Cape Cod Ballads, and Other Verse Part 5

_O Susan Van Doozen! the girl of my choos'n',_ _You stick in my bosom like glue; While this you're perusin', remember I'm mus'n',_ _Sweet Susan Van Doozen, on you.

So don't be refus'n' my offer, and bruis'n'_ _A heart that is willing to woo; And please be excus'n', not cold and refus'n',-- O Susan Van Doozen, please do_!

Now through it I'll scatter--a quite easy matter-- Some lines that we all of us know, How "The neighbors all cry as she pa.s.ses them by, 'There's Susan, the pride of the row!'"

And something like "daisy" and "setting me crazy,"

--These lines the dear public would miss-- Then chuck a "sweetheart" in, and "never to part" in, And end with a chorus like this:

_O Susan Van Doozen! before I'd be los'n'

One glance from your eyes of sky-blue, I vow I'd quit us'n' tobacco and booz'n', (That word is not nice, it is true).

I wear out my shoes, 'n' I'm los'n' my roos'n'_ _My reason, I should say, dear Sue_,-- _So please change your views 'n' become my own Susan_, _O Susan Van Doozen, please do_!

SISTER SIMMONS

Almost every other evening jest as reg'lar as the clock When we're settin' down ter supper, wife and I, there comes a knock An' a high-pitched voice, remarking', "Don't get up; it's _me_, yer know"; An' our mercury drops from "summer" down ter "twenty-five below,"

An' our cup of bliss turns sudden inter wormwood mixed with gall, Fer we know it's Sister Simmons come ter make her "reg'lar call."

In she comes an' takes the rocker. Thinks she'll slip her bunnit off, But she'll keep her shawl on, coz she's 'fraid of addin' ter her cough.

No, she won't set down ter supper. Tea? well, yes, a half er cup.

Her dyspepsy's been so lately, seems as if she _should_ give up; An', 'tween rheumatiz an' as'ma, she's jest worn ter skin an' bone.

It's a good thing that she told us,--by her looks we'd never known.

Next, she starts in on the neighbors; tells us all their private cares, While we have the fun er knowin' how she talks of _our_ affairs; Says, with sobs, that Christmas comin' makes her feel _so_ bad, for, oh!

Her Isaiah, the dear departed, allers did enjoy it so.

Her Isaiah, poor henpecked critter, 's been dead seven years er more, An' looked happier in his coffin than he ever did afore.

So she sits, her tongue a-waggin' in the same old mournful tones, Spoilin' all our quiet evenin's with her troubles an' her groans, Till, by Jude, I'm almost longin' fer those mansions of the blest, "Where the wicked cease from troublin' an' the weary are at rest!"

But if Sister Simmons' station is before the Throne er Grace, I'll just ask 'em to excuse me, an' I'll try the other place.

"THE FIFT' WARD J'INT DEBATE"

Now Councilman O'Hoolihan do'n't b'lave in annixation, He says thim Phillypynos air the r-r-ruin av the nation.

He says this counthry's job is jist a-mindin' av her biz, And imparyilism's thrayson, so ut is, so ut is.

But big Moike Macnamara, him that runs the gin saloon, He wants the nomina-a-tion, so he sings a different chune; He's a-howlin' fer ixpansion, so he puts ut on the shlate Thot he challenged Dan O'Hoolihan ter have a j'int debate.

_Ho, ho! Begorra! Oi wisht that ye 'd been there!

Ho, ho! Begorra! 'Twas lovely, Oi declare_; _The langwudge, sure 't was iligant, the rhitoric was great_, _Whin Dan and Mack, they had ut back, At our big j'int debate_.

'T was in the War-r-d Athletic Club we had ut fixed ter hear 'em, And all the sates was crowded, fer the gang was there ter cheer 'em; A foine debatin' platfor-r-m had been built inside the ring, And iverybuddy said 't was jist the thing, jist the thing.

O'Hoolihan, he shtarted off be sayin', ut was safe Ter say that aich ixpansionist was jist a murth'rin thafe; And, whin I saw big Mack turn rid, and shtart ter lave his sate, Oi knew we 'd have a gor-r-geous toime at our big j'int debate.

Thin Moike he tuk his tur-r-n ter shpake, "Av Oi wance laid me hand,"

Says he, "upon an 'Anti,' faith! Oi'd make his nose ixpand; Oi 'd face the schnakin' blackguar-r-d, and Oi'd baste him where he shtood.

Oi'd annix him to a graveyard, so Oi would, so Oi would!"

Thin up jumped Dan O'Hoolihan a-roar-r-in' out "Yez loie!"

And flung his b'aver hat at Mack, and plunked him in the eye; And Moike he niver shtopped ter talk, but grappled wid him straight, And the ar-r-gymint got loively thin, at our big j'int debate.

Oi niver in me loife have seen sich char-r-min' illycution, The gistures av thim wid their fists was grand in ixecution; We tried to be impar-r-tial, so no favoroite we made, But jist sicked them on tergither, yis indade, yis indade.

And nayther wan was half convinced whin Sar-r-gint Leary came, Wid near a dozen other cops, and stopped the purty game; But niver did Oi see dhress-suits in sich a mortial state As thim the or-r-ators had on at our big j'int debate.

_Ho, ho! Begorra! Oi wisht that ye'd been there!

Ho, ho! Begorra! The foight was on the square_; _Ter see the wagon goin' off, wid thim two on the sate_!-- _Oi 'd loike ter shtroike, 'twixt Dan and Moilce_, _Another j'int debate_.

HIS NEW BROTHER

Say, I've got a little brother, Never teased to have him, nuther, But he's here; They just went ahead and bought him, And, last week the doctor brought him, Wa'n't that queer?

When I heard the news from Molly, Why, I thought at first 't was jolly, 'Cause, you see, I s'posed I could go and get him And then Mama, course, would let him Play with me.

But when I had once looked at him, "Why!" I says, "My sakes, is _that_ him?

Just that mite!"

They said, "Yes," and, "Ain't he cunnin'?"

And I thought they must be funnin',-- He's a _sight!_

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Why'd they buy a baby brother, When they know I'd _good_ deal ruther Have a dog?"]

He's so small, it's just amazin', And you 'd think that he was blazin', He's so red; And his nose is like a berry, And he's bald as Uncle Jerry On his head.

Why, he isn't worth a dollar!

All he does is cry and holler More and more; _Won't_ sit up--you can't arrange him,-- _I_ don't see why Pa do'n't change him At the store.

Now we've got to dress and feed him, And we really didn't _need_ him More 'n a frog; Why'd they buy a baby brother, When they know I'd _good_ deal ruther Have a dog?

CIRCLE DAY

Me and Billy's in the woodshed; Ma said, "Run outdoors and play; Be good boys and don't be both'rin', till the company's gone away."

She and sister Mary's hustlin', settin' out the things for tea, And the parlor's full of women, such a crowd you never see; Every one a-cuttin' patchwork or a-sewin' up a seam, And the way their tongues is goin', seems as if they went by steam.

Me and Billy's been a-listenin' and, I tell you what, it beats Circus day to hear 'em gabbin', when the Sewin' Circle meets.

First they almost had a squabble, fightin' 'bout the future life; When they'd settled that they started runnin' down the parson's wife.

Then they got a-goin' roastin' all the folks there is in town, And they never stopped, you bet yer, till they'd done 'em good and brown.

They knew everybody's business and they made it mighty free, But the way they loved _each other_ would have done yer good to see; Seems ter me the only way ter keep yer hist'ry off the streets Is to be on hand a-waitin' when the Sewin' Circle meets.

Pretty quick they'll have their supper, then's the time to see the fun; Ma'll say the rolls is _awful_, and she's 'fraid the pie ain't done.

Really everything is bully, and she knows it well enough, But the folks that's havin' comp'ny always talks that kind of stuff.

That sets all the women goin', and they say, "How _can_ you make Such _delicious_ pies and biscuits, and such _lovely_ choc'late cake?"

Me and Billy don't say nothin' when we pitches in and eats Up the things there is left over when the Sewin' Circle meets.

I guess Pa do'n't like the Circle, 'cause he said ter Uncle Jim That there cacklin' hen convention was too peppery for _him_.

And he'll say to Ma, "I'm sorry, but I've really got ter dodge Down t' the hall right after supper--there's a meetin' at the lodge."

Ma'll say, "Yes, so I expected." Then a-speakin' kinder cold, "Seems ter me, I'd get a new one; that excuse is gettin' old!"

Pa'll look sick, just like a feller when he finds you know he cheats, But he do'n't stay home, you bet yer, when the Sewin' Circle meets.