“THE DECEMBER BRIDE, OR OLD ROBIN”
Charles B. Rennit, Boston, N.H.—The whole poem wanted by “H.J.O.” is as follows, and appeared in Hostetter’s Annual in 1843.
1
“‘Twas in the bleak December that I took her for my bride;
How well do I remember how she fluttered by my side;
My Nellie dear, it was not long before you up and died,
And they buried her at eight-thirty in the morning.
2
“Oh, do not tell me of the charms of maidens far and near,
Their charming ways and manners I do not care to hear,
For Lucy dear was to me so very, very dear,
And they buried her at eight-thirty in the morning.
3
“Then it’s merrily, merrily, merrily, whoa!
To the old gray church they come and go,
Some to be married and some to be buried,
And old Robin has gone for the mail.”
“THE OLD KING’S JOKE”
F.J. BRUFF, Hammick, Conn.—In a recent issue of your paper, Lillian F. Grothman asked for the remainder of a poem which began: “The King of Sweden made a joke, ha, ha!”
I can furnish all of this poem, having written it myself, for which I was expelled from St. Domino’s School in 1895. If Miss Grothman will meet me in the green room at the Biltmore for tea on Wednesday next at 4:30, she will be supplied with the missing words.
XL—”DARKWATER”
We have so many, many problems in America. Books are constantly being written offering solutions for them, but still they persist.
There are volumes on auction bridge, family budgets and mind-training. A great many people have ideas on what should be done to relieve the country of certain undesirable persons who have displayed a lack of sympathy with American institutions. (As if American institutions needed sympathy!) And some of the more generous-minded among us are writing books showing our duty to the struggling young nationalities of Europe. It is bewildering to be confronted by all these problems, each demanding intelligent solution.
Little wonder, then, that we have no time for writing books on the one problem which is exclusively our own. With so many wrongs in the world to be righted, who can blame us for overlooking the one tragic wrong which lies at our door? With so many heathen to whom the word of God must be brought and so many wild revolutionists in whom must be instilled a respect for law and order, is it strange that we should ourselves sometimes lump the word of God and the principles of law and order together under the head of “sentimentality” and shrug our shoulders? Justice in the abstract is our aim—any American will tell you that—so why haggle over details and insist on justice for the negro?
