"J5pfV rwfK - t j ' i iu li The Commoner DECEMBER, 1914 29 i.: Songs of the Days Gone By Of all the days that's in the week I dearly love hut one day, And that's the day that comes be- , ' twixt A Saturday and Monday. Henry Carey. And then it went on about Sally in our alley, which meant the girl we loved best, whether she lived in an alley, or down a farm lane,' or over the hill, for it never was far to where she lived, although others mignt ng ure out that it was several miles. . While Mr. Carey wrote love songs, and the like, and so:ne of them are still alive and singable, his greatest, and most enduring work was the na tional song of England, VGod Save the Kingv", To write songs that live the au thor must hold the human interest key to the heart, for it is their hu man interest that perpetuates them. SWEET KITTY CLYDE Maybe you never heard this once popular song, almost universally pop ular, as it had a big run in Europe. If not, ask your elders, even back to your grandparents, for it is no last spring's song. Oh! who has not seen Kitty- Clyde? She lives at the foot of the hill In a sly little nook, By the babbling brook, That carries her father's old mill. Oh! who does not love Kitty Clyde? That sunny-eyed, rosy-cheeked lass, With a sweet dimpled chin, That looks roguish as sin, With always a smile as you pass. Chorus Sweet Kitty, dear Kitty, My own sweet Kitty. Clyde, In a sly little nook By the babbling brook,, ft Lives my own sweet Kitty Clyde. With a basket to put in her fish, Every morning with line and a hook, This sweet little lass Through the tall, heavy grass, Steals along by the clear' running -brook. .She throws her line into the stream, And trips along the brook side. Oh! how I wish that I were a fish To be caught by sweet Kitty Clyde. How I wish that I were a bee. . I'd not gather honey from flowers; But would steal a sip From Kitty's sweet lip And make my own hive in her bow ers Or if I were some little bird I would not build nests in the air; i But keep close by the side, of sweet Kitty Clyde And sleep in her soft, silken hair. OLD FAVORITES Away back yonder the people were as songful, and as soulful as they aTe now, if not more so. Then songs meant something besides jingle and ragtime. There were foolish songs, to be sure, but they were meant to bo foolish. ,, , Now and then you would hear a bit from some opera, and not badly rendered, as a song. One of the fa vorites was "The Gypsy's Warning from "II Trovatore." It is a love song, of a kind, and suggests a' state o affairs most to be dreaded, it ran thus: "Trust him not, oh, gentle lady, Though his voice be low and sweet, Heed not hiiu who kneels Defore you, Gently pleading at thy feet. Now thy life is in its morning, Cloud not thus thy sunny lot; Listen to the gipsy's warning, Gentle lady. trust him not. . - Of, ..course it. wasn'.t aujig- with wnA nnora fiffflcfc. but it answered the purpose all right among the mu- sically uncultured. The air was pleasing, and the words appealed to all interested in the very important matter of love. AND THERE WERE OTHERS "I have wandered today to the hill, Maggie, To watch the scenes below The creek, and the creaking old mill, Maggie, As we used to, long ago. are aged and gray, "But now wo Maggie, The trials of life nearly done. Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie, When you and I were young. When,it carnc to something serious as well' as sentimental, "Lorena" never failed to give satisfaction. You may have heard this yourself, for it is still on the list of good sen timental S0LoS. "The story of the past, Lorena, Alas! I care not to repeat. The hopes that could not last, Lor ena, They lived, but only lived to cheat. I would nptfcause e'en one regret To rankle in thy bosoni now. For 'if we try, we may forget' These words of thine, long years ago. "It matters little "now, Lorena, The past is in the eternal past. Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena, Life's tide is ebbing out so fast. There is a future, Oh, thank God! Of life this is so small a part, Tis dust to dust, beneath the sod, But there, u.) there, 'tis heart to heart. Aniong the prime favorites, and still, in. vogue, was Tom- Moore's charming ballad: "Oft in the 3tilly night, - Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyej that shone Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful heart's now broken." YOU CAN'T FORGET "Allow me to write the songs of a people and I care not who writes their philosophy," some one has said, and if you think of the influence of the songs of your mother, and those sung around the fireside when you were young, you ma7 ieei jiko uBre ing with him as to the power of song. Erasmus Wilson, from Pittsburg Gazette. WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN (Nashville Tennessean) When he "rst came into national prominence we saw him capture the nation with the power of his genius. We saw him sway the multitude with his words of wisdom, and amaze and terrorize the enemies of free institutions with the logic of his speech. We saw, him rise from l the disaster of defeat again and again, and each time he had the confidence of the people. We saw him as a ?wice defeated candidate for presi dent on a foreign tour nonored by the nations of the world. We saw this defeated man return to hit 5 na tive land, honored by all the ciyll Id naSons on tho earth and l greeted by his own people as no otner private, citizen has ever Deen greeted And we have asked why this man should touch the human .heart of every nation and appeal to the hu man conscience in -eyery -land? The fnRwer is Bryan himself. Constant fn his devotion to principle, firm in conviction, consistent in his course, bravo and steadfast, ho stands be fore tho world tho incarnation of un selfish patriotism. As tho mark of hostile critics he has been misrepresented, maligned and slandered, but over it all ho haB triumphed, towering as an Intellect ual and moral giant, tho champion of tho purest principles and the noblest sentiments that have ever possessed a groat and powerful peo ple. What was onco in scorn and con tempt termed Bryanlsm is being written into the laws of the states, the constitutions and into tho stat utes of tho nation. Those who once derided this man for his fallacies are now singing his praises for his virtues. Those who once abused him for his iniquity are Utterly Uadeaa . "John," asked Mrs. Dorkins, "what? la a 'political con game?' " 5 "Why, if it's a Trame-up, yoit know." "Yes, but what is . frame-up?" I "A-ora pioco of bunk, of course;; can't you " $ "What is a piece of hunk?" ? "Oh, shucks!" exclaimed Mr. Dor kinB. "What's tho use of trying, tf, tell a woman anything about pplf-j tics?" Chicago Tribune. It's no fun for a woman to tell a secret to aityono she thinks will keep it. Chicago Herald. LEARN now lauding him for tho sanity and RrA'Sirwwt Strength Of Ills convictions, I Jntlttile, Nevada, Mo. HugftftNllve T)iurAH)Htle. A courno oT contlnl which, may bo crmtplotctf tit homo In IM) hnurx. courlw, UHiminnniL prnctiraJ. Wnll rulnplcd for u of ptiyxICAnr. For , i. u., vi winner No wonder this man will remain in politics, for the crowning glory of his life will bo when his creed of universal justice shall have been written deeply into tho statutes of his country. Taylor' "Stahot" Water Bottle fc...... -2rtt. andSYRINUt 6 Mentha Trlml ut4 S Ymts -JBJSmArtiVPPfc. Uhaff Mill l10 4Uir U4. nUNJN TAYLOR COMPANY Prlc S3 WfHtf, Handiest Tool Made FOR GRIPPING NUTS ft f ITTIN The jS0. LmPrr ,IHiaiM Tffl I , M . m:!rjfc wNAwif Ij, TO Wvyu WJW, a t Ailllll Mil m, ' liJK"" IIIIIIJI1II111I1 I ' i i TTT ILiliWlRE CUTTER I I SCREW DRIVER FOR GRIPPING RODS AND SMALL; PIPE. STAPLE PULLER iiiinnm Zaftp? WIRE SPLICER For All Around Homestead and Farm Use W0& 4 ' Our Combination Fence Plier will work' in closer quarters than any wrench. No farmer can afford to be without one. It will cut and splice wire, pull staples, grip pipe rods and nuts, and has a screw driver at- tachment. There are hundreds of uses for this little tool. 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