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My friend at times when I have been
Disposed to be unruly,
Has backed me up through thick and thin
And made me feel so "bully".

Sometimes, when I am on a huff
With him I'd like to quarrel,
Because he is not big enough,
To hold at least a barrel.

A ship without a sail or keel,
Or a rudder for to guide her,
Feels just about as I would feel,
Without my old friend "Schneider".

The contents of my jolly friend,
Oft makes me feel quite dizzy
And makes me very reckless when
I try to drive my lizzie.

The road's too narrow for my car,
It lunges, skids and pitches.
Before I have gone very far,
It lands me in the ditches.

This prohibition friend of mine
Has caused me lots of sadness,
But yet he managed to entwine
My heart with joy and gladness.


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My love for him, no tongue can tell,
Our friendship is a fixture.
This is the friend I like so well,
Just gaze on his dear picture.




I DO NOT CHOOSE TO RUN
Shan. T. Boy        

The leading question of today
Is argued everywhere,
About who'll be the lucky jay,
To fill the White House chair.
Was Calvin nodding in the dark,
Or was it just for fun,
That he should wire that cool remark,
"I do not choose to run."



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The Hodag and Other Tales of the Logging Camps, Written by Lake Shore Kearney
(Madison, WI: Democrat Printing Press, 1928) Original Text and Illustrations Public Domain License.
Copyright © 2006-2014 Thrill Land.