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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (May 19, 1918)
TIE OMAHA SUNDAY BEE: MAY 19, 1918. pedal Pa Omaha mj Lflttl Hfoiniey -Mafari , I v J ' - i Ml for TSu i i 2 4; It s:. 3 'J 4 JEEEEE BUSY BEE CIET Y EEEEEEf H-M-M-H NOTE Busy Bees will please -MHH- i yv i - WAftnAjiTTt.fftH PHOTO In the Bee Hive , D' .EAR Busy Bees: This is Red Cross Sunday! The work of the Red Cross is being talked of in the Sunday schools and churches of our city today.k Next week all the chil dren in Omaha are going to do their bit to swell the fund. "It's Fun to " Swell the Fund" will be the slogan of ill patriotic boys and girls. r; Loving deeds that little brothers ind sisters would do for the boys in khaki are being done by Red Cross nurses on the battlefields of France, tnd all the helpless litttle children are eing cared for, too. The French children have a pretty fairy tale abdnt the origin of the Red Cross and Captain Haleau, who was lere to buy horses for his govern- ment, told me about it. The captain used 'to look very sad because he was hurt in his bawk and couldn't fight any , more, for he had spent several vears in the trejiches and was eager 2l to do" more for his dear France. Once upon a time a very, noble and good man was hurt on the battlefield and an angel from heaven came down to help him, and, dipping his finger in the blood of the hero, made the sign of the cross, and so from that day to this the Red Cross has meant help and loving kindness. We are all planning to take an ac tive part in this week's drive, and many Busy Beeswill give up gum and candy and the movies to give the money to the Red Cross fund, for "It's fun to swell the fund," isn't it? .Lovingly, MARGARET. Boys Needed. f Boys, we want you, tool This is the A, cry of the junior auxiliary of the .Episcopalian cnurches. for many j -years there has been a girls branch -sT of the junior auxiliary for missionary work and now boys are asked to join vfi and help send food, clothes, books and ' teachers of Christianity to the heath- ens. The girls have made a splendid showing, and now with the help of the boys there ought to be some very interesting and effective work done. In unity there is strength, and soon . the junior branch of missionary work J v will be one of the strongest and best in the missionary field. " Sunday School Picnic. Abbott's farm, a mile out of Flor id ence, is a most popular spot these days. On Saturday Caroline Abbott was hostess and a group of Westmin ster Presbyterian Sunday school girls came out for a picnic. They looked ... at the gardens and fruit trees and , played with the pigs and chickens, t and had lunch in the orchard. Those present were Helen Grey. Elma Good win, Louise Arnold, Margaret Harlow, ! Mitdred Brown and Caroline Abbott. Picnic and Hike. ' Adelaide Finley, Ruth Chatfield, Lucile Race, Josephine Blackwood, Claire Abhptt and Kenneth Stiles hiked to Elmwood for a picnic last Saturday. Kenneth was the only boy in the party and it was a good thing that he was along, for three snakes were discovered and he is not afraid of snakes. Brother in Army. Flora Root visited her brother, Sergeant E. A. Root, in Kansas City last week before he was transferred from Camp Funston to Camp Lee, Flora is very proud to have a brother in Uncle Sam's army and spends her tiny knitting socks for him and writ-. ; ir.g him nice, homey letters. Edit School Paper. ,." Saunders school is one of the most unusual in the city because the pupils Jearn, so many things besides reading, writing and arithmetic. Now they are editing a school paper and it's full of interesting items. It is quite an honor to write something good enough to be published and the pupils study composition work very hard so ' that they can become real editors. "GOODBY, OLD FRIEND!" (An actual Incident on the road to a battery position In Southern Flanders) Onl a dvlng horse! Pull off the gear And Blip the needless bit from frothing Jaws. Drag It aside there leave the roadway clear The battery thunders on with scarce a . pause. Frone by the shell-swept highway there It lies With quivering limbs, as fast the life tide falls. Dark films are closing o'er the faithful eyes That mutely plead for aid where none avails. Onward the battery rolls but one there speeds. Heedless of comrade's voles or bursting shell Back to a wounded friend who lonely bleeds Beside the stony highway where It fell. Only a dying horse! He swiftly kneels. Lifts the limp head and hears the ahlver Ing sigh. Kisses the horse while down his cheek there steals Sweet "Pity's tear "Goodby, old man, goodby!' No honors wait him. medal, badge or star. Though scarce. -could war a kindlier deed unfold; Hp bears within his breast, more precious . faf - f -- - Beyond the gift of kings, a heart of gold. J. send their society items to Mar- J. r ffaret Shotwell. Busy Bee So- X cietv Editor, care Bee Office 1 . The Hag I Love Do you ask which flag I love? Ths big flag which floats abovt A tall flagpole up io high That It item) to touch tha iky. How I loved to see It blow. Didn't know I loved It so: With Its stripes of white and red WavHtg high above my head. Until Daddy went away. Now It's dearer every day; Makes me think of him, you know, That Is why I love It so. There's another flag I Tov, Like the one that floats above, It Is red and white and blue, Little flag of service, true. The blue star, that shines so bright, In Its snowy field of white. Shines for my own Daddy, dear; How I wish that he was here! When I'm In my little bed And the stars shine overhead, I ask Ood to safely keep My dear Daddy, while I sleep. And I know He hears my prayer. For the little stars, up there, Smile at me, as If they knew; They keep watch o'er Daddy, too. CELESTA L. MABERT. Personals Bernard Hannighen, who has been ill for the last few weeks, is getting well again, Virginia Cotton has recovered from the mumps. Jane Horton, who was operated on for throat trouble, is up and about. Scenic Study of Mature If one approaches it, in the right spirit, the study of the glorious beauty of a brook in any one point in its course is as interesting as are the antics of a squirrel, the finding of a woodchuck on a woodside or a moth er robin with her young in the nest; and it is more convenient. You may take plenty of time in the study of a brook. There are eyes that do not see, and real seeing is accom plished only by eye training. Take, for example, the accompanying illustra tion of the bank of a brook. Sit on the rock that juts out on the oppo site side of the stream. With note book and pencil make a list of the things that may be observed. Make a sketch or a photograph. Return to the place once a week for a year and note the changes. If that single sec tion of natural scenery were well studied, it would sound the keynote to the melody of all the seasons and all the seasons' scenes. TWINKLE and CHUBBINS (Copyright, 1911, by Rellly A Brltton Co.) THE TRAP. THERE'S a woodchuck over on the side hill that is eating my red clover," said Twinkla-'s father, who was a farmer. "Why don't you set a trap for it?" asked Twinkle's mother. "I believe I will," answered the man. So, when the midday dinner was over, the farmer went to the barn and got a steel trap, and carried it over to the clover field on the hillside. Twinkle wanted very much to go with him, but she had to help mamma wash the dishes and put them away, and then brush up the dining room and put it in order. But when the work was done, and she had all the rest of the afternoon to herself, she decided to go over to the wood chuck's hole and see how papa had set the trap, and also discove. if the woodchuck had yet been caught. So the little girl took her blue-and-white sun-bonnet, and climbed over the garden fence and ran across thi corn field and through the rye until she came to the red clover patch on the hill. She knew -perfectly well where the woodchuck's hole was, for she had looked at it curiously man times; so she approached it carefully and found the trap set just in front of the hole. If the woodchuck stepped on it, when he came out, it would grab his leg and hold him fast; and there was a chain fastened to the trap, and also to a stout post driven into the ground, so that when the woodchuck was caught he couldn't run away with the trap. But although the day was bright Versatile Little FSiss G Vftt 2. Gwendolyn (ft'cJze Little Miss Gwendolyn Eiche helps "Uncle Sam even though she is only five years old. She earned many a subscription to the Liberty loan when s"he recited "Young America's Plea." You see, Gwendolyn's mamma was a teacher of elocution in Chicago and she has taught the little girl numbers of humorous pieces and fairy stories. Gwendolyn is a dancer, too, and has danced for our soldier boys at Fort Omaha as well as in the French Orphan benefit last week. The men gave the little girl such a warm wel come that her eyes just danced and Monday evening she is going out to the fort again to speak some pieces for them. RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL. It is no secret that the American Indian did not get fair play from the white settlers of this country, nor has he had any more than his barest rights from our successive govern ments. The Indian's grievances have been many and keen. Yet word comes that about 5,000 Indians are serving in the army or navy; one is an aviator (can you imagine an Indian sailor?). Nearly $10,000,000 worth of Liberty bonds have been bought by Indians; they have aided the Red Cross and have greatly increased our supplies of crops and meat. and sunshiny, and just the kind of day woodchucks like, the clover eater had not yet walked out of his hole to get caught in the trap. So Twinkle lay down in the clover field, half hidden by a small bank in front of the woodchuck's hole, and began to watch for the little animal to come out. Her eyes could see right into the hole, which seemed to slant upward into the hill instead of down ward; but of course she couldn't see very far in, because the hole wasn't straight, and grew black a little way from the opening. It was somewhat wearisome, wait ing and watching so long, and the warm sun and the soft chirp of the crickets, that hopped through the clover made Twinkle drowsy. She didn't intend to go to sleep, because then she might miss the woodchuck; but there was no harm in closing her eyes just one little minute; so she allowed the long lashes t' droop over her pretty pink cheeks just be cause they felt so heavy, and there was no way to prop them up. Then, with a start, she opened her eyes again, and saw the trap and the woodchuck hole just as they were before. Not quite, though, come to look carefully. The hole seemed to be bigger than at first; yes, strange as it might seem, the hole was grow ing bigger every minute! She watched it with much surprise, and then looked at the trap, which remained the same size it had always been. And when she turned her eyes upon the hole once more it had not only become very big and high, but a stone arch appeared over it, and a fine, polished front door now shut it off from the outside world. She could even read a name upon the silver door plate, Kand the name was this: Mister Woodchuck. if gp CHAPTER II. Mister Woodchuck Captures a Girl. "Well, I declare!" whispered Twin kle to herself; "how could all that have happened?" On each side of the door was a lit tle green bench, big enough or two to sit upon, and between the benches was a doorstep of white marble, with a mat lying ort it. On one side Twin kle saw an electric door bell. While she gazed at this astonishing sight a sound of rapid footsteps was was heard, and a large jack-rabbit, almost as big as herself, and dressed m a messenger boy's uniform, ran up to the woodchuck's front dcor and rang the bell. Almost at once the door opened in ward, and a curious personage stepped out ' Twinkle saw at a glance that it i ' Little Stories (Honorable Mention.) v Economize. By Mabel Johnson, Aged 11 Years, Waterloo, Neb. Save every penny, nickel and dime, For every little bit combined Will buy a thrift stamp or maybe a bond, To help our dear Sammies along. Plant wheat, potatoes and peas, For our dear Sammies, at least To help us win this war; That's what we're in it for! Then we'll bring the kaiser down And sit him on the ground And show him that we are every As powerful as he! bit And when the war is done, Our, Sammies, then, will come And the red, white and blue will wave O'er the heads of the victorious brave! (Prize LetterO A Bird Letter By Helen Aklenieier, Aged 11 Years, 1022 East Sixth Street, Fremont, Neb. Dear Busy Bees: I am writing an other story to see if I may win a prize. I am Mrs. Bluebird and am writing to Mrs. Meadow Lark: Bluebirdville, Mapletop, April 22, 1918 Dear Mrs. Meadow Lark: I heard you were living at Green Meadow. It must be a very pleasant place to live. But I would prefer Bluebirdville. I have an important detail to tell you. It was a bright sunny day in September and as I was soaring high above the pine trees of northern Canada, I heard a queer sound. At first it sounded like the screech of an owl, but as I came nearer it sounded like the scream of a child, who was in pain. I now saw a little white cottage, built on the hillside, and I thought the screaming came from there. I flew upon the window sill. "O! look at the birdie," came the vioce of a child. The scream ceased. Someone opened the window, I know not who, and a tiny child picked me up in her pale hands and whispered softly, "God bless you, dear little creature." The next day I was put into a cage and hung by the window, so the little sick child could watch me all day long. I sang my sweetest song for the child, and soon it was restored to health. One summer day the lit tle child took me out on the lawn, caressed me and whispered again softly, "God bless this dear little creature." Then she opened the door of the cage, and gave me my liberty once more. Thus I was out in the free air again. Well, I must now close. Sin cerely yours, MRS. BLUEBIRD. was the woodchuck himself but what a big and queer woodchuck it was! He wore a swallow-tailed coat, with a waistcoat of white satin and fancy knee breeches, and upon his feet were shoes with silver buckles. On his head was perched a tall silk hat that made him look just as high as Twin-1 kles father, and in one paw he held a gold-headed cane. Also he wore big spectacles over his eyes, which made him look more dignified than any other woodchuck Twinkle had even seen. When this person opened the door and saw the Jack-Rabbit me.senger boy, he cried out: "Well, what do you mean Ly ring: ing my bell so violently? I suppose you're half an hour late, and trying to make me think you're in a hurry." The Jack-Rabbit took a telegram from its pocket and handed it to the woodchuck without a word in reply. At once the woodchuck tore open the envelope and read the, telegram carefully. "Thank you. There's no answer," he said; and in an instant the Jack Rabbit had whisked away and was gone. "Well, well," said the woodchuck, as if to himself, "the foolish farmer has set a trap for me, it seems, and my friends have sent a tejegram to warn me. Let's- see where is the thing?" He soon discovered the trap, and seizing hold of the chain he pulled the peg out of the ground and threw the whole thing far away into the field. "I must give that farmer a sound scolding," he muttered, "for he's be coming so impudent lately that soon he will think he owns the whole coun try." But now his eyes fell upon Twin kle, who lay in the clover staring up at him; and the woodchuck gave a laugh and grabbed her fast by one arm. "Oh ho!" he exclaimed; "you're spying upon me, are you?" "I'm just waiting to see you get caught in the trap," said the girl, standing up because the big creature pulled upon her arm. She wasn't much frightened, strange to say, be cause this "woodchuck had good humored way about him that gave her confidence. "You would have to wait a long time for that," he said, with a laugh that wa3 a sort of low chuckle. "In stead of seeing me caught, you've got caught yourself. That's turning the tables, sure enough; isn't it?" "I suppose its," said Twinkle, re gretfully. "Am I a prisoner?" "You might call it that; and then, again, you mightn't," answered the woodchuck. "To tell you the truth. I hardly know what to do with you. But come inside, and we'll talk it over. We mustn't be seen out here in the fields." Still holding fast to her arm, the By Little Folks Havana Leaf. By Helen Clementine Foe, Aged 12 Years, Cowles, Neb., R. F. D. No. 1. I live in Cuba. I am a Havana Leaf and 1 grow on a Havana plant in a large field, where there are sev eral plants around me like the one I grow on. This field belongs to a wealthy Mexican. I grew every day and the weeds also grew, but no one came to tend to us. One day I saw a man com ing out with a cultivator. When he came to me he cut a piece of rtc off. My! That nice cool, moist dirt did make me feel better. Now the weeds were down and I had a pleasant view from every side and the sun shone on me. I lived a happy life untfl ore day some men came out with wagons and began pulling up the plants, and, ot course, the plant I grew on was pulled up, too. They kept piling other plants on me and I thought I was going to smother. Then they took me to a city called Havana. Then we were taken to a shed, where we were dried and then someone came in where were were and began sorting us. I heard him say that the small- leaves would be made into tobacco and the larger ones would be made into cigars. I was put in the pile which the cigars were to made from. Then I was taken to the factorv Bunsy Bee's Here is another war cartoon by the Rose, of Elmwood, Neb. Dorothy has cmia. in several years, pernaps, we corner of cartoons which will have a Ay' ' M Their Astonishing Adventures in Nature-Fairyland By LAURA BANCROFT woodchuck led her through the door, which he carefully closed and locked. Then they passed through a kind of hallway, into which opened several handsomely furnished rooms, and out again into a beautiful garden at the back, all filled with flowers and bright ly colored plants, and with a pretty fountain playing in the middle. A high stone wall was built around the garden, shutting it off from all the rest of the world. The woodchuck led his prisoner to a bench beside the fountain, and told her to sit down and make herself com fortable. CHAPTER III. Mister Woodchuck Scolds Twinkle. Twinkle was much pleased with her surroundings, and soon discovered several gold-fishes swimming in the water at the foot of the fountain. "Well, how does it strike you?" asked the woodchuck, strutting up and down the gravel walk before her ahd swinging his gold-headed cane rather gracefully. "It seems like a dream," said Twin kle. "To be sure," he answered, nod ding. "You'd no business to fall asleep in the clover." "Did I?" she asked, rather startled at the suggestion. "It stands to reason you oid," he replied, "You don't for a moment think this is real, do you?" "Itseems real," she answered. "Aren't you the woodchuck?" "Mister Woodchuck, if you please. Address me properly, young lady, or you'll make me angry." "Well, then, aren't you Mister Woodchuck?" "At present I am; but when you wake up, I won't be," he said. "Then you think I'm dreaming?" "You must figure that out for your self," said Mister Woodchuck. "What do you suppose made me dream?" "I don't know." "Do you think it's something I've eaten?" she asked anxiously. "I hardly think so. This isn't any nightmare, you know, because there's nothing at all horrible about it so far. You've probably been .eading some of those creepy, sensational story books." "I haven't read a book in a long time," said Twinkle. "Dreams," remarked Mister Wood chuck, thoughtfully, "are not always to be accounted for. But this con versation is all wrong. When one is dreaming one doesn't talk about it, or even know it's a dream. So let's speak of something else." "It's very pleasant in this garden," said Twinkle. "1 don't mind being here a bit." "But you can't stay here," replied Mister Woodchuck, "and you ought to where there was an awful buzzing. The next think a knew I was be tween two large rollers and was being crushed into medium, sized pieces. Then we were taken into another part of the factory and some were mold ing us into a cigar. Then they brought in some little boxes and be gan packing us in. Finally, they came to me and I was packed in the bottom of a box with several others packed on me. From here I was put on board a ship called the Havana. Oh I how dark it was in here. We did not get many knocks, as we were packed in so tight. One day the little door opened and someone beRan throwing us out. We were at Tallahassee. We were waiting for the dray and no one was near. Pretty soon some one picked us up. Then the lid flew open and the first thing I saw was two bright eyes looking at me. "Now, I shall have a fine smoke," said Tom myfor that was the little boy's name. He took me out of the box and struck a match and lit me. Then he went slowly down the road, leav ing the other cigars behind lying in the road. I am about gone and I don't think little Tommy will ever want to smoke again. I wish to join the Blue Side, as it is my favorite color. I hope to sec my letter in print. Goodby Busy Bees. Bobbie's Cat. By Gifford Page. Aged 11 Years, Har risburg, Neb. Blue Side. My Dear Little Busy Bees: I have been reading the stories that the Waif CartedDE Busy Bees little staff artist. Dorothv a great deal of talent for so young a will find her name in the right-hand wide circulation. ft be very uncomfortable in my pres ence. You see, you're one of the deadliest enemies of my race. All you human beings live for or think of is how to torture and destroy wood chucks." "Oh, no!" she answered. "We have many more important things than that to think of. But when a wood chuck gets eating our clover and the vegetables, and spoils a lot, we just have to do something to stop it. That's why my papa set the trap." "You're selfish," said Mister Wood chuck, "and you're cruel to poor little animals that can't help themselves, and have to eat what they can find, or starve. There's enough for all of us growing in the broad fields." Twinkle felt a little ashamed. "We have to sell the clover and the vegetables to earn our living," she explained; "and if the animals eat them up we can't sell them." "We don't eat enough to rob you," said the woodchuck, "and the land belonged to the wild creatures long before you people came her and be gan to farm. And really, there is no reason why you should be so cruel. It hurts deadfully to be caught in a trap, and an animal captured in that way sometimes has to suffer for many hours before the man comes to kill it. We don't mind the killing so much. Death doesn't last but an in stant. But every minute of suffering seems to be an hour." "That's true," said Twinkle, feeling sorry and repentant. "I'll ask papa never to set another trap." "That will be some help," returned Mister Woodchuck, more cheerfully, "and I hope you'll not forget the promise when you wake ne. But that isn't enough to settle the account for all our past sufferings, I assure you; so I am trying to think of a suitable way to punish you for the past wick edness of your father, and of all other men that have set traps." "Why, if you feel that way," said the little girl, "you're just as bad as we are I" "How's that?" asked Mister Wood chuck, pausing in his walk to look at her. "It's as naughty to want revenge as it is to be selfish and cruel," she said. "I believe you are right abo..t that," answered the animal, taking off his silk hat and rubbing the (ur smooth with his elbow. "But woodchucks are not perfect, any more than men are, so you'll have to takers as you find us. And now I'll call my family, and exhibit them to you. The chil dren, especially, will "enjoy seeing the wild human girl I've had the luck to capture." " "Wild!" she cried, indignantly. "If you're not wild now, you will be before you wake up," he said. (Continued Next Sunday.) 1 I Rules lor Young Writers T 1. Writ nlalnlv on one slda of the ? paper only and number the pages).- f i. iw rvH auu ii.it, uu, S. Short and pointed articles will be given preference. Do not use over if tiO words. v A 4. Original stories or letters only A will be use. 4 6. Write you.- name, age and ad- 4 dress at the top of the first page. Y A prise bonk will be given eaeb Y week for the best contribution. Address all communications to T Children's Department, Omaha Bee, X Omaha, Neb. V Busy Bees write and I enjoy them very much. I thought I would send ycu this story. . - Bobbie had a little cat and he loved it very much. Bobbie was 9 yean old and lived with his four brothers on a little farm. One day in the spring Bobbie wis playing with his little cat, Tabby, which was the cat's name. The cat soon got tired of playing and ran inta the garden. Little Bobbie did not know where his cat Tabby had gone, so he called and called, but Tabby did not come. He went to the garden and toon saw the cat creeping along the ground and Bobbie saw the cat had a little meadow lark by the wing. Bobbie saw the wing was broken tnd he took the bird away from the cat and treated it until it was well and then let it fly away. I think this was very nice, don't you? My Favorite Work. By Gertrude P. Vana, Aged 13 Year, . Wilber, Neb. This is the second time I am writ ing to this club. The first time I wrote my story, it 'saw the waste basket. . ' My favorite work is to be out around the fowls and out in the field. I have over 350 chicks to attend to, and I have 80 duckies to attend and 16 goslings. It always -takes me about an hour and a half to get them all fed and ' watered. I feed them three or four ' times a day, I go to school and I am in the Eighth grade. We have to go a mile to school. I always go home at noon since father is planting corn, because I always go out to the field in the' afternoon to roll down corn. I en joy it very much. I have seven sisters and one brother. I wish some of the members oi this club would write me, I will gladly answer you. I hope I will see my story in print this time. This is a true story. First Letter. By Rachel Bauer, Aged 11 Years, 407 New York avenue, Hastings, Neb. Dear Busy Bees: This is the first time I am writing to you and wish to join the Blue side of your Busy Bee column. I am interested in your little stories by little folks and am sure I would ' enjoy being one of the Busy Bees. I am saving my pennies for thrift stamps to help our Uncle Sammy win this horrible war. I hope that all the little Busy Bees are also saving their -pennies for the Red, White and Blue. I wish some of the Busy Bees would write to me. I am sure I would en joy reading your letters. Goodbye all of you. First Letter. By Mary Carlota Davis, Aged 7 Years, Ord, Neb. Dear Busy Bees! This is the first time I have written to you. I will be in the Third grade next year. I have 13 thrift stamps. I earn tbf money to buy them. I want to help win the war. I can crochet and kriif and sew. I am crocheting my fourtk wash cloth. Grandma lets me knit on almost everything she knits. She's knitting for the soldiers. I have twfl brothers, Eldon and Dean. Eldon it 5 years old and Dean is 2 years old. One has blue eyes and light hair and the other has browu-eyes and hait We have good times together. . Well, I think I will close now, Goodby, Busy Bees. ' Like "Ox" Stories. Dear Editor: I received the prize book, for which I thank you very rrrtich. I like to read the "Oz" stories every Sunday. The children all write very interesting stories. ANNETTE LIEB. i America. By Mary Dyba, Aged 12, 4016 South Thirty-fifth Street, South Side, Omaha. As my first poem was in print, I'm sending in another, hoping, as usual, to win a prize story book. Here it is.' America! My America! Your flag is always true, J Your mountains, plains and lakes, In winsome beauty partakes, And above floats the red, white and blue. Your land is blessed With Freedom's crest. Your golden eagle flies oh high, With your just ways let us comply To tread forever upon thy soil; , In peace and justice let us toil. You were swept by battle's bloody mist, For correcting that wrong, and many' the fist! ' . That rang wildly through the air To proclaim the place for .America ; fair! O! Many and many's the lives were lost, And many have on rude beds tossed, And suffered from wounds, slight or deep; Your soldier boys you may lovingly trust, For 'tis they who'd keep you from unjust Amid dark skies and troubled waters, The Statue of Liberty never falters.. . Come, comrade, come, one and alL Don't let our America, our prize, fall Unto autocracy and its sinful notion. Let's ring joyful bells' from ocean to . ocean 1 America I My America I I 'J I 1 i I 4 1 !! V i i HI j IS l! i i i