"Away With the Sorrow."

Away with the sorrow, The troubles and tears!

We'll laugh with the morrow Through all of the years.

Away with the errors That scourge as a rod!

Our sins and our terrors Shall vanish with G.o.d.

The sob of our sadness Shall cease bye and bye; Away to the gladness,-- We're bound for the sky.

The Real Article.

"Doan't yuh talk ter me erbout yoh tahrpin en clam-bakes en yoistah fries!" exclaimed a recently arrived Guthrie c.o.o.n. "Des' gib me sweet-'taters smotahed in 'possum gravy en all baked brown like we uster hab 'em down in ole Mississip! Go' way, n.i.g.g.ah! Dat wuz high-libben like de real ahticle, I done tole ye!"

The Bright Side.

I.

The bright side! The bright side! In spite of wind and snow, The summer comes in beauty and buds and blossoms grow, And whatsoe'er the fortune that brings the rose or rue, A kindly Heart in heaven is taking care of you!

II.

The bright side! The bright side!

Through all the hours of night, The holy stars are watching you with sentinels of light, And no matter how the sorrows may darken all the day, The pleasures come in legions and drive their ghosts away.

III.

The bright side! The bright side!

Though disappointments throng, Sweet labor lifts the burden and satisfies with song, And after all the sadness that shades the rugged life, There's glory for the struggle and slumber for the strife.

IV.

The bright side! The bright side!

The side that's always there Across the ways I wander and all the paths of care; No matter what the darkness, the storm of land or sea, The bright side still is shining, and that's the side for me!

Caught on the Fly.

Don't cry over spilled milk. Tie up another cow, and try it again.

Don't trail over the world hunting for happiness with a candle, when the sunshine Of G.o.d's mercy is over every thing.

Who can understand the deeps and heights of another's nature? Nay, who can measure and comprehend even his own?

Four-tined forks are splendid implements in the hay-field, but any fork is a mighty poor thing to impale the gorgeous bliss reposing in a ripe water-melon's ruddy heart.

The Weather Man's Mistakes.

No doubt, we all have troubles That arise from this and that, And we seldom make a home-run Though we're often at the bat; But the prince of all the fellows That performs the wildest breaks, Is the chap that brings the burdens Of the weather man's mistakes.

"Sunday, fair and cool and pleasant"

So you hie yourself away To the wild-wood sweet and shady For a joyous, happy day; Then the rain comes down in torrents Till it drowns the very snakes, And you have a high example Of the weather man's mistakes.

"Wednesday, storm, perhaps a cyclone!"

So you stay at home and wait, With your windows tightly shuttered For a hurricano great; But it's all as mild as morning, And you shout, "Of all the fakes!"

While you grumble, wildly helpless, At the weather man's mistakes.

And some day a patient people Turned to furies by their wrongs, Will arise and smite the building Where the weather man belongs; And whatever then shall happen, They will know the joy that wakes, When no longer made to suffer From the weatherman's mistakes!

In Supplication.

Dear Lord, I ask not that I live so long That all the joy is gathered, all the rose; But rather let me perish, ere the Song, The highest Hope and perfect Vision close!

"When the Roas'in'-Ears Air Plenty."

I.

Talk about the joys of winter! Whut's the fun of foolin' round With the posies dead en buried, en the snows upon the ground?

When the wind's a-tossin' blizzards in a most distressin' way Tell you have to set a-straddle of the fire-place all the day!

But I tell ye life's a-livin' when the summer grows the gra.s.s Over all the nooks en crannies whayre a feller's feet kin pa.s.s, En the whole world seems of heaven but a half-forgotten type, When the roas'in'-ears air plenty en the worter-millons ripe!