too,
You wouldn't want people to laugh at you.
If you had a lump that wuz full of fire,
Like you'd been touched by a red hot wire,
An' your nose spread out like a load of hay,
You wouldn't want strangers who come your way
To ask you to let 'em see the place
An' laugh at you right before your face.

What's funny about it, I'd like to know?
It isn't a joke to be hurted so!
An' how wuz I ever on earth to tell
'At the pretty flower which I stooped to smell
In our backyard wuz the very one
Which a bee wuz busily working on?
An' jus' as I got my nose down there,
He lifted his foot an' kicked for fair,
An' he planted his stinger right into me,
But it's nothin' to laugh at as I can see.

I let out a yell an' my Maw came out
To see what the trouble wuz all about.
She says from my shriek she wuz sure 'at I
Had been struck by a motor car passin' by;
But when she found what the matter wuz
She laughed just like ever'body does
An' she made me stand while she poked about
To pull his turrible stinger out.
An' my Pa laughed, too, when he looked at me,
But it's nothin' to laugh at, as I can see.

My Maw put witch hazel on the spot
To take down the swellin' but it has not.
It seems to git bigger as time goes by
An' I can't see good out o' this one eye;
An' it hurts clean down to my very toes
Whenever I've got to blow my nose.
An' all I can say is when this gits well
There ain't any flowers I'll stoop to smell.
I'm through disturbin' a bumble bee,
But it's nothin' to laugh at, as I can see.

No Room for Hate

We have room for the man with an honest dream,
With his heart on fire and his eyes agleam;
We have room for the man with a purpose true,
Who comes to our shores to start life anew,
But we haven't an inch of space for him
Who comes to plot against life and limb.

We have room for the man who will learn our ways,
Who will stand by our Flag in its troubled days;
We have room for the man who will till the soil,
Who will give his hands to a fair day's toil,
But we haven't an inch of space to spare
For the breeder of hatred and black despair.

We have room for the man who will neighbor here,
Who will keep his hands and his conscience clear;
We have room for the man who'll respect our laws
And pledge himself to our country's cause,
But we haven't an inch of land to give
To the alien breed that will alien live.

Against the vicious we bar the gate!
This is no breeding ground for hate.
This is the land of the brave and free
And such we pray it shall always be.
We have room for men who will love our flag,
But none for the friends of the scarlet rag.

The Boy and the Flag

I want my boy to love his home,
  His Mother, yes, and me:
I want him, wheresoe'er he'll roam,
  With us in thought to be.
I want him to love what is fine,
  Nor let his standards drag,
But, Oh! I want that boy of mine
  To love his country's flag!

I want him when he older grows
  To love all things of earth;
And Oh! I want him, when he knows,
  To choose the things of worth.
I want him to the heights to climb
  Nor let ambition lag;
But, Oh! I want him all the time
  To love his country's flag.

I want my boy to know the best,
  I want him to be great;
I want him in Life's distant West,
  Prepared for any fate.
I want him to be simple, too,
  Though clever, ne'er to brag,
But, Oh! I want him, through and through,
  To love his country's flag.

I want my boy to be a man,
  And yet, in distant years,
I pray that he'll have eyes that can
  Not quite keep back the tears
When, coming from some foreign shore
  And alien scenes that fag,
Borne on its native breeze, once more
  He sees his country's flag.

Too Big a Price

"They say my boy is bad," she said to me,
  A tired old woman, thin and very frail.
"They caught him robbing railroad cars, an' he
  Must spend from five to seven years in jail.
His Pa an' I had hoped so much for him.
  He was so pretty as a little boy—"
Her eyes with tears grew very wet an' dim—
  "Now nothing that we've got can give us joy!"

"What is it that you own?" I questioned then.
  "The house we live in," slowly she replied,
"Two other houses worked an' slaved for, when
  The boy was but a youngster at my side,
Some bonds we took the time he went to war;
  I've spent my strength against the want of age—
We've always had some end to struggle for.
  Now shame an' ruin smear the final page.

"His Pa has been a steady-goin' man,
  Worked day an' night an' overtime as well;
He's lived an' dreamed an' sweated to his plan
  To own the house an' profit should we sell;
He never drank nor played much cards at night,
  He's been a worker since our wedding day,
He's lived his life to what he knows is right,
  An' why should son of his now go astray?

"I've rubbed my years away on scrubbing boards,
  Washed floors for women that owned less than we,
An' while they played the ladies an' the lords,
  We smiled an' dreamed of happiness to be."
"And all this time where was the boy?" said I.
  "Out somewhere playin'!"—Like a rifle shot
The thought went home—"My God!" she gave a cry,
  "We paid too big a price for what we got."

Always Saying "Don't!"

Folks are queer as they can be,
Always sayin' "don't" to me;
Don't do this an' don't do that.
Don't annoy or tease the cat,
Don't throw stones, or climb a tree,
Don't play in the road. Oh, Gee!
Seems like when I want to play
"Don't" is all that they can say.

If I start to have some fun,
Someone hollers, "Don't you run!"
If I want to go an' play
Mother says: "Don't go away."
Seems my life is filled clear through
With the things I mustn't do.
All the time I'm shouted at:
"No, no, Sonny, don't do that!"

Don't shout so an' make a noise,
Don't play with those naughty boys,
Don't eat candy, don't eat pie,
Don't you laugh and don't you cry,
Don't stand up and don't you fall,
Don't do anything at all.
Seems to me both night an' day
"Don't" is all that they can say.

When I'm older in my ways
An' have little boys to raise,
Bet I'll let 'em race an' run
An' not always spoil their fun;
I'll not tell 'em all along
Everything they like is wrong,
An' you bet your life I won't
All the time be sayin' "don't."

Boy O' Mine

Boy o' mine, boy o' mine, this is my prayer for you,
This is my dream and my thought and my care for you:
Strong be the spirit which dwells in the breast of you,
Never may folly or shame get the best of you;
You shall be tempted in fancied security,
But make no choice that is