Tales of Old Shanghai - Ballads of the China Coast






	CONTENTS A WHALE OF A JONAH ABSENCE THE ABSENT MINDED SPORT ADVENTURE ALIBI JULIUS E. AN APPRECIATION OF NOTHING THE ARCHEOLOGIST OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE AS THE BETTER HALF THINKETH AS WE SEE OTHERS AT ANCHOR A BEACHCOMBER'S LAMENT BEAUTY AND THE BEAST BRUTUS WAS AN HONORABLE MAN! THE CALL PRIMEVAL THE CAPTAIN'S BALL CHIMES O'THE SEA CELESTIAL NAVIGATION DANCING PRINCESSES OF HONGKONG DESERT DREAMS DIGNITY DREAMING ON THE WAY TO OLD NANNING DREAMLINE EUPHONY EXILES THE FAIR PACIFIC THE FAMILY SHRINE A FAR EASTERN VARIETY FAREWELL TO OUR STEAMER FATHER NEPTUNE FORBIDDEN FRUIT THE FORGOTTEN MAN THE FORGOTTEN WOMAN GLOSSARY "GO YE FORTH AND SPREAD THE GOSPEL" THE GODDESS QUENCH GOOD OLD WORLD! THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA HOME AGAIN AN HOUR HOW DO YOU READ YOUR PAPER? IN DEFENSE OF NONSENSE IN THE EAST INNOCENTS IN THE EAST ISLES OF LIQUID SUNSHINE THE JOLLY STEWARD LAND AHOY! LAZY DAYS THE LURE OF THE EAST MAGNIFICENCE OF FAILURE MAN OVERBOARD MANCHURIA MANY HAPPY RETURNS THE MYSTIC CITY NEPTUNE'S DAUGHTER NERO THE HERO NIGHT BOAT FROM HONGKONG TO CANTON ODE TO LADY BOUNTIFUL OHIO DE GOZAIMASU! IRASHAI! OLD BILL OLD CAP SAYS! THE OTHER FELLOW OUR SYNTHETIC WORLD THE PASSING OF OLD LANDMARKS PLEASE COME AGAIN PREDIGESTINATION PROLOGUE PUBLISHER'S NOTE RAINBOW CHASERS RESOLUTIONS THIS REVOLVING WORLD THE SANCTIMONIOUS GRIFFIN SHADOWS SHANGHAI WAIF SHORE LEAVE THE SLACKER SPARE THE TREES STOP! LOOK! LOOSEN! THE STORY TELLER THE SWAN-SONG OF A REFUGEE TALES O'THE SEA THANK GOD. FOR THAY THE THOROUGHBRED TO SIGN OR NOT TO SIGN TROPICAL ECSTASY WANTED: A NAME! THE WAYSIDE ISLES WHEN WE GO SAILING HOME WHY NOT? WINE OF HUMAN KINDNESS THE WISDOM OF SATAN Top PROLOGUE This is the book That shows you where You'll be if ever You travel there Each place you'll find On land or sea Is usually where It ought to be But don't forget Suspect a map For travel on paper There's many a trap- The maps don't show The gloomy weather Where fly 'n mosquito Will get together To bite and buzz Around your ears Until they bring You home in tears Cheer up old friend When you return Where you have been Will memory burn With tropical sun And tropical rain You'll sing of your fun In glad refrain. Top IN THE EAST In the East, in the East The ever glowing East Though greatly overheated For sport you cannot beat it Where man can have a jolly time And "play the game" at least! In the East 'tis the style With credit by the mile A man can have a debit Before he knows he has it And lovely lovely ladies Will greet him with a smile! In the East men will fall Obey the luring call Or only get promotion By death or blind devotion To Taipans and their pals The greatest man of all! For the East praises ring The rovers ever sing 'Tis baffling, naughty, risky, Where men enjoy their whiskey And angel girls will smoke But never singe their wings! In the East - tropic isles The natives clothe in smiles With fruit disease foretelling The flowers bear no smelling In sizzling heat that mocks The devil with his wiles! In the East when it rains Lurk fevers in the drains 'Tis sad for those who're going But happy are they knowing That memory of friends And sportmanship remains! Top THE GODDESS QUENCH From Shanghai bound for Hongkong Through sweltering heat we sail We dream of Pilsener tankards On good old Loyal Mail. We chug down China's coastline Where salamanders play With dripping perspiration The order of the day. We hear the clanking fire-irons As lascars stoke the coal In Hades' firey furnaces 'Adown the dirty hold. We hear the rumbling engines That thump with every stroke The parched epiglottis Now makes think we'll choke. Then Fritz the greasy steward Brings pilsener hot as hell We order him with orders To ice and cool it well. We go with others smiling Into the hot saloon For Sunday morning services To last from ten till noon. 'Tis thus we go to services The hottest day at sea To please the maiden passengers Whose heroes we would be. But as the doughty chaplain Is leading us in prayer Fritz calls us through the port-hole And "Cool Beer!'' rends the air. Top THE MYSTIC CITY Here all the stars of heaven Are nestled on the waters Beneath the sparkling canopy of night A thousand brilliant avenues Come flickering as a welcome It is the mystic city that we sight. As mistress of old Neptune, She sits upon the ocean- The goddess of the world her sages plan Her head within the heavens Her feet to stem the tide She watches o'er the destiny of man. Her bosom it has nurtured From birth to hardy childhood An Eastern and a Western race's song She's wed their art and science Cementing an alliance A glory to the ages - stands Hongkong. Top INNOCENTS IN THE EAST O, William was so young and strong And not inclined to roam He filled his small-town church with song A model boy at home! Till Destiny on one fine day Broke in upon his life With bids -from China far away - Farewell to home and wife! In time he landed at Hongkong- We bailed him off the ship And introduced him to our hong And mysteries of the tip. Of wine and games and what is worse He promptly knew a lot And soon depleted was his purse The pace was fairly hot. One thing that made on him a hit And filled his life with joy- The ease with which he signed a chit The fun it brought - Oh boy! He couldn't resist The girls of this isle, Their dark liquid eyes And voluptuous smiles From Venus to Mercury He went like a flash Skyrocketting-plummetting Earthward to crash. Then home he went with route selected By us - to save our faces And now he's where he's well protected From "dark and evil places". Way back within the old home town He lectures every night And makes the local deacons frown O'er China's need for light! Top DANCING PRINCESSES OF HONGKONG On a gem of the ocean Pacific's blue breast A fairy's fair island Green coronal crest. Oft kissing the heavens Head moistened with dew From tear-drops of even' 'Neath skies deepest blue Where sunsets like rainbows O'er waves strewn with pearls Reflected in shadows Two glamourous girls Two jewels of motion Two pearls of the ride Tokyo nymphs of the ocean Where mermaidens hide These Princesses Charming The pride of their shore Had swains ever courting them E'en by the score But they hoped that their fortune Would earn for their hands Two valiant courtiers From "Never-wed" lands. In mournfulest sadness I finish my tale These girls in their madness Eschewed every male They danced o'er the mountains Through valleys and glades Debarred from love's fountains Two lovely old-maids. Top A FAR EASTERN VARIETY Every little town Has a ladder of its own. When Madame de Jay besieged Hongkong With dash she made a hit She vamped the men in many a hong As victims of her wit. She ordered gowns made by the score Of styles defying speech For swimming, Madame's bathing suits Caused riots on the beach! Of books she read quite all reviews And prattled off her ware She had no time for current news But made each woman stare. Poor old de Jay the simple soul Was entered in the race To make for every social goal And follow wifey's pace. And so he dined and wined and spent His funds upon all those Who never spent a single cent That anybody knows They got their first big home - a freak Sublet from Hongkongese But oh, it brought them near the Peak And made them feel at ease! 'Twas planned about how nice 'twould be When Madame and her spouse Would go and shine for all to see To balls at Government House. But when the Governor's list came out Their names did not appear The shroffs engaged them in a bout To pay would take a year. And now they're gone - ambitious pair Their guests forget their faces But soon more climbers will prepare To come and take their places. Onward social climbers Keep on spending more- Owing butcher baker And the compradore. Top TO SIGN OR NOT TO SIGN On the far off blue Pacific There's a tropic isle of dreams Where a thirst can be terrific In the zone of silvery streams. When discovered in the fifties With mosquito and the ague It was thought that aqua vitae Was the only cure for plague. So the settlers took to drinking Liquor famous for the smiles It produced on spirits sinking On this gem of Eastern isles Where they never heard of Volstead Nor a limit of three miles With their courage ever bolstered By their chits accrued in piles. 'Twas a land of milk and honey But the milk made dividends And inn-keepers took no money For the drinks - which all depends On a misadvised governor With an idea in his head 'Twould be better to abolish All the chits and pay instead. The inn-keepers called their lawyers And the wisest men in town To protect their lounge and foyers And keep filthy lucre down. "We are here to serve good liquor But we must not ask for pay And we never like to bicker With our clients when they say: 'All same boy! You muchee savvy Makee plenty ice for two- Chop chop catchee more one bottle Master makee look see you!' " Then the Legislative Council To their chambers they repaired And it's wise and controversial The opinions that were aired: That our inns are now declining Is a point we're here to tell They must serve their guests on signing Or this island will be hell! They must have no peppery clients And the servants take no cash Or the public in defiance Will reduce 'hotels' to smash! One old bird contended That, "Our laws will never serve To save junor clerks intended For the dogs - who have the nerve To sign chits at other places I won't mention nor infer But our Youth must save their faces E'en if Life they learn from Her!" Then His Excellency thinking To correct these able men In their logic and their drinking Made discourse beyond their ken And instructed all his minions How to vote on laws like this Where the ballots and opinions May be cast to hit or miss. Lo - the sun went down and darkened And the moon shed not its light With the islanders disheartened O'er the world's most hopeless plight! Top THE ABSENT-MINDED SPORT O, the joy of being careless- And oft absent-minded too- As a boy they made me fearless Of the things I had to do! When my time came to be married- In an absent-minded way- Through the days and weeks I tarried And forgot the wedding day- Then my girl engaged detectives And they saw me to the church As she thought my mind defective I might leave her in the lurch. But before the thing was over And the choir began to sing- Then somehow did I discover I'd forgot the wedding ring. All the answers I recited And 'twas so the knot was tied For you see I was excited Or you bet I would have lied! O, I never can get even With my wife and her refrain- Her advice I'm e'er receiv'n- It has driven me insane! "You must not forget your money- And be careful on the street- Don't forget to kiss me honey- Or, mislay your pearly teeth!" O, these words are ever ringing In my tired and weary ears While the Missie goes on singing Dear, forget me not," in tears! Then I came out to the tropics Where I thought I needn't mind E'en forgetting current topics In the hot and fearsome grind! And I rented an apartment In the Past-her-house Hotel But forgot to pay the house-rent And the landlord gave me hell! So you see I got in trouble As I couldn't say a word I forgot my teeth and "bubble" Was all the landlord heard! Now my wife is on the war-path As she says I'm indiscreet For I had a funny accident While looking for my teeth. I forgot my name and number As I wandered far and wide And disturbed the peace and slumber Of a neighbor and his bride. 'Tis the worst of matrimony But if wifey goes to court I'll forget the alimony As an absent-minded sport! Top AS THE BETTER HALF THINKETH The other day I had a long talk With a wonderful girl. She told me in a casual way What she expects of her friend husband And this is only part of what she said: "Ne'er a short-story man Who finishes life at the altar Instead-a stirring serial; No summer flower To bloom upon the honeymoon, But a perennial of oak; A gentleman at core But this alone is not enough, The outward signs as well he must possess; You know we have ideals, But, close at hand, our senses reign supreme Yes, even with our disillusionment; Though dress is not the only thing, I note when they're in love they're groomed so very well 'Twas so with mine when he was courting me; If drinking makes him more refined, Why then 'tis right to drink But, otherwise go off the stuff for life; For manly sports he should go in To take him out of doors Be not a slave of shop. Oh, yes, I like shop talk If 'tis the same his steno listens to Of profits, not all losses; To pay my bills with airs that he puts on When meeting debts of honor Or monthly chits at club; To be a good provider, Or a good husband - that I know Is but a duty. Don't you see? He should be something more Well, say a lover and a friend A gallant first of all to me! Then other girls In admiration would he green 'Tis this that adds a zest to life. Respectful to his wife of course, But this alone would make him verv dull He should then be my hero too. To treat my friends as his And his to let me treat as mine And that's the kind of man to love for life. The others, well, They make a good wife wicked and A bad one but respectable! Boy! All same, Large glass! Top THE SLACKER O, Cupid, where art thou When little Joe next door Doth ask his playmate if she'll be His wife forevermore? O, Cupid, where art thou When Mamma says, "'Tis best for you My little sweetheart angel girl, To marry him (he is so well-to-do)? O, Cupid, where art thou When Jim (or John) receives promotion, And booked to far Hongkong Doth sing of love's devotion? O, Cupid, where art thou When preachers quote to see If any man can shew just cause Why didst thou not save rice? Didst thou not know About the seed of love implanted in the breast Of someone else? Who made it so - Was it at thy behest? Didst thou not know When I within my teens was wed That in my best friend's wedded mate Was growing then this seed to make me wish me dead Didst thou not know- Somewhere, sometime, when I was off my guard, This seed would blossom forth To make life hard? Dost thou not know O'er half the world doth blame thee For wedding bells that ring too soon? Blue-bells of love that ne'er can be! O, Cupid, where art thou And all thy myriad angels out of tune Who come and sing their songs of love At night-too late, and not at lovely noon O, Cupid, where art thou Whene'er some lowly sub upon thy staff Pours out the poppy's wormwood on our lives Disguised as honey, making e'en the Devil laugh Thou slacker, Cupid, wake and set to right All thy mistakes - the souls forlorn Who meet through thy neglect too late And wish they'd ne'er been born! Top SHORE LEAVE Said Captain Sam, U.S.S. "Mary Ann'' To Commander William Holmes: "A summer day in Hongkong Bay Was made for lazy bones." Commander Holmes of the British Squad- A damn fine chap was he The ship he had was the prize each lad Would fight for on the sea. Said Sam, "My men are restless when They're cooped up over here." 'Twas Holmes reply, " My men near die From heat here every year." " We go to sea with Dry Rule naught three Said the Yankee with a wink- "Though against the rules made only for fools What say you to a drink? "All right 'old top' I don't mind a drop Said Holmes, "I think 'tis right This spell we'd break if our men should take Their joint shore leave tonight." "Agreed," said Sam with a hel-uv-a slam Then smiles rolled o'er their cheeks And all that night with a hel-uv-a fright Hongkong turned out the Sikhs. (The Hongkong Force gives a natural course Of lessons when whey teach Each drunken Gob - though they have some job - When Yanks and Limeys beach.) For days and days in the tropical rays The sun beat in the court While Captain Sam as meek as a lamb And Holmes the same old sort Would bail their men with gravity when The Court of the British Isles Had fined both ships for broken lips Though black eyes brought them smiles. Now summer's gone and they've moved along Both ships are far away Up where I'll tell 'tis cold as hell In Vladivostok Bay. Their fighting men will scrap now 'n then To find the better one But orders with them are orders e'en when The hard day's work is done. The shake's the thing when they leave the ring A rule that means fairplay They fight and sing with a hel-uv-a fling In the Anglo-Saxon way. Top NIGHT BOAT FROM HONGKONG TO CANTON We leave Hongkong resplendent With planets in gay attire Each glittering flashing brilliant A guiding beacon fire Inverted bowl of the heavens Clove by the Milky Way Star-life in teeming millions Illume the stellar day. With Hongkong Isle behind us- A cluster of baby stars Reflects upon the waters The paths that will be ours. Here gathered from all nations We meet the East and West- A group of all professions Gold not our only quest. We feel the boat's pulsations Propellers against the tide As steaming up the channel Past phantom junks we glide. Past lights of old Cap See Mun With channel lights beneath Gray mountains in the distance Float on a vapory sheet. We pass the grim Two Brothers- Two islands all alone- Like sentinels ever watching This danger-ridden zone. The Sikh guards armed with carbines Be-turbanned-grim-upright Pace to-and-fro while watching For pirates through the night. Between barred decks sleep natives Packed humans-like sardines- With hawkers selling medicines For all their ailing dreams- A living struggling cargo Bent on its joy - its crime - A protoplasmic wonder - A floating speck of time. The night wears on in cadence With thumping of the steam - We come to the Canton Delta Cut through the yellow stream Soft molten rolling cloud racks Fill spaces overhead Reflect the dancing light beams From gold to darkest red Clouds bank the walled horizon With wierd and grotesque forms On tolling hills are ruined Pagodas of the storms- Comes purple dawn with battlements Upholding Eastern sky Late dewy shreds e'er melting As silvery clouds pass by. Cocks crow - the dogs give warning - The cocks they crow again - Floats lazy smoke with morning To greet the dawn's refrain. We enter Canton's river But ere we've time to stop Lithe water folk swarm over Our decks, our stern, our top Mad jabbering like monkeys- Man, woman, maid and child- Dense teeming hoards of Canton Resound like jungles wild. Here time began for age of man Here time will cease to be Here life goes on without a plan A separate entity Here all things are exotic and We feel exotic too Here mystery's round the corner and There's zest to what we do- Here dreamers may forget the world And foreigners be kings- Here's where the commonplace is strange With topsy turvy things. Top AT ANCHOR On Canton's delta estuary Storm-tossed junks at anchor ride Sea pilgrims droning sanctuary Music of the lapping tide Their swarthy mariners in song- At rest from battles long and hard- Through typhoons - with their hearts as strong As seasoned shrouds fast to the yard Sea hawks whose wakes around the world Have glistened in the sun now on their rails- Their golden woven sheets enfurled And laid to rest their battered sails. Suspended are the yards on every mast That once was rooted in the forest gloom But now to keel and decks and rigging fast Bestript - no Ionger called upon to bloom Masts kist by rain adown their naked sides Caressed by winds that sing the songs they know Borne on the inward and the outward tides On phantoms of the deep - they come and go To loom at evening o'er the river's sheet At rest between their voyages remain Till newer cargo stored within the fleet Their silence changed to flapping wings again. These ghostly ships have eyes that never sleep As partly fish and partly bird in form Ne'er rising from the bosom of the deep Embraced by sea-birds winged upon the storm. What stories could these sturdy vessels tell What calms and storms and wildest piracies? Beyond our dream - adventure's wierdest hell These sailing junks that go down to the seas! Top THE SANCTIMONIOUS GRIFFIN Sad is the view When angels bath Revealed anew The stony path! O Billy was a gentle boy An unassuming lad Who smoked sweet-scented cigarettes With jas'min tea when bad! To picnics he was always asked And ushered at the church Whilst we and other huskies were Left outside in the lurch. Till finally so good was he So evangelical He tried to save men of the sea And sampan girls from hell. He preached against all human joys And nightly could be seen When reading Scripture to the boys And girlies off Shameen. But soon we saw the prayer meetings Called by Billie Boy Attended less and less until They left the sleek Ho Toy A daughter of the outcast hordes Defeated long ago And driven to a water life Where Canton rivers flow- She kowtowed to her gods each day The Chin Chin gods we see When browsing through the muck and mire Of temples near Sha-kee A number-one wee Chin Chin girl No Christian joss was she But Ho - she had a business eye. And so she caught Bill-ee! The sons of Han And daughters too May worship as The Christians do Their hearts remain In Buddha's care More vital is Their daily fare. Top NEPTUNE'S DAUGHTER The signals are flying Red balls on the mast The wind is now sighing The sails scurry past But all on the "Margot" Are ready to leave The harbor of Canton For Hongkong at eve We pull up the anchor Each man of our crew Stands by for the battle As sailormen do Then scudding the reaches We head for Whampo Through shrouds the wind screeches To eastward we go But ere we reach Bocco The forts at the bite The typhoon is howling And black is the night The skipper is singing Enjoying the storm Above roaring billows We hear his wild song: "O, batter my windows blow and blow Ye winds from over the seas Tonight I'm snug where'er ye go Ensconced below with ease Whenever ye shake and rattle the pane And tear at my cabin door And bring to your aid my old friend rain I know that we've met before- Last year when ye tore my sails away And left me to wallow the sea Ye gave me the thrill I feel today To stir up the soul in me! But where o, vagrant have ye been Through all the seasons round What sails have ye shattered and torn since then What ships have ye cast a-ground? And why do I love your fiery teeth That hiss and spit in the gale O, is it because my soul ye greet With something that will not quail? Something that's left of primitive man That's handed down to me Something of battle which never can From brute in man be free? Why rise and fall and lash and flay And shake and writhe and roll O, why more ugly by night than day And why do ye take such toll? Perchance ye are kin to man and beast From North and South and West And others who sing when from the East Your songs come deep in the breast Songs that we sing whene'er ye blow Songs that are wild and free Songs of a life lived long ago Songs for a man o' the sea!" The skipper's daughter A child of the sea Though only twelve summers A brave lass is she E'en tossed by the billows And wracked by the storm A dream-child so fearless She thinks of no harm. Tonight she is restless With mind to the waves A child of the elements Like winds as they rave She stops her father's singing With wild piercing cry: "Oh, Dad, someone's calling Someone's going to die!" "Still child," cries the Skipper, Thou wilt ever dream!" But hardly he's spoken When we hear a scream. With searchlight on waters All eyes o'er the sides Where Neptune's gay daughters Unlashed a thousand tides "'Tis there!" cries the Skipper "Don't jam the life boats! Here-here - I see it - 'Tis someone - it floats! Now steady men steady A damn nasty night! O, pull ye beggars Just there to the right! Hard on the oars men A slip and we're damned! Hold there hold the devil Another inch and we're rammed! I've got it! 'Tis coming! Hard on that part oar! My God - 'tis a woman! There now - once more! In the Skipper's strong arms Is a limp! wretched form With face turned to heaven That seems to lull the storm. Below first aid is given With warmth and cheer we bring her The best from our rough stores Served by our captain's daughter. For hours twixt life and death She hovers in delirium The sad sad tale from her Strikes on our hearts a requiem! "A lady of honor and wealth was I With home and husband too But while upon the Fatshan's deck My hushand's arms around my neck I told him that I'd like to die Into the sea I'd like to glide To leave forever my husband's side Commit a glorious suicide And the damn man threw me overboard!" Top SHADOWS A shadow gay I crave to be A merry shadow on the sea To scamper after ships at night To blot the winking stars from sight To rob the clouds around the moon- With other shadows hide at noon With shadows lurk in derelicts As silent as the stygian Styx- With shadows haunt the slimy decks Of sunken craft and cast.up wrecks- With shadows of all who went to sea- All shadows of what I dreamt to be. Top DREAMING - ON THE WAY TO OLD NANNING On the way to old Nanning Young engineers we dreamed That we'd change the map and everything (While ploughing up the stream) O the blessings we would bring To the folk of old Nanning! As we tugged from drab Wuchow Si Kiang up sixty feet There we planned our bridges - how- They'd cross where Fo Ho meet- Build cities for a king On the way to old Nanning! From Bat-Ma the river wide Will flood the valleys low But the waters we would tide A million horse-power show We'd make the anvils ring On the way to old Nanning! We'd construct at dire Sum Chow Upon her wooded hills Broad green terraces allow Health balms to bear no ills Fair courts and schools we'd bring On the way to old Nanning! On the plains around Kwai Yuen Abound pastoral lands Here in justice men would soon Convert the roving bands- Put bandits on the wing On the way to old Nanning! On the way to old Nanning Tibet and far Yunnan Would then market everything O'er routes for maid and man To travel on and sing On the way to old Nanning! On the way from old Nanning We left our concrete mixers There to rust with tools and fixtures To mark the graves of comrades Whose voices no more ring On the way from old Nanning. On the way from old Nanning Where once lived forty millions There the bandits-vultures hover O'er the plains and o'er the river Death and desolation cling On the way from old Nanning. Top "GO YE FORTH AND SPREAD THE GOSPEL" O, what about our sugar And what about our tea? Or the cotton and the rubber- That's raised for you and me? Can't you see and hear the darkies A-working in the fields- Underneath the burning sunshine For what the cotton yields? Or, the workers who are weaving The cloth to clothe mankind Or the others making implements Or books to feed the mind? O, whatever is the meaning Of all this industry- That will struggle for a living Each day for you and me? 'Tis the industry at home and The industry abroad- Whether serving God or Mammon- That is all in one accord- The evangelist's hand-maiden- The merchant's ready prop- Without this firm foundation Our world would surely stop! "Go ye forth and spread the Gospel!" Are words that we know well But how would this teaching prosper- If we'd nothing we could sell? Top THE OTHER FELLOW We've often heard That fools' faces Are always seen In public places But have we heard Of all the cases Of fools we'd send To other places? There's the fool says we resemble A man in Timbuctoo- And informs our friends assembled Of tricks that man could do- And the fool who makes excuses Not asking us to dine When we still recall abuses Once caused by his "old" wine- And the man who holds up dinner Is king of fools' estate What we'd do to such a sinner We cannot here relate One who's late to concert coming And has an inside seat Or, who's dined so well - starts humming- That kind is hard to beat Oh, alas, 'tis such a pity That fools cause so much fuss And we wonder why our city Can't have more folk like us! Of asses there Are many kinds But biggest on the street Are those who underrate The minds Of other men they meet. Top HOW DO YOU READ YOUR PAPER? O, how do you read your paper In the morning or at night? Do you read it like your neighbor Who will ne'er do things a-right? Do you glance o'er all the headlines And then pounce upon your prey To disclose the latest scandal Or the horrors of the day? Do you first look for the cables In from Germany and France Or within the social column, For the latest silly dance? Do you swallow editorials And the governmental bills? Do you read the testimonials For the kidney cures and pills? Are you ever caught by titles Like "What Every Woman Knows But to find at end instructions For removing coms from toes? Do you read the "wanted" columns- For absorbing human woes- Learning how the suffering millions Have to live - how, no one knows? Or, the latest London market price Of rice or bonds and stocks? Or, the movements of the steamers That will put up at our docks? When I look at those around me- I am sure that I can tell- By the marking on their features- Of the page that each reads well. I can tell the crusty fellow Who will read with frenzied ire But finds "nothing in the paper" And then throws it in the fire. And of one thing I am certain-- Such a welcome sight to greet- 'Tis the happiness of children Which demands the funny sheet. O, the paper is a " creature " With a great and wondrous sight- It is born anew each morning And it dies again at night! Yes, it caters to the masses And the masses for it pay- It must satisfy all classes In their each and every way. Very often do I wonder What another man can find Looking in the "useless" columns That will never suit my mind. Then there's one thing I remember- That this world's a funny place- And I know what's sauce for others Will not suit my acid face. Top THE CALL PRIMEVAL O would I were a flying squirrel Or e'en a chimpanzee To swing from branches overhead And glide from tree to tree To hang on boughs with ne'er a care But plucking fruit for mate To chase and catch - embrace, ensnare- In this primeval state Or better far - a panther lithe To spring upon my prey To roam alone the hills at night To browse away the day Or e'en a tiny warbling bird To fly about and sing Such music as the world's ne'er heard To charm each living thing! These thoughts don't come whene'er I stroke My beard - or roam afar- They're thoughts that come whene'er I smoke My pipe or my cigar. Top PREDIGESTINATION Please pardon my suggestion I've mental indigestion Persuing all the "digests" of the day The digest - literary- The readers' commentary- And digests of what politicians say. 'Tis woe unto the reader Who must now be a speeder Through mazes of our governmental bills- In tabloid form they hit us With predigested jitters- Hell's blazes of our current history's ills. I suggest in compensation We digest our conversation To a minimum of what will do us harm- Wnile talking to my neighbor- He used not sword nor sabre But talked away my trusty starboard arm. Top THE ARCHEOLOGIST OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE I've always envied excavators Who travel far and wide To hunt the dinosaur's eggs In deserts where they hide- To open tombs of Egypt's kings To pry upon their mummies To rob their queens of wedding rings To dig and dig for dummies- To visit Bali and Sumatra And steal the natives' wives- Or scale the needle Cleopatra- Such men lead noble lives. I've envied Peary, Byrd and Nansen For going to the Poles To see the sun for months on end- Inspiring are such souls. I've envied those who sail the seas And visit southern isles- To loaf and dream in summer breeze- To bask in sunny smiles. I too have travelled far alone I've searched through cranny and nook To find the rarest species known- One who returns a book! Top ADVENTURE Adventure's fine- I will admit That I am very Fond of it- Detective tales Make me respond To one who takes A million bond- The stories new or tales of old On land or on the sea Of buccaneers and pirates bold Have great appeal for me- E'en my Aunt Mary Prudish spinster Still hides behind her fan Avoiding all that She thinks sinister Such as every passing man And yet the old girl Is a brick She scolds me when I'm taking One night off But gets a "kick" From tales of wild Law breaking. Top WANTED: A NAME! In our comity of nations There's a very ancient race Ever famous for pendragons Whose fair deeds they would efface- By a name that they might fit on To old Albion or Brit Which would never sound like Brit-on And a Britisher's not it. Would Britonian or Britishite Pronounce with greater ease- Britishonian might be all right But never Britishese! Then there is the Albionite- And this name alone might please Or, again we may call and write Them down as Albionese! But the Scottish and the Irish And the Welsh who'd take to Celt, Would they not object to English And nuke their objections felt? Whether Anglican or Welshman Or, Erinite or Scot- It is certain that the Irish Wont give up the name they've got! Top SPARE THE TREES O, Woodman, spare the tree, That here doth spread its gentle shade- Whose gnarled trunk so gloriously Bespeaks the hearts of man and maid! When long ago for good or bad, In bark so young and tender They carved their names, the maid and lad He swore he would defend her Against the wiles and ways of man, Throughout their lives to be- So true the compact ran- And witnessed by this tree. O, Woodman, spare the tree, With such a hallowed tale- Beneath these branches silently Have I grown old and pale! Alas, the boy who carved for me, (Against the wiles of men) Initials in this lovely tree He left me there and then Although he pledged that we should live Together for alway- Was it the kiss I did not give That sent him far away? O, Woodman, fell the tree With others that portend Our hopeless dreams quite shamelessly With carvings that pretend To bind a troth twixt man and maid, And place them side by side To keep their shadows and their shade From e'er a would-be bride! And when collected -all of those Encarved for troths - a token As many will you have - who knows- As there are hearts-not-broken! Top DIGNITY O waddle on, O waddle on Through season's rain or shine Ye penguins have a waddle that I wish to God were mine- O waddle on, O waddle on Through weather foul or fair Ye penguins' waddle waddle keeps Your heads up in the air O waddle on. O waddle on Ye feathered dignitaries If ye but had eye glasses on Ye'd look like secretaries- O waddle on, O waddle on Like congressmen on ice Or penguinistic senators Ye look so very nice O waddle on, O waddle on I wish I knew your thoughts Ye wear the robe of dignity Perhaps you're full of naughts O waddle on, O waddle on Ye stand the winter's gaff And look both wise and stupid but Your waddle makes me laugh. Top NERO THE HERO Through centuries Since Rome was burned The books record What Nero earned Old Nero's blamed Because of harm That came to Rome Sans fire alarm 'Twas started by His adversaries Because he played His Stradivaria- But merely sincerely He made a mistake And earned he quite dearly His rep as a rake Instead of his fiddle If bowed with his beads He'd called on the firemen To witness his deeds Commanded the Romans To kneel and to pray From ashes would Nero Be hero today. Top TROPICAL ECSTASY When flickering sunbeams Dance o'er the grass A lake tinkling ice Within the glass A symphony No tongue can tell That's parched like A burning hel- We see the grass Turn green to brown And gulp our cooling Liquor down We sing of the sea We sing of the sky We sing of the planets That pass us by We speak of the wonders Of nature and man The vastness of China The charm of Japan But greater, 0 greater Than any of these Is the burning sun setting Behind the trees. Top ABSENCE My friend bath gone across the sea, And homeward I return, The sea gull's cry depresses me The foaming billows churn 'Tis Fortune's sorry turn To take away my friend. The ocean wide, the drifting tide Are placed between us now, And silently as time will glide To Fate's decree I bow- To pain I must allow From absence of my friend. Each echo is awakening The deepest thoughts I know, For every space left void doth ring With music soft and low- All tones that come and go Now shape thee - absent friend. Of thy great presence I'm bereft And now I see and feel That everything thou touched and left Thy imprint doth reveal E'en though I try - conceal This vision of thee, friend. The open door, the empty chair The books thou touched with love And every whisper in the air And every star above- The paths we used to rove All now recall thee-friend. My prayers forever on will be- Though years between us burn- That fortune ever smile on thee And hasten thy return- May Neptune once more churn The waves-Retum, o, friend. Top EXILES On tropical bays, Far Eastern Seas Where mystery isles belong- The rumbling surf in symphonies Accompanies our song. In vibrant tones our hearts e'er sing Enchanting Homeland lays- Sweet and low and murmuring To cheer our lonely days- With lays of olden melody And childhood lullabies Our souls are brought in harmony With worlds of great emprise. We drift afar in space where dwell The tones of every glow Reflected from the sunset spell We longing exiles know- And vibrant to the sonant strings Attuned to every heart Are chords released on friendship's wings For loved ones far apart With songs that are akin to all In tune with nature's best Vibrating voices ever call Our heart-strings home to rest. Top THE FAMILY SHRINE When travelling up and down this godless land Through Yangtze valley towns and everywhere There looms the family shrine on every hand Where spirits of the ancestors repair. This link the Orientals keep, alas! With those who've passed and those who are no more We Occidentals leave the thoughts of past And worship what for us life hath in store. The family shrines - by all the types we know- Of sturdy mariner or gentle born- In sacred memory where'er we go- Are photographs of those from whom we're torn. Top DREAMLINE The streamline car The streamline boat The streamline sink The streamline coat The streamline train The streamline baby Then still remains The streamline lady The streamline spouse For a streamline life In a streamline house With a streamline wife The streamline face A streamline skin Now haunts the space I travel in Old-fashioned are My base desires I like the good Old-fashioned fires Old-fashioned fires That bum within A rugged face With sunburned skin- A girl with lines No eel would crave But lines that make Me misbehave- Lines that make me Dream by day The Dreamlines that A lover may Feel a lover's Loving thrill And pay a lover's Loving bill Speed mania rules It is now said But some things Are best delayed Delayed for dreaming As of yore Of love as love Was loved before The streamline girl's A sight to see But the dreamline girl's The girl for me. Top OUR SYNTHETIC WORLD Today is yesterday's future And tomorrow's past. The synthetic age Is here at last The dream of sages And alchemists past- The dreams of old Are reality With synthetic gold And synthetic tea. laboratories And not the field Our harvest seeds In tabloids yield: Our synthetic wood And synthetic cloth- Our synthetic food And synthetic moth- The Bombyx moth Is not required For rayon got The silk-worm fired- The lamb no longer Need be shorn For staple fibre Will be worn- E'en though each And every stitch Will carry it's Synthetic itch. With synthetic joy- Synthetic gin- We'll next employ Synthetic sin. Top THE WISDOM OF SATAN Missie Bubbling Well In Hop Sing's shop- "Wanchee one piecee meat No wanchee bone No wanchee grizzle No wanchee fat No wanchee skin." Hop Sing talkee "Missy me thinkee More better you catchee One piecee egg." Top EUPHONY Missy to Number One boy One day talkee "Today you talkee Cook Catchee one piecee pigeon Dress in aspic Puttee casserole"- (Boy him bime-bye talkee) "Missy me talkee Cook Cook him talkee me Velly sorry No can catchee today One piecce castor oil." Top** CELESTIAL NAVIGATION Light house: Him no good Mebbe fog he come Light house No can savvy. Whistle buoy: Him no good Mebbe typhoon come Whistle buoy No can hear. Fog Horn: Him no good Plenty time I makee him blow Fog he all same come Stay water top side. Top SHANGHAI WAIF "No mamma No papa No whisky soda No chow " Pierced the air And pierced the din Of the Shanghai crowd On road Nankin! "No mamma No papa No brother No sister " While nimble fingers And nimble hand Juggled four knives Near the chow-chow stand. "No mamma No papa No dolla No chow " Came through the crowd To the passers by From the Chinese girl With a naughty eye. "No mamma No paper No whisky soda No chow." Jostled by rickshaws She cursed them aloud And juggled four knives Amusing the crowd. "No mamma No papa No brother No sister " Then a big Sikh Policeman's Baton Just missed her. "No mamma No papa No dolla No chow " The knives went like magic Despite the mock bow- Juggling four chop sticks She wrinkled her brow- "No mamma No papa No whiskey soda No chow " She slipped across A sailor's path- A sailor drunk Who swore his wrath- "No mamma No papa No whiskey soda No chow " "Get out of my way Or I'll kick your pants. " With grimace she said- "No have got pants." "No mamma No papa No whiskey soda No chow " Ten cents please! Top GOOD OLD WORLD! I hear The world's all wrong And I must confess That I am in A hell of a mess For I have helped To make the thing Just to hear My children sing- I worked for years And I was busy But now the damn thing Makes me dizzy- With the grain God made the chaff And now nor God Nor man can laugh At old or new Mythology Without fouling Ideology- We've prison bars And stripes for humor Supprest beneath The festering tumor Of unbalanced budgets- Of unpaid bills- Destructire gadgets- Expensive ills. The world's not wrong I must confess- 'Tis man who's in A hell of a mess. Top THE THOROUGHBRED The head erect A charm about the neck Of lines that make a poem- Sensitive the nostrils And well defined the nose The head is something all its own In every graceful pose; The eyes that gaze at me With such a knowing look Attract me with their gentleness- The clearness of a brook- Sometimes these eyes Are springs of liquid Deep as is the soul- At least They look that way to me! The delicate and web-like tracery Of veins beneath the skin E'er pulsate with the rise and fall Of heart throbs from within- Why say more Of one whose very presence Is a charm Inspiring E'en the roughest men To shield such grace from harm? The artists of all times Have died to win for art The secret of these lines of limbs That draw us to the heart Of these rare queens of sport- E'er making sport for kings- And yet-a stable boy To kingship may arise In thought And in his actions by The light within A thoroughbred's Or lovely woman's eyes. Top BEAUTY AND THE BEAST She whom I love I must not love; That she loves me I know- With love as pure as purest gold Or as the driven snow. A tough old dog of war am I, That she loves me's a shame- An ugly brute near twice her age And still she'd take my name. The more I tell her 'tis not right, Protest my wickedness- The more she swears that as my wife She'd bring me happiness. O, what to do with maid like this, Is more than I can tell- For when she is as old as I I'll be as old as hell! Top MANY HAPPY RETURNS Come drink with me but one cup more, To purge out hearts of sorrow- We know not what the dawn may store Within the sad tomorrow! Dash for a train and make it at last- Rush through the rain with towns flying past- Walk on the ceiling - something's gone wrong Things topsy turvy where I belong! Out at a station - jump on again- Cling to the windows - batter my brain- Jump off a bridge and slide down a precipice Over a ridge to light on a pretty miss- Rest on the hand of the maiden so fair Then try to stand on her sweet scented hair- Soon brushed aside when the winds come along- Away on the tide of man's busy throng- Attracted by odors, dash to a scene Where rots a carcass of putrid gangrene- Here try to enter the mouth and the eyes- Blocked by the buzzing of blue bottle ffies- See smoke arise far over the wood- Mecca for flies, a home to the good- Off with a breeze as straight as an arrow- Over the trees in track of a sparrow- Dinner is cooking with fragrance of spice Know without looking, in there it is nice- Wait at the screen till someone comes out- Must not be seen or I'll get a clout- At last in the pantry, my hunger to break Delectable sundries for me to partake Lo, what is this that I am caught in? Stepping I miss the skin I was wrought in: A voice from the distance thundering now, Angry insistence making a row! Blink with a blink, half open my eyes- Think with a think, I see the blue skies- Gads, what a train of thoughts in my head: The voice bawls again, "You sleep like the dead. Get up lazy beggar, the house is a sight- Wish you many happy returns-of the night " When the head is hot And lips are parched And thoughts of the night are with you- It is time you got A sip and searched For a chip of the block that hit you! Top ALIBI JULIUS E. O,Julius E, as a model he'd be, And never tell a lie When caught 'red handed' he'd say when landed, "So help me God, I'll die!" O,Julius E, he would flirt would he With the girls who'd pass him by- And never admit it, e'en when he was pitted With the wink still in his eye. So Julius E, as he never could be Found guilty of anything harmful- Was caught in a whirl and he married the girl- And say but she was an armfull. O, Julius E, he would practice, would he An innocent look on his features- Whene'er he came in he would look without sin, The saddest and queerest of creatures. So Julius E, of innocence he Was guilty and caught in his lair- No longer he'd try tell his alibi And so he gave up in dispair. - Then Julius E, at last we could see Had made up his mind he would die- But when he reached Hell, he only could tell He came with his sin's alibi. Top OLD BILL When Bill was young And full of pep He tried his best To make a "rep" But ne'er a "rep" Bill made - you see- His youth and pep Went on a spree! But now Old Bill Is good - is he- He never goes Out on a spree- And yet he cannot Make a "rep " Because he hasn't Got the pep! Top AN APPRECIATION OF NOTHING Nothing is something With a hole around it And through the hole There's a ribbon in it And when you tie the ribbon it's gone- That's nothing That's nothing- Love at a summer resort Engaged in by some as a sport To others- That's nothing That's nothing- A girl sends a boy For naught but sheer joy For-get-me-nots Forget-me-nots That's nothing Just nothing- The boy sends a girl roses And pretends and proposes That's nothing That's nothing- The hell it is! Top THANK GOD FOR THAT Poets, turks and bachelors Have in their verses sung- That virtues of the many Are not contained in one- But ne'er was the poet Turk, bachelor withal Thanking lucky stars like I My girl has not the faults of all. Top WHY NOT? Why should her eyes not be red, Or salmon, apricot or pink E'en lilac, heliotrope, or purple shades Would add a little zest to life - I think. Top BRUTUS WAS AN HONORABLE MAN! I read each "wanted column" ad And what I find there makes me sad- With head-lines listing "Lost and Found" (So honest does this caption sound) I read and find it is a frost- All of the "ads" are items lost! Top THIS REVOLVING WORLD Has fortune passed you by this year- If so good friend pray have no fear- For like the years that pass us by And silent planets in the sky Good fortune travels round and round Just like this world where joy is found- And in its circular racing track It must someday perforce come back And pass the spot on which you stand And drop right in your friendly hand. Top AN HOUR Upon the shores of far Cathay Down where the fiery dragons play Where centuries pass as though a day I rested on the sand- Beneath the purple dome of night Pierced by the star-world's glimmering light Illuming Heaven's avenues bright Along the Circling Band A princess of this lotus land Came - shared with me the cooling sand And there I kissed her trembling hand While meteors passed by- She listened to my tales of old Of valorous times when knights were bold- The sweetest stories ever told To fairest of the fair. Then planets rolling into space To watch the moon with smiling face Glide past overshadowed in his race Looked in upon us there- While rumbling surf and sighing trees Orchestral tones borne on the breeze Re-echoed far above the seas For one as sad as I Had I not come around the world By ocean wave and typhoon hurled With sails for Loveland rent and furled But with a lover's message- To pass in ships that sail by night So many maidens in my plight Of being ever doomed to flight A lonesome bird of passage- To find upon this distant shore A maiden who bath ne'er before Been loved by Love-and evermore Earn not a lover's wages? But lonesome souls if asked may say: To love by night or love by day When lovers know a lover's way An hour may count for ages! Top DESERT DREAMS Here on the plains that nurtured barb'rous tribes. Where Khans of Tartary were forced to fall, When rule of Chow and all their worthy scribes Gave way to Ch'in, the builder of the wall- Bemusing what the Folks are thinking now At Home, where routine fills the daily page- Where generations through the years allow Connected rounds of frijnds for every age- Allured by Dame Adventure's gentle sway The Gobi Desert only for my bed I think like all who take the rover's way And wonder if they mourn me with the dead- I see the bees upon the blooming vine Creep in and out the honeysuckle flower And hum in tune with dreams that once were mine To fill the days of youth-each golden hour- I walk adown the lanes I learned to love Where chestnut trees in Autumn shed their burrs Beneath the leaves that rustled from above To music of a voice that once was Hers- I wonder if around me with Romance The nieces and the nephews weave my name As I of those whose absence did enhance Their travels-0, I hope it is the same! Whilst I'm enveloped by the screen of night 'Neath canopy of jewelled indigo I hear the wild-geese honking in their flight To warmer climes before the coming snow- A dog now barks afrom another camp- I feel the muffled breath of camels near- The coolies play their cards beneath the lamp And thus, I ask what comes within the year? I wonder, do the lights of Milky Way Reflect the souls of all the millions spent In Asia, where the years are but a day Of history, upon this continent! I dreamt until once more I was a boy- Familiar voices ringing in my ears- A dozen school-mates entered to annoy With capers, as they had in other years- Then suddenly I learned that I was blind- The darkness came upon me unawares- My happiness was full-I did not mind- I heard the tones I knew that once were Hers- And with a loving kiss upon my hair And fingers clasped with mine, like olden days It mattered not were all the angels there- Such ecstasy ne'er comes by other ways- I struggled long and hard that I might see- Add color to the voice that brought me joy- Then shades of night rolled back their canopy To show the worried visage of my "boy." The Autumn rain has come on me at last And beaten long upon my grizzled face- My caravan is leaving-time has passed- The dawn now marks the camel's measured pace- The mud is deep and everything is wet- The coolies dripping add but to the grime- Such soggy chilled discomfort here, and yet Romance it may be called-some future time. Top FORBIDDEN FRUIT Never judge Of a book By its cover: This has been Said before. Nor a girl By the halo Above her, If on a Ball room floor. A vision fair in old Peking With eyes of desert blue And when she danced a barb'ric fling My senses upward flew. To see a human form divine Upon a rhythmic wave Is more than words can well define When nature won't behave. My youth it craved just one caress Of heaven's joy 'twould seem To bask within the loveliness Of such a sylphic dream. Alas, thought I, 'tis Fancy's call- Tomorrow I must go Beyond the Manchu's famous wall To Siber's dreary snow. The caravan it leaves at dawn With camels dignified; Into the vastness I'll be drawn With Thought alone my bride. And lo, behold, the morning-basked In smoke o'er all the town Revealed a form befurred-who asked To ride my camel brown- Fair Katrinka of the floating dance- The one of yester eve- Who by some trick of Goddess Chance Must take a hasty leave From walled Peking through Nankau Pass By caravan as old As paths worn deep in rocks-alas, With sorrows never told: And so we rode-a pensive twain- Beneath the Lama's Gate Quite lazily our desert train Played silently with Fate. Upon the chords of my poor heart- This maiden spoke the tongue That eyes alone betray in part When loving songs are sung- Deep was her artist-soul, so full Of love to satisfy And make each hour more beautiful To live and not to die. Betimes she'd entertain me with Old songs from Russian scribes- Again she'd change with dash and wit To tales of Tartar tribes. And oft her smiles would drive me wild To claim her for my bride And then she'd feign a weeping child To slip away and hide. "Twas thus we played for days and days. And nightly when she'd sleep Her face would bless the desert haze Through vigils I would keep. One night more beautiful than all- The shadow of the moon Concealed a bandit's crew whose call Raised pandemonium soon- Within our camp, mid groans and shrieks I dashed to save her life- Was bound and gagged, then dawn's pale streaks Revealed-the Chieftain's wife! We see a plum, A beauty-peach- With eyes agleam For it we reach- It's fragrance calls Us to our toes And then it falls To hit our nose- And "Oh I " we sing- Or else we cry: "The rotten thing!" And pass it by. Top THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA With China's glory far behind, Her splendor long bedimmed, Here stands the work a master mind Hath built, with human-limbed Equipment in ye olden days When brain and brawn were free From steam and other modern ways- This Great Wall to the sea. Five hundred million yards of stone With sand and lime and mortar fill, Were borne by hands and feet alone O'er valley, plain and hill- Two thousand miles and many more Of granite slabs and blocks Were laid from China's eastern shore To Tibet's lofty rocks. A million of camels and of men, With sheep and goats, and wives Here toiled in hoards beyond our ken- Old China's seething lives. Here standinr on this monument- We ask the Gods of Time To tell us how the Soul was spent Of China in her prime. Top THE STORY TELLER When Jack Frost was on the windows And the winter nights were bleak We would gather round and listen When our Uncle jeff would speak. He would tell us tales of travel Over mountains plains and sea. And such tales as he'd unravel Would enchant a child like me. So please listen and I'll tell you All about our Uncle J- Who's the biggest and the kindest Man in all the world today! You may picture by your fire-side His betanned and rugged face As though chiseled from the mountains- A true son of Nordic race- With his high and noble forehead And benevolent his chin- And his merry little eyes that Always twinkle from within- With his ears set low and ample He can hear the strangest sounds Of the birds and beasts of jungles When he makes his yearly rounds Through the latitudes e'er changing Upon either hemisphere And o'er longitudes we sailed in Merry tales with this old dear. He would tell us of the monkey That would tease the Jaguar wild just to frighten him away from Where the monkey kept his child- How the jaguar fooled the monkey By a cunning little ruse And the monkey made a meal that Ne'er a jaguar would refuse- How in Tierra del Fuego Or, in Chili and Peru Or, way down in Patagonia Were eagle hawks, he knew- How the eagles watched the hunters Of guanaco-and would greet Every hunting party-trail them , For what hunters wouldn't eat- How a very famous hunter Stalked guanacos in a skin Of another of their brothers To conceal himself within- Till a puma took the hunter For guanaco one fine day- As he slept within his make-up- Now he stalks no more that way- How a man in South Australia Who though eighty years of age Hunted dingo in the mountains With a bounty for his wage- How he got but, one big dingo In a month with battered gun Took it thirty miles to get Thirty shillings for his fun- Till one cold and frosty morning Came a woodman to the hills Where he found, the hunter smiling Though quite dead from age and chills. So will end the life of many An old hunter in this world Who will leave their sport a-smiling When their toes are upward curled- And I'm sure that Uncle Jeff will go A-smiling with the brave And ask for nothing better Than a mountain for a grave; Top MANCHURIA (1924) If from the East we come in through the door Which opens to the arm of old Korea And travel northward overland we'll find The barren hills, from years of wasted lives, Are being patched by thrifty Japanese With pine and oak and other hardy trees- Where waste and desolation of the past Bestirred some two or more score years ago By horny-handed rugged Western men Who sunk their shafts and built the mountain flume And opened to the torpid native mind The light and life of Progress-with the rails To reach the great Manchurian plains. If through the Southern or the Western Gate We reach the plains along the Yellow Sea Or enter at the end of China's wall Or, from the North through Siber's dreary snow We find the pioneer hath left his bones In silent spots amid the clustered stones- The hardy ones whose lot it was to roam Afar from kith and kin and friendly town To come from many corners of our globe- Afar from every homeside stream and field Or country lane with memories filled In unison with every season's mood. Here staged upon the bleak Manchurian plain Afar from all that Western men hold dear We see the drama's drab and dreary course, The slow and sluggish metal with its dross E'er mixing and remixing to upbuild An empire where but in the yesteryear Through wind and sand the Mongol stunned by time Was moving with a dull and bovine tread. Here biting all the ugly dust and grime We find the men of Nordic stock inured To roughness of the blazers of the trail The man from north of Tweed, the hardy Scot Who drifted over cold Siberian plains Prospecting down the Ulya to Okotsk The man from Queensland who had trekked alone Along the Andes searching gold Or up the Rio de la Plat' to Corumba The one who built the plant that made the guns Which drove the Russians backward from these plains- Another browsed around the Philippines To mix here with the fop just out from Home Complaining o'er the absence of the Ritz, Its perfume baths and dainty manicure- The trader who will stay for weary years To make a home on uncongenial soil, A Western home in splendid isolation Like the lotus gracing well the stagnant pool- A flower in a sea of desolation. What of the day prescribed by Time to come When o'er these plains spring cities fair and -rear- Will those who come to fill the banquet halls, The fairy balls or drama on the stage- To watch the manmns perform like all Now here to toil and eat the dust and grime- Will they who ride along the avenues green Displaying charms-the fairest of the fair- Will they-yes, all the dainty ones to come Give but a single thought to these old dogs Who struggle now to scratch the crusted earth And turn the dross of rough hewn pavements gold? Top THE PASSING OF OLD LANDMARKS (IN MEMORIUM-1923) Appalling the sight to those who have seen it, But saddest to those who far, far away Are forced to submit to horrors of silence- Intense is our mourning, though voiceless-we pray. About the middle of a century The gods bath blessed with their enlightenment, Our hardy Western mariners were landed Upon the fairest of Pacific isles- So fair it seemed descended from the gods- lts mountain slopes extendin- to the sea With verdure ever green enkist by rain From clouds that hugged the rugged mountain peaks- Where mists through night e'er slept in valleys low Supporting oft the crests of sacred hills, Arresting eyes of e'en our hardy men- With beauty that would soften hearts of oak- Where art was part of every layman's life, Where wants were few and comforts there were many- A sylvan-like simplicity the rule That each have time for meditative thought. Where paper doors in straw-thatched cottages With amber-glow like fire-flies in the night, Sent forth their merry and yet plaintive sounds- Vibrating koto, samisen and flute. Where temple bells would moan the end of day O'er sacred lichen-covered tombs where rest The long departed great, the great as known To stoical descendents of the East- A static passive greatness much of thought And needing union with the Western mind For action, where but thought would pass away- To raise the world a new and wonder child. Our mariners here joined this old regime And added they their Nordic sturdiness To drop from time to time their hardy seeds Of rugged and perennial Western trees: The oak, the elm, the ash and maple too, With tender saplings planted far from home To fall on rocky soil and come to grief In marshes of the Oriental lust. But others they upon the soil took root And over half a century have stood As landmarks to the Westerners who climb The latitudes of Asiatic shores- Some noted for their stocky sturdiness, Their solid trunks and character of Thor- Trees of Albion benevolent of shade Sweet gentleness e'er whispering through their leaves. How oft old travellers basked in kindly light And hospitality a-from the West Transplanted to a forei-n soil but true To lands their ancestors helped to build. And though they drank of scorching native suns And breathed alien air of foster-land They shed the glory and the blessings too From stock of which their ancestry was proud. Their friendships blest the isle of their adoption And struggling through the springtime of their lives Until acclimatized to Eastern world, They reached their kindly autumn years of life. From titne to time they passed-these sentinels- As silently as mom enfolds the mist And one by one no longer graced the shores- Horizon of this once enchanted isle. With passing of these soldiers brave, of time, Our gratefulness enhanced those left behind- Woe, therefore, unto us Old Eastern Hands When wrath of Gods of Quake and Fire and Wave Hath lashed in such a fury as to take These staunch old Beacon Lights and rugged trees- Our friends, the landmarks of the Isle of Fans- What purpose bath the Gods-leave us behind? Our prayers to God of Good we pour- Our hope for those who've gone before Our comrades of the days no more- We'll meet upon a friendly shore. Top WINE OF HUMAN KINDNESS I often wonder when I drink About the mists on what I think- If all the haloes that I see Are phantoms or reality- With one or two good drinks within The world about me has no sir- A maiden's smile is like a flower- All trouble passes like a shower To leave me calm as is the day When summer rains have passed away- Of course I know long faces who Will say that wine no good can do But I remember as a boy When Scriptures brought to me their joy Of happiness for all mankind One thing imprest upon my mind Was how the Good Lord with his band Would call for wine to bless the land And drink with all Disciples true Before He told them what He knew. Top PLEASE COME AGAIN The weather is "unusual" When e'er a stranger reaches town- In London, Paris, or New York- Or other places of renown- "You should have come a month ago- You should be here when we have snow- You would enjoy our season's rain If you could but a month remain-" Oh, I am wondering if ever I Can reach Japan when it is dry- In California never yet Have I arrived when it was wet- I wonder if when I reach Hell Old Nick will say I've not done well To come when all the fires are out And tell me I should rturn about. And come again for earthly reasons When Hell is in the best of seasons. Top ODE TO LADY BOUNTIFUL Not from a poet Not from a lark Not from an owl Who sees in the dark Not from an eagle That soars up on high Not from a wild goose That honks through the sky Not from a maiden Whose heart has been stilled With love she was cravin' Before it was filled Not from a bachelor Sitting at ease With no one to bother him No one to please Not from a millionaire Cold and forlorn Who sees gold in the sunrise Instead of the morn- Not from anything That you could conceive This grateful ode's written For Heaven's reprieve- Not written from sadness My lot to bemoan But written in gladness From my heart alone To tell of the rescue Of a sorrowful bird From a life of such darkness You never have heard- Not darkness of evening Not darkness of night But darkness of everything Happy and bright. Yes-I was a prisoner With only the stars Of an alien country To shine through the bars- Attended by savages Who spoke not my tongue- The language of sailors That caressed me when young- Until by God's graces In late thirty-eight 'Mid millions of faces That passed by my gate There came a kind lady With a heart full of love For birds in their cages- A voice from above- A voice full of music From a life full of fun- A voice full of gladness As warm as the sun- Whose "good-morning" was wine- Whose " good-day" was song- Whose kindness was pulling This old world along- As I've told you already She stopped at my gate. And changed the whole world Of my horrible state- From madness to gladness- From wildness to love She changed me with mildness From parrot to dove- Yes-truth it will finally Find its way out- By now you will know What this is about- 'Tis just an old parrot Who's trying to tell How a bountiful lady Has pulled him from Hell- She found me a home And found me a master- A mistress as well To make my days faster- Named for my lady I'll make her amends To merit my name Of Mr. Florenze- "Polly love Master- Polly love Missie " Is what I will say But I am no sissy- I'm now in a port Where ships come and go Where sailors are singing The songs that I know The songs that are music To one who has heard The language that's suited To a blasphemous bird. Top RAINBOW CHASERS We travel abroad to find Adventure to fill the mind Through hours and days With wonderment- Exotic ways. When a thousand leagues From home- Increased a thousand more By time-we roam O'er lands that smell Unlike our own- With sounds well Nigh unknown To us- Our ancestors- Our race- We then see palaces In our old home place. We treasure what We've left behind And wonder how We were so blind As to leave the Old town's country lane- The hicks that used To cause us pain- The poor telaticins Needing dough And everyone we used to know. Resolved are we When home- We'll go To every concert Every show- At the opera We'll have a box At every race A seat- To every night club Take our girl- By jove-but we'll Be in the whirl. Old friends New loves will be- All our relatives We'll see. Oh, what a thousand leagues From home Will do- We treasure What our native shore Possesses that we Never knew before! So home we go to old time friends Who've changed a thousand ways From those we knew and honored in Our young and carefree days- We wonder why we left the sights And scenes of foreign lands- Mysterious Oriental nights On. fascinating strands- We wonder why the other side Seems smooth on every road And why our burden's heavier than The other fellow's load- Dilemma always has two horns- We choose the smoothest fit- But horns we pass n'er look as, sharp As those on which we sit. Top IN DEFENSE OF NONSENSE I admire The monk within The cloistered cell Who lives For his salvation- But to me his life Would be a hell I'd much prefer Starvation. The banker in His gilded cage Must live By counting what Intrigues me not- I prefer to rage With friends O'er what I haven't got. The men of science I admire- To me They are the saints Who've rescued men From fear of fire- Rid life Of dire complaints. But when The beaker's empty and When the flask Is cold And cobwebs Close laboratories- Men Will still grow old- Grow old And lose their vigour For enjoyment And for fun- Collapse From winter's rigour- Collapse From burning sun- O, God give me The midway course Between Religion, science, art- And mix my life With work and love- My mind Guide by my heart. And when I go I hope there'll be A few who'll laugh And smile for me And think me not Devoid of sense Because I've written This defense. Top THE FORGOTTEN MAN Public Sap Number One Believed in everybody- To him no one Could do a wrong- He sung the praises Of mankind, places, friends- His enemies he knew not- Contented ever with his lot- With head immersed he walked Within the clouds and talked With man, woman, maid and child Savants, statesmen, bums and kings- Alas we ring for him the bell That tolls for those who picture hell A place where briquetted roses grow And fragrant souls forever glow With pride and joy and sing within Without the consciousness of sir- The tolling bells will die away As we return and end the day We buried him who'd cared not a rap That he was Number One-the Public Sap. Top THE FORGOTTEN WOMAN Cold and austere (Outwardly at least) She walked- With her head to the heavens. Straight on her path (As far as we knew) Of duty- Her watchword was promptness. She weighed all matters (With the caution Of a judge-) In her shrewdness- A place for all things (Except kissing) And all things in their place- Was her motto Slow to forget (In strength of opinion) Unyielding to wrong Was her Virtue. A princess (Or, goddess-) A queen do you ask- Or, perchance a martyr? Nay, e'en more (Than all of these) Was she- In her stronghold. She was just Sister May (Misnamed from the seasons) Twixt winter and summer- For ne'er does she bud in the springtime. Gibraltar-a monument To that which is stable and staid- In grandeur, perfection- A healthy old-maid. Top A BEACHCOMBER'S LAMENT A million dollars have I not- On easy street I have no lot And though I never whine or sob I haven't even got a job. I trudge along on weary feet- And pass the shops on every street Their windows filled with Chdstmas joys To bring good cheer to girls and boys. Ten thousand gems and I have none- A million homes-for me not one- The dough I had is now all gone- Not left one sou for wine or song. There's just one thing I wish I had To swell my heart and make me glad- Just one wee post card I could send To my old pal-my dear old friend. Top MAGNIFICENCE OF FAILURE Dreams, just dreams Adventurous dreams- I've worked and I've played Caroused in the dance- For fame I haven't A ghost of a chance. I've traveled and found In volumes of old In dusty gray libraries Nuggets of gold- Rare gems of wisdom That history has wrought From ancients who lived By deeds and by thought. The fortunes I've made- The fortunes I've lost- Were worth all the effort- Were worth all the cost! O, God, how I've lived- How I've gambled with life- E'er winning the bet- Magnificent my failures- And still not dead yetl! Top RESOLUTIONS Once more we've raced Around the track Of years that pass And ne'er come back. Once more resolved To do our bit The better if We die for it. Once more resolved To write a book That all the world May read and look To brighter things Within our soul Than heretofore Hath been its goal. Once more we swear That on our wa We'll never fail Our " line-a-day" And so we start In to indite That line a clay Which we must write The same as we Have done before And burned our diaries By the score. Top THE SWAN-SONG OF A REFUGEE (1924) I came upon an autumn breeze To sing for all the refugees- A bird equipped with broken wing A broken purse and everything. Then lo, behold! By my ovation The Times increased its circulation- While other local papers lost All their subscribers at their cost. I lost the prize of Mr. Bok And so in peace I take no stock While still I have a world to shake With pen and ink like fire and quake. Although my nerves are shaky yet My monthly bills they must be met And now there isn't one Red-(Cross) To compensate me for my loss. The wolf now scratches at my door As he hath scratched poets before- O, fool-I did not use the kind Of varnish that no wolf could find! And Oh, alas I though dreaming's nice I now must earn fhy fish and rice- I'll go to work-'tis sad but true That I may eat as coolies do. A poet's pay is not enough- I'm tired of all this "glory" stuff- To answer all the men of state My cable bills are very great They're all congratulating me For my inspiring poetry- E'en Kipling, Shaw and many more Have sent me letters by the score. Of course they're jealous of my work- I find within their praises lurk Their envy of my genius rare- Which I'll admit's beyond compare. So, good-bye readers one and all I hear the snapping wolfiets call To take from death its awful sting By starving one who'll write and sings And so henceforth you will be free From driveling lines like these from me- Lines of a singing refugee In syncopated poetry. Top WHEN WE GO SAILING HOME PRELUDE Last night while in my narrow bed I scratched the hair all off my head Until my brains were wholly porous For rhymes to suit my farewell chorus. At last I hit upon a plan To write for children maid and man Especially those who like to roam- About-WHEN WE GO SAILING HOME. OVERTURE How dull it must be For the old bargee Who will at home remain- But lucky are we Who've sailed the sea And soon will sail again! Ting-a-ling-ling! Up goes the curtain! LEAVE TAKING At last the time has come for HOME- In dreams of sultry nights We've longed for homeside hills to roam Through fancy's wildest flights! Now, dinners, cards and chits, no more- We sell whate'er we own- For stem views of old Asia's shore, To some a joy unknown. We send our P. P. C.'s around- The tidings to apprise- And then forgotten chits are found To furnish a Surprise- AND HOW! BON VOYAGE Great days will always come at last- With friends we now repair- To sail away with steamer's blast And " good byes " in the air. HONGKONG SING SONG I don't know The song the sailor sings When the sailor's a dark Chinese- It sounds like a song A sailor sings- A ribald song of the seas. Perhaps if put In English words 'Twould lose its salty smell 'Twould lose its swing And lusty ring Of devils down in hell. Perhaps it's but A " woman " song That's sung by men of the sea That's sung whenever They leave a port Or wherever they may be- For even a Chinaman's Fantan lust And long days in the hold Cannot put down The calf of the dust That calls today As of old. Perhaps it is only A sing song chant That longs for a moment of bliss- Whatever it is I do not know But it sounds a lot like this: Hongkong is an island in The Southern China Sea Where dusky maidens smile and The sing song girls are free. The sing song girls in China are A-beckoning to me From Hongkong and Eastern Asia From tropic isles and sea. Hongkong girls are Hongkong pearls As dusky as can be For Hongkong is an island in The Southern China Sea. Where green hills rise from ocean and The blue skies meet them there- Where nights are filled with music and There's mystery in the air. Where stars hang from the heavens and Where song is in the air Five seas are turned to seven and Old Hongkong calls me there. THE BRINY DEEP Once more we're out upon the sea The world revolves for us And think we now how great to he A conquering hero thus. We change and dress that we may dine And have a drink or two And tell the steward about our wine But this twixt me and you! Top THE JOLLY STEWARD Oh, jolly is the steward and Our lives are now care-free He's opened up his medicine That's good for one at sea- We'll tell you his prescription and Pray ever shall it be- Cocktails at noon not more than six- At night not less than three- And through the day no limit to The soda we may take- Of course there's something in it if 'Tis just for old time's sake- And so the world looks brighter and We now can write once more- In jocund vein and lighter than We ever could before Top STOP! LOOK!! LOOSEN!!! HARK! HARK! The Deck Poet stutters With fountain pen he spumes and sputters With facile nib and nimble wit He's happy if he makes a hit- (with the ladies). Come loosen belts and let your ribs expand For mirth-provoking Shamus Rabbitt's hand Is busy making rhyming quips anew To please himself if never pleasing you. Top LAZY DAYS O, lazy days they'll always be The first few days we spend at sea- To doze and read and sleep and gaze At those who smile at us these days. 'Neath cloudless skies-or overcast With heavy streaks that scurry past- We sail and watch the sky and sea Where the horizon line should be. With breezes soft and perfume laden As soothing as the breath of maiden- We see the sun perform his best Of miracles and go to rest. The moon with beams to gleam at night Always so intimate a sight- He sends them down a golden street Forever dancing to our feet. We cease to dream and settle down When all hands lose their deadly frowh- A smile or two and lo, behold! Come friendly greedngs-young and old! Top MAN OVERBOARD' Man overboard! Throw him a smile! How happy we'd be When sailing the sea, If lives could he saved by throwing a smile. Man overboard! Throw him a smile! 'Tis somethin- to know Wherever we go That lives may be saved by spending a smile. Top CHIMES O'THE SEA I love The chimes of Normandy- The tolling chimes Of Trinity- St. Paul's sweet chimes Appeal to me- But of All chimes Please God give me Chow chimes Three times Each day At sea. Top TALES O' THE SEA 'Tis strange that all our tales of sea Are of ye olden days- "Before the mast" no more can be But what about our ways? We read that in the days of yore Ye olden Jolly Rogers Amused themselves with blood and gore Of laws were artful dodgers- And too along the China coast Those days the wooden ships Were manned by men of iron who'd boast Of many fearsome trips. Top A WHALE OF A JONAH We never thought that we would be A jonah on a smiling sea- We never thought our lines would shake The sides of all until they'd break- Yes, even boilers in the ship They shook until their tubes did slip The siren laughed until 'twas hoarse And then the captain lost his course- To Yokohama turned our prow And that is where we're going now Unless again from lines like these That we are writiny on the seas Old jonah wakens from his sleep With Neptune in the briny deep And springs on us a happy leak That may delay us for a week- Top OHIO DE GOZAIMASU! IRASHAI! A voyage on the deep blue ocean Leaves few if any on the trip Who haven't got at least a notion Of WHO is WHO upon the ship . Most folk would we Not like to be But then we nearly Always see That those who are So virtuous Are surely modelled After us. Top AS WE SEE OTHERS To while away the time now we Will rhyme the passengers we see- Our list you'll find about the same On every ship with any name. Begins with one whose art at cards Is heard by seamen on the yards- A language shark from Tokyo Will practice "So ka? I don't know!" And then " the sweet and pretty thing Of her in rapture we might sing- Her eyes her lips her sculptured hair And gowns that maketh females stare. And then the happy bride and groom Who spoon upon their honeymoon Until we come to leave the ship- From passports many truths will slip. You know the bird who sings success But when we land is in distress And touches you for just a few- The same old game-what can you do? And then the dear old man in grey Who's in the corner every day And reads his book so meek and mild- He is the great Sir joseph Wild. Somewhat unlike the great big king Who leads the sports and everything- Who puts on side and tries to sing- He travels for the whiskey ring. Our paupers dress e'en to their ears With diamonds look like millionaires And millionaires they go threadbare To get their portion everywhere. You've met old grouch the son of gloom Who'll tell you how there is no room For any ships of any types To fly aloft the Stars and Stripes? Now if it happens that you are Just horn beneath a happy star Beware and give Old Grouch some room Or he'll consign you to your doom. And now we'll dose this rotten verse Before they put us in a hearse- All hail-the worthies-let us cheer Our passengers are not all here! Top OLD CAP SAYS! On windy days When lightly laden With silk and trifles Loved by ladies Our ship takes kindly To the seas- Sails sprightly Blithesome As a maiden- But When she's loaded To the gun'als With iron and steel That men love well She groans and creaks And ploughs the seas A quiver A shiver To rattle like hell. Top THE FAIR PACIFIC Balboa climbed upon a hill One calm and peaceful day- 'Tis said he got a glorious thrill Alone so far away.- Old Bal he had a lot of sight But not enough by day To reach across-so he looked at night And saw a peaceful bay. He called the bay an ocean and With smiles quite beatific- The waters were so blue and calm- He named them fair Pacific. And in the bottle from his hip A sample soon he took And sent it back for Spain to sip And record in a book- Top FATHER NEPTUNE All those who climb the latitudes To cross Equator's line Or East and West on longitudes Must pay Old Neptune's fine. This great good king rules under sea- Takes toll on lines Meridian Though calm or rough the seas may be We meet this great comedian! With mermaiden daughter fair- The queen of all the seas- He sits in state with hempen hair That curls about his knees- And e'en his crown be made of tin His robe of table cloth You'll feel his briny imprint in Your goose-flesh when you're caught. His retinue made up of men The oldest of our crew Strike terror to all mortals when They look them through and through- Saucepans for helmets on their heads For shields the lids of pots And flowing mantles-spreads from beds- Sustained by sailor's knots- For sword each carries a Gillette To pierce the hearts of those Who will of deep sea justice get When Neptune blows his nose. But Neptune cannot work when dry As he lives in the sea- For more and more good wine he'll cry And he must have it free. So on the day we cross the line We make the victims weep As each one pays old Neptune's fine In the Order of the Deep. Top THE WAYSIDE ISLES On every voyage One may take 'Tis well that there Should be a break. So on this broad Pacific basin 'Tis well to stop At some way station. To fill your gas tanks And what is more To see what pranks Are played on shore. So listen friends- What e'er you do We recommend Hon-o-lu-Iu. Top ISLES OF LIQUID SUNSHINE I roam beneath the palm trees Down by the rolling sea Where sweet caressing balm-breeze Comes wafting o'er the lea To trace upon the sand piles With scintillating spray Rare liquid-sunshine-land-smiles In dreamland of the lei. Along the sun-baked reaches Day-dreaming here I roam- Like birds on wave-raped beaches Come surf-boats on the foam Where swimming, native figures, browned Are singing in the sun Soft melodies of plaintive sound With waves in unison. Upon a dusky bronzed maiden I see a string of shells With tropic blossoms perfume laden Tossed on the ocean swells- I barter with the maiden fair Whose smiles of lips and eyes Reflect the sunlight on her hair Outdazzling opal skies- What recompense, my pretty miss, To give this string to me? She answers softly- " But a kiss -" And plunges in the sea. Did I obtain The maiden's treasure- Each iridescent shell-? Indeed, I did! It now gives pleasure- To whom? I'll never tell! Top FAREWELL TO OUR STEAMER It's farewell to our steamer (Her captain-staff-and seamen) A sturdy ship, and proud are we To have such vessels on the sea- As all great voyages must end We're soon to land and homeward wend Our ways to towns both far and near, But first we'll give a rousing cheer. To master mariner and crew Of the best ship we ever knew- Come let us cheer them one and all And thank them for the Captain's ball. Top THE CAPTAIN'S BALL With music and with sayings bright We dined and danced till past midnight, And after that the midnight air Was rent with noise beyond compare, To wildest freaks all were inclined Enough to paralyse the mind! And later too some stayed we think To greet the morning with a drink, But say all those who ought to know They stopped to sing a song or so- All night we heard them strain their necks To serenade us from the decks. Top LAND AHOY! A song of scent As pungent as The salt spray From the sea Came from the throats Of the sailors as We pulled Around the lea- Then downward went The anchor and The chain- It clanked and fell Into the briny depths As bottomless as hell. Top HOME AGAIN Home from Far Eastern shores To bustle smoke and grind- Aromas that here greet us All savor of our kind- The very earth gives welcome- We're soon enveloped in The speeding and the going As well as in the din. We call on Tried and Trusty Our friends of bygone days- They're gone or worse-are married- Have had to mend their ways. And then we sit and listen The CALL it comes again And tells us what we're missing If we at home remain: LISTEN! Top THE LURE OF THE-EAST- O, what is the call That comes to us all When once we have been in the EAST- To lure us away For life and a aay In tropics to rot in the EAST. Away from our fields- Where no harvest yields A fragrance on which we may FEAST- No walks in the woods With trees and their moods No orchards to bloom in the EAST- No strolls by the streams Where tropic sun gleams No skylarks to sing in the EAST- No welcome within A countryside inn Not out in old Asia at LEAST! We roam o'er the lands With sweat on our hands Discomfort for man and for BEAST- The mildew's a fright On boots overnight 'Tis muggy and damp in the EAST- Where roaches eat books And lizards from nooks Will sport on our walls in the EAST- Where snakes and the ants Will sleep in our pants And flies on our food make a FEAST- It rains and it rains Till blocking our drains For sewers we've none in the EAST- A "symphony" of smell No language can tell But yet we return to the EAST- To filth we are blind Benumbed is the mind But still we go back to the EAST- We call in at Cook's And are happy he books To where LOVE is, the love of the EASTI Top GLOSSARY AQUA VITAE - Distilled spirits for the stilled spirits. BOY - The satanic friend, guide, philosopher and wet nurse to foreigners in the Far East. COMPRADORE - A friend of the needy clerk. A cashier plus. An expert money changer who guarantees to keep the proprietor free from loss through bad credit or bad currency-in exchange for a small salary and the privilege of handling the firm's or individual's money to conduct a private loan business-at exorbitant interest. This latter phase of his activities is something which does not concern the proprietor. CHOP CHOP - Makee hurry! CHITS - Personal currency in the form of magic slips of paper which bring more joy than Aladdin's lamp-until the day of judgment when the shroff or bill collector is on hand at the very moment the signer's pay is due. CHIN CHIN - Greetingsl Good fortunel Astonishing luck! DAAIN - Shamus' pet expression-It doesn't mean a damn thing THE EAST - Places East of Suez where the commonplace is strange. Where a man can have a debit before he knows he has it. Where angels are rare and men are glad of it. FILTHY LUCRE - Something no gentleman should touch- FACE - As precious to a man as a maiden's honor to her mother. An intangible attribute of men, families and firms in the Far East - native or foreign - which must be saved at all costs. GRIFFIN - Young horse which is racing its first year-also applied to a young man in his first year out in the East. GUZABOS - Dictionarians are now working on this - Guys who know all about something. GOB - British sailor's equivalent of Limey. HELL - Shamus' pet express number two. HEL-UV-A - Latin-term of endearment. HONG - Place of business of one eligible for admittance to the Club -Where signs are taken in at night. Where an advertisement is called an announcement. Where things can be sold in small quantities only if they are called samples. HONGKONGESE - Descendants of modern Marco Polos. HONGKONG - Hongkong is an island in the Southern China Sea. A colony as British as a British Isle can be. The safest of all havens to be found in seven seas. For ex-official patriots and Chinese refugees. HOTELS - Where West meets East. INNOCENTS - Those who have not been burned by fire before leaving lioine. JOSS - Heaven business, Luck KOWTOW - The Chinese equivalent of " turning the other cheek (No belong today fashion.) LIMEY - American sailor's equivalent of Gob. LASCAR - East Indian native sailor with salamandarine qualities. NUMBER ONE - Topside Boss NABOB - One who mistakes money or rank, for quality. PEAK - Hongkongites heaven P.P.C.'s - Pour prendre conge-to take leave. Cards mailed by ordinary humans but inserted in the local newspaper by the blase bon-ton. PACIFIC, The fair - A damn lie A'RABBITT - "Almost unbelievably, not a pen name." - (Japan Chronicle) SHAMUS - Handle to A'Rabbitt's name SHROFF - Compradore's handy man-collector. SAMPAN - Any small boat in the Far East. SAVVY - Perspicacity SIKHS - Religious policemen SAP - The forgotten man- The meek shall inherit the earth after the aggressive have taken possession of Heaven. (S.A'R.) TAIPAN - Big boss . Number one gink who monopolizes the head of the bar at the club and frowns on young clerks, or " clarks." VOLSTEAD - A misguided American WANCHEE - The first law of nature YANK - Every other American but me- Top PUBLISHER'S NOTE: The success of the " Ballads of the East " by Shamus A'Rabbitt, which I published last year, has called forth the present volume containing additional verses old and new, and in presenting them to the public, I can do no better than to repeat my note which accompanied the Ballads, together with some references by famous journalists. "These sparkling verses by Shamus A'Rabbitt, carry the atmosphere and preserve the legend of the China Coast. This collection is culled from a series that began a decade or more ago in the columns of the South China Morning Post, The China Mail and The Japan Times. They were written for the amusement of the author's friends and for relaxation from his work as government adviser. To the old China Hand, these verses will awaken joyful memories of the gaiety of their care-free days. To the Griffin, they will give a taste of what has gone before. To all who have tasted the joys of life and travel in the East, they will serve as a savory reminder, with the pungent flavor of the Orient." A. R. HAGER, Publisher, Shanghai. I am inclined to hail Shamus as the many sided Franklin of the twentieth century, after seeing how easily he flits from metallurgy to the light fantastic chronicles of the doings of the Chinese 'boys ' and their 'masters ' and 'missies.' The Ballads may also be a study for the future investigator of pidgin English." WILLIAM HENRY CHAMBERLIN, (Chief Correspondent in the Far East, Christian Science Monitor). "The delightful 'Ballads of the East'... we followed one another about the house reading aloud that about the cook who cooked for two families, ' the Minute Man in Shanghai,' and other gems which for the time being make us hungry for the 'love and friendship of the rovers overseas.' We find the selection perfect." Jim HowE, (Formerly AP Correspondent in China and Japan) " I have read the ' Ballads ' at a sitting and chuckled over it. It is easy reading, as some faces are easy to look at. For the rest, may I endorse the last three paragraphs on the back cover. If I were writing a review, I would start by saying that for once I had found a Publisher who spoke true on the cover of his wares." HUGH BYAS, (Tokyo Correspondent London Times, New York Times) "When an engineer takes a fling at writing, his portable is expected to produce a meaty report on the material resources of a country or the whys of a construction job, copiously illustrated with those tabulations and graphs which delight mathematical minds. Rabbitt, an American who has charted and built in the Orient for a lifetime, broke the rule and used verse to picture the daily life of the natives and foreigners to whom the other side of the world is home. His gift for whimsical humor and detached observation catches an atmosphere which only 'an old China Hand' can know. Little incidents of life in these strange places, some dramatic, other humorous but all so different from our ways of living, have been recorded in meter and rhythm while still fresh after the day's work. Many of the verses of the poetic engineer were published by newspapers of the Orient as they were written through the years." Junius B. WOOD, (Formerly World Correspondent, Chicago Daily Mail) I was delighted with the copy of the book of ditties by that distinguished Oriental expert, A'Rabbitt. Although, I am not familiar with what might he called the Treaty Port slang, and had to consult the Glossary, I enjoyed the 'Ballads,' and have frequently rendered some of them in my best Oriental manner to my friends." James H. FURAY, (Vice President United Press) Reviews of the "'Ballads o'the East" "Shamus A'Rabbitt.... a rugged individualist.... His rhyming is ingenious and acceptable.... there are polished brevities aplenty,.... sparkling epigrammatic wit.... neat vignettes of the ports and their types and life. ".... earthy, unpretentious; written by a roamer, for himself and other roamers who demand not anaemic food for the brain but seasoned sustenance for the soul. ".... some fourteen years ago a frequent contributor.... more fortunate than most.... he carries with him ever-fresh these priceless first impressions which, being a poet, he was able to record in entertaining rhyme. ".... They are redolent of the atmosphere.... when China was China.... archaically quaint for the old-timer a gift of the past that he thought he had lost in sprightly jingling phrases and a lucky red cover." JABERT, in South China Morning Post. Ten to fifteen years ago our readers were delighted bv the versifying of a young American who wrote under a pseudonym... concealing the identity of Mr. Shamus A'Rabbitt. "Pleasing, forcible and highly individual, the poems... had a unique appeal in their subtle conveyance of the glamour and atmosphere of the Orient. ".... his poetic efforts have a leisurely humour and mellow wisdom that makes them valuable, while Sapajou has put them into an environment that imparts a distinctly new relish." W. J. K. in The China Mil. ....An amusing volume from the pen of Shamus A'Rabbitt .... The author.... has a keen understanding of the Oriental scene and is a talented writer of verse.... The majority of the subjects will he found of real interest to all readers of English who live in the East and should he even more so to Old China Hands who have departed after long residence here, as the perusal of but a few lines will recall all the glamour and color for which the Orient is so well known." A. 0. B. in The China Press. "Illustrated by Sapajou, Shamus A'Rabbitt's already much appreciated light verse has here been collected in an attractive volume for those who would like to show their friends at home that despite present troubles people in China can still look on the funny side of life. Mr. A'Rabbitt knows his East and also his club bar-and Sapajou manfully assists him in his exposition." E. H. in The North China Daily News. Mr. A'Rabbitt.... is generally regarded as an engineer or scientist. But in fact he is more than all that. He is a wide traveller to begin with, a philosopher, a humorist.... His ballads are full of wisdom and humor." Japan Times & Mail. Mr. A'Rabbitt-almost unbelievably this is not a Pen-name - has an impish sense of humour." Japan Chronicle. An engineer and a chemist, Mr. A'Rabbitt has lived in China and Japan for over three decades and his writing shows that he has viewed the varied Oriental scene as a philosopher and something of a critic. ".... the ballads now make their bow in collected form, and much will be the delight of those who read them. They are redolent of the atmosphe