is upside down to-day, there's much to make us frown to-day, And gloom and sadness everywhere beset the path of man.

But now the lilacs bloom again and give us their perfume again, And now the roses smile at us and nod along the way; And it is good to see again the blossoms on each tree again, And feel that nature hasn't changed the way we have to-day.

Oh, we have changed from what we were; we're not the carefree lot we were; Our hearts are filled with sorrow now and grave concern and pain, But it is good to see once more, the blooming lilac tree once more, And find the constant roses here to comfort us again.

A Patriotic Creed

To serve my country day by day At any humble post I may; To honor and respect her flag, To live the traits of which I brag; To be American in deed As well as in my printed creed.

To stand for truth and honest toil, To till my little patch of soil, And keep in mind the debt I owe To them who died that I might know My country, prosperous and free, And pa.s.sed this heritage to me.

I always must in trouble's hour Be guided by the men in power; For G.o.d and country I must live, My best for G.o.d and country give; No act of mine that men may scan Must shame the name American.

To do my best and play my part, American in mind and heart; To serve the flag and bravely stand To guard the glory of my land; To be American in deed: G.o.d grant me strength to keep this creed!

Home

The road to laughter beckons me, The road to all that's best; The home road where I nightly see The castle of my rest; The path where all is fine and fair, And little children run, For love and joy are waiting there As soon as day is done.

There is no rich reward of fame That can compare with this: At home I wear an honest name, My lips are fit to kiss.

At home I'm always brave and strong, And with the setting sun They find no trace of shame or wrong In anything I've done.

There shine the eyes that only see The good I've tried to do; They think me what I'd like to be; They know that I am true.

And whether I have lost my fight Or whether I have won, I find a faith that I've been right As soon as day is done.

The Old-Time Family

It makes me smile to hear 'em tell each other nowadays The burdens they are bearing, with a child or two to raise.

Of course the cost of living has gone soaring to the sky And our kids are wearing garments that my parents couldn't buy.

Now my father wasn't wealthy, but I never heard him squeal Because eight of us were sitting at the table every meal.

People fancy they are martyrs if their children number three, And four or five they reckon makes a large-sized family.

A dozen hungry youngsters at a table I have seen And their daddy didn't grumble when they licked the platter clean.

Oh, I wonder how these mothers and these fathers up-to-date Would like the job of buying little shoes for seven or eight.

We were eight around the table in those happy days back them, Eight that cleaned our plates of pot-pie and then pa.s.sed them up again; Eight that needed shoes and stockings, eight to wash and put to bed, And with mighty little money in the purse, as I have said, But with all the care we brought them, and through all the days of stress, I never heard my father or my mother wish for less.

The Job

The job will not make you, my boy; The job will not bring you to fame Or riches or honor or joy Or add any weight to your name.

You may fail or succeed where you are, May honestly serve or may rob; From the start to the end Your success will depend On just what you make of your job.

Don't look on the job as the thing That shall prove what you're able to do; The job does no more than to bring A chance for promotion to you.

Men have shirked in high places and won Very justly the jeers of the mob; And you'll find it is true That it's all up to you To say what shall come from the job.

The job is an incident small; The thing that's important is man.

The job will not help you at all If you won't do the best that you can.

It is you that determines your fate, You stand with your hand on the k.n.o.b Of fame's doorway to-day, And life asks you to say Just what you will make of your job.

Toys

I can pa.s.s up the lure of a jewel to wear With never the trace of a sigh, The things on a shelf that I'd like for myself I never regret I can't buy.

I can go through the town pa.s.sing store after store Showing things it would please me to own, With never a trace of despair on my face, But I can't let a toy shop alone.

I can throttle the love of fine raiment to death And I don't know the craving for rum, But I do know the joy that is born of a toy, And the pleasure that comes with a drum I can reckon the value of money at times, And govern my purse strings with sense, But I fall for a toy for my girl or my boy And never regard the expense.