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The Commoner.
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The Architect of this department
offers- no apologies to his readers for
printing the following letters. They
touch on matters of interest to thou
sands, even Jf they are a bit per
sonal: Mountain View, Mo., June 12. So
many times in reading your sketches
in "Whether Common or Not" I
havo seemed" to he almost in your
presence, and could scarcely refrain
lrom writing you. Today's short ar
ticle on the cottage organ and the
old-time songs was the last straw.
I .remember you as a boy who came
to F and tried to mold public opin
ion and pay his board and the wages
of an oflice devil by means of a four-
: page patent-inside sheet issued week-.
ly from a dingy back room. I can
picture you when you came home
with my elstors, and in company
with your father, a devout man and
a minister of the gospel, you spent
Sunday evening with us and several
of the young folks and neighbors
who dropped in to sing around the
organ. I can almost hear your good
father say, between the verses of an
old-timo song, "The Gospel Ship,"
usually, "Say, that boy is sure a bad
one!" No jollier lad, no better sing
er, nor no more wide-awake, ever
came among us. , My father has gone
to the land your father preached
.bout. Perhaps yours has too, yet
it seems less than ten or twelve years
ago, although it must be more than
a quarter of a century. I have
missed very few copies of The Com
moner, and very few tlme3 have, I
missed reading your jmge, aid when
you fail to make appearance therein
I miss you greatly, "With you I can
not see that twenty-five or more
years have made those who seek a
jolly good time accomplish improve
ment upon the old ways. Tonight I
would rather spend rn hour or two
inthe company of and the manner of
twenty-five years ago, than in the.
way the young folks of today spend
their evenings. With you I say,
V&urrah for the old cottage organ
and the old cottage crowd especial-
'. ly the crowd!"
"A FRIEND OF THE 80's."
dollar each, Said Jimmy to Pat:
"Wo'll go back to the timber and
get them what wo saw and sell 'em
for a dollar apiece." So back to the
timber they went, and finally located
a bob cat with a litter of kittens in
a hollow tree. Says Jimmy to Pat:
"I'll go in and hand them out to
you to hold till I come out." In
wqnt Jimmy, but no sooner had he
grabbed a kitten than the mother
bob cat jumped on him and began
making it hot. Pat heard the com
motion and, peeking into the hole,
askdd: "Do yex want ino t' come in
an' help hold 'em?" "I should say
not," roared Jimmy, "bu f'r hivin's
sako come in an' help me let go."
I find that this story applies in many
ways. - CHAS. W. PARKER.
brought to memory for many, many
years "Sweet Belle Mahond." That
used to be as much of a favorito as
any rattlety-bangety "r timo" wont
of-today.
"Soon beyond the harbor bar
Shall my bark bo sailing far;
O'er this world I'll wander lone,
Sweet Belle Mahone."
My, 0 my. how we'd Hko to linar
the old village quartette sing It
again! And- there was that other
ouo, a sort of companion piece, "Pass
Under the Rod." This is the way It
started:
"I saw a young bride in her beauty
and pride,
Bedecked in her snowy array."
That's as far as I can remember
It, but I can still recall the tune,
and it's got a majority of the modern
topical songs beat to a frazzlo for
real melody and heart interest.
CairD, Ills., Juno 10. I see you
have a few lines in the issue of June
10, asking your readers to write tel
ling what struck them as the fun
niest story they over heard also their
favorite songs. I have heard so
many funny stories it is hard to pick
the funniest, but I have no hesita
tion in saying that my favorite song
is "Dixie." When I . think of the
funniest story I ever heard J will lot
you know what it is.
MILLARD R. McGRUDER,
Telegraph Editor Bulletin.
Gandy, Nebr., June 16. In your
department ill the last issue of The
Commoner you ask which is the best
of the' old songs, and wny people no
longer gather around the organ in
the evening and sing the old songs.
Answering the latter question I think
that the young people of today as a
rule havo not had instruction in the
art of reading notes and another
thing, the ago is too fast. The organ
is not now stylish enough. But we
older folks, say those around fifty
years of ago, still love to hear the
old songff sung to the accompaniment
of the cottage organ. What matter
if some of the voices are not as good
as they used to be? We still love
them for what they were once. As
to my choice of old songs It 1 pretty
hard to decide, for they all come to
me at times. But "Bonny Elolae"
and "Sweet Belle Mahone" used to
be my favorites. We seldom hear
them now, but when we do they
bring a flood of happy memories.
You ask for "the funniest story I
ever heard." Here Is the one that
struck me a the funniest: Two
Irishmen just over from the old
country were walking through the
country and saw: a lot of nob cats.
They did not know what they were,
but on arriving in a city they saw
a- large crowd around a man who
itood on a "box selling bob cats at a
Santa Ana, Calif., June 15. I read
in last week's Commoner your re
quest for funny stories and good old
songs. I will reply by saying that
"The Model Church" Is my favorite
song, and it can be found in many of
the old song books. As for funny
stories, I have never been considered
a howling success as a humorist, as
I have always had to face problems
of a serious nature which were cal
culated to develop the sober side of
me, yet when I see a humorous feat
ure cropping out so plain "that the
wayfaring man can see it with tho
naked eye, even I can recognize it.
And when I observe how some men
who think women are too ignorant
to vote, went to tho polls in 1908
and voted for the man whom the
strenuous one had chosen as a sub
stitute to carry out what, he was
pleased to designate as "my poli
cies;" of how later they went, in
their child-like confidence, denying
themselves meat in order to boycott
the meat trust, and how finally, when
they awoke from their dream and
realized what a gold brick they had
been handed, and how they were
only amusing the meat trust with
their little boycott, and are still
counting tho hours when the mighty
hunter shall cast a spell over tho
naughty meat trust when I behold
this spectacle of old simplicity itself
I turn aside from the busy throng,
seek a secluded spot and in the words
of the poet I say, despite my serious
nature, "Excuse me while I laugh."
R. L. SMITH.
My newspaper friend in Cairo ha3
seemingly mistaken the intent of my
queries. I submit that the words
to "Dixie" are slush, but when It
comes to a tune that sets the feet to
tapping and the blood to pounding
through one's veins, "Dixie" has 'em
all backed off tho boards. We all
stand up sedately when the band
plays t "America" or "Star Spangled
Banner," but when the band plays
"Dixie" wo just jump to our feet
and holler our heads off, and forget
for the moment that wo are staid
men and women. It's the tune, not
the words, that makes "Dixie" the
favorite national air.
A Caaace t Jtfnke Meaey
Yes, otcgnnt free homesteads can still
bo liad In Mexico whrro many Ameri
cana are now locating. You need not
pro to Mexico, but are required to have
Ave acres of fruit trccn planted within
Jive yearn. For Information address th
Jantha Plantation Co., Block S90, Pitts
burgh Pa. TJmy will plant and care for
your trees on shares, no you should
make a thousand dollars a year. It Is
never hot, never cold. The health con
ditions are perfect.
LKAltN AUCTJONKFCItlNti
ANI UK XNrJ5NIlI5NT
Knmtntrtrin Jn(n Nnt'l School oprnx July Vt
fflvn week). Free cntalnjpin will InWcut you.
Aildrrtuf CHrny M. JoHec, Vrel&vHt,2SVl-tAW
WavhliiKton Ulvtl., Chicago, IlllnolK.
CIGAtt .njEAJCJEJZS
can tacroaffe their mtrci by liMidtlnjt my climn.
Frcn Mmplea and price sent oh application. Will
tfveaxcltttivo right or territory.
W, C. ZERBE, Fredericksburg, Pa.
PATENTS
Wataea K Calrmaa
Fftteat Iw'er,WM)iljrl
D.CL A A yrich And book fr.
Ra4s rcaaeaaMe. JItebm ntttwxt. JtortMnrfetA,
That's a hully bunch of letters to
start with, and here's hoping that
they'll keep coming in. My "Friend
of ho '80's" writes a letter that calls
up a mighty fat lot of pleasant
memories. I'm sorry to hear that
his good old father, one of the real
"fathers in Israel" of those old days,
has passed away. Thank heaven my
own father still lingers with us,
bowed by the weight of years, but
till the same Jolly, good-natured
serene Christian gentleman that he
was In all the years gone by.
And Mr. Parker's letter calls to
mind on old soDg that hasn't been
I fear me that Brother Smith of
California is joking when he says ho
is not much of a hand at catching
tho humorous features of life. His
letter reads to me like the letter of
a man who is michtv a trick to kgq
the humorous side of thines: I- too.
have a warm spot in my heart for
Brother Smith's favorite sing, "The
Mpdel Church." Let's see, it starts
off like this, does it not?
"Well, wife, I've found the model
church,
And worshipped there today;
It made my poor old heart rejoice "
And right there memory fails. But
I've heard Knowles Shaw sing it
great-hearted, brave, . - splendid
Knowles Shaw, the man who wrote
"Bringing In the Sheaves" and "My
Beautiful Dream." I wish Brother
Smith would send me a copy of the
song. I'll remember the tune, all
right. And his mention of tjiat good
old song will serve as my excuse for
printing here a few little verses of
my own. Maybe they have appeared
in 'The Commoner, but if they did it
was so long ago that they'll seem
new now:
Tho Old Fashioned Prayer Meeting
I've sat in churches rich and grand,
with softly cushioned pews,
Where sunlight sifted on the floor
through richly stained' glass views;
I've heard the choirs sing songs for
pay, heard preachers preach by
note
From texts gleaned from some books
that no Apostle ever wrote.
But somehow I would feel a chill;
It didn't seem to me
To be quite like the meetings held
down by old Galilee.
I sat and yearned to meet and greet
that ever present Friend
Once more in a prayer meeting like
mother used to 'tend.
Tho little church with clapboard roof
and weatherboarded walls
Has always seemed a better place
than stately marble halls
In which to talk with Him who
walked among the poor and low,
And didn't watch subscription lists
to give a man a show.
It always seemed to me that He
would rather stand aloof
(Continued on Page 15)
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