 | Songs of two centuries |  |
31
ANCESTORS.
We went to the Fourth of July—
Marjorie—she an' I—
Where drums was beaten, an' chickens eaten,
An' banners floated high;
An' though I hoped she would some time love me,
Still I felt that she felt above me;
(I was awkward, an' hung my head,
An' she was a reg'lar thoroughbred.)
Marjorie—she an' I—
Where drums was beaten, an' chickens eaten,
An' banners floated high;
An' though I hoped she would some time love me,
Still I felt that she felt above me;
(I was awkward, an' hung my head,
An' she was a reg'lar thoroughbred.)
Marjorie, by the by,
Had more ancestors than I;
She had a knack of goin' back
Along in History's covered track,
An' pickin' her great-grandfathers out,
An' stan'in' 'em up to be bragged about.
She had a book of 'em, all in rows,
Some several thousan', I suppose;
One was a colonel, an' one a squire,
An' one was a king, or somethin' higher;
There were three brothers on fortune-hunts,
That all come over the sea at once;
An' some of 'em, by the by,
Helped make the Fourth of July;
But though their acts she couldn't condemn,
She hadn't much time to dwell on them,
But sailed her gallant ancestral bark
Almost in hailin' of Noahs ark!
An' I—poor I—
Hadn't nothin' much to reply,
Excep' that gran'father had fine ways,
An' played the bugle on trainin' days.
Had more ancestors than I;
She had a knack of goin' back
Along in History's covered track,
An' pickin' her great-grandfathers out,
An' stan'in' 'em up to be bragged about.
She had a book of 'em, all in rows,
Some several thousan', I suppose;
One was a colonel, an' one a squire,
An' one was a king, or somethin' higher;
There were three brothers on fortune-hunts,
That all come over the sea at once;
An' some of 'em, by the by,
Helped make the Fourth of July;
But though their acts she couldn't condemn,
She hadn't much time to dwell on them,
But sailed her gallant ancestral bark
Almost in hailin' of Noahs ark!
An' I—poor I—
32
Excep' that gran'father had fine ways,
An' played the bugle on trainin' days.
Marjorie, han'some an' high
(I loved her, by the by),
Enjoyed the day in a sight-seein' way,
An' so, for a time did I.
But we found, on the picnic ground,
A chap from some other village we knew,
An' he had a pedigree-weakness, too;
They learned, that a thousan' years ago,
They was relations, or nearly so;
An', standin' there by a maple tree,
Talkin' about their pedigree,
They went a-wanderin', hand in hand,
(Speakin' in figures) by sea an' land;
An' I hadn't much to say that was fine,
Excep' that a great-great-uncle of mine
Was (in the Methodist Church, you know,)
Presidin' elder, some years ago.
(I loved her, by the by),
Enjoyed the day in a sight-seein' way,
An' so, for a time did I.
But we found, on the picnic ground,
A chap from some other village we knew,
An' he had a pedigree-weakness, too;
They learned, that a thousan' years ago,
They was relations, or nearly so;
An', standin' there by a maple tree,
Talkin' about their pedigree,
They went a-wanderin', hand in hand,
(Speakin' in figures) by sea an' land;
An' I hadn't much to say that was fine,
Excep' that a great-great-uncle of mine
Was (in the Methodist Church, you know,)
Presidin' elder, some years ago.
So feelin' sort of alone, you see,
An' terrible short of pedigree,
But never carin' to mope around
If any cheerfulness could be found,
I visited gaily, with smiles to spare,
The secon'-prettiest maiden there.
An' she, though cozy an' sweet an' fine,
Didn't hang on any ancestral line,
An' had no forebears to be thankful for,
Exceptin' one in the Blackhawk war.
There on the Fourth of July,
This secon'-best girl an' I,
We was a-talkin', gay's could be,
When Marjorie come right up to me,
With manners that caused me some surprise,
An' shadows of tears in her great black eyes;
An' “will you kindly go with me,
And help me find my mother?” said she.
An' off we went—the finest of girls,
Bearin' the blood of a dozen earls,
An' I with none, as one might say,
Exceptin' what I had brought that day.
We left the young man by the tree,
Standin' alone with his pedigree;
While the gal I'd talked to, again began
A-makin' eyes at her best young man.
An' terrible short of pedigree,
But never carin' to mope around
If any cheerfulness could be found,
I visited gaily, with smiles to spare,
The secon'-prettiest maiden there.
An' she, though cozy an' sweet an' fine,
Didn't hang on any ancestral line,
An' had no forebears to be thankful for,
Exceptin' one in the Blackhawk war.
There on the Fourth of July,
This secon'-best girl an' I,
We was a-talkin', gay's could be,
When Marjorie come right up to me,
With manners that caused me some surprise,
An' shadows of tears in her great black eyes;
An' “will you kindly go with me,
And help me find my mother?” said she.
33
Bearin' the blood of a dozen earls,
An' I with none, as one might say,
Exceptin' what I had brought that day.
We left the young man by the tree,
Standin' alone with his pedigree;
While the gal I'd talked to, again began
A-makin' eyes at her best young man.
Marjorie drew a sigh,
There on the Fourth of July,
An' made no bother to find her mother,
Her mother, proud an' high,
An' always a-hangin' nigh;
But walked an' walked an' hung her head,
An' “Why are you hateful to me?” she said:
“I couldn't be hateful”, says I,
“To one that I've loved five years or more,
An' never dared to tell it before,
Because she was born in the lap of fame,
An' I hadn't an ancestor to my name.”
She walked a little closer to me:
“I've got enough for us both”, says she:
An' looked as if she would cry,
There on the Fourth of July.
There on the Fourth of July,
An' made no bother to find her mother,
Her mother, proud an' high,
An' always a-hangin' nigh;
But walked an' walked an' hung her head,
An' “Why are you hateful to me?” she said:
“I couldn't be hateful”, says I,
“To one that I've loved five years or more,
An' never dared to tell it before,
Because she was born in the lap of fame,
An' I hadn't an ancestor to my name.”
She walked a little closer to me:
“I've got enough for us both”, says she:
An' looked as if she would cry,
There on the Fourth of July.
| Songs of two centuries | |