Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 August 1900 — VAGRANT VERSE. [ARTICLE]

VAGRANT VERSE.

Maude and the Judge. The ex-Judge sat in his rustic chair. Dreaming of clays when prospects were fair. When he was a clerk in a grocery store, Reading law at night for an hour or more. Then politics gave him a playful nudge And set him up on the bench as-a judge. * While on his vacation one summer’s day lie met Maud Muller at work in the hay. Now. Maud was as shy as a turtle dove, So the Judge fell heels over head in love. “Maude, dear” said he, “for pity's sake Come, be my bride, and give up that rake." But Maudie answered and said: “Oh, no; The chap for me is the man with the hoe." Pulling off his coat, the Judge said: “See, For your sake, Maude, I’ll a farmer be.” So the love-sick Judge gave up his job And became a granger—alas! poor slob! They married and bought a farm on time And settled down to a life sublime. Eor eighteen hours they toiled each day. Trying the mortgage on the farm to pay. This happened some forty-odd years ago, Bui still the ex-Judge wields the hoe. He is getting stiff in elbow and knee, For he isn’t as yonng as he used to be. But he often dreams of what might have been, For the mortgage is bigger now then. —Chicago News. Keep a Steppin* to De Band. If yo’ want to make connection in a heabenly direction When yo' hea’ de halleluyah trumpet sound, Yo’hab got to keep a walkin', keep yo'fee fo’eber knockin', Got to keep 'em pattin' juba on the ground. Ifyo’ laigs day git a achin’ an’yo'knees dey git a shakin' An’ you' craw's a runnin’ mighty short ob sand. ' An' yo’ eyes dey git a leakin,' doan yo' nevah, nevah weaken— a steppin' to de music ob the band. Poom-pah poom-pah poom-pah poom-pah. Listen to the ol’ bass ho'n, It’s a gwine to be a tootin’ When de planets am a shootin' An' a bustin' on de resurrection mo'n. It’s a tellin’ yo' to hurry An' to nevah, nevah worry Marchin’ upwa’d to de happy promis’land. But yo' got to keep a goin,’ Keep a heelin’ and a toein’ To be music ob de halleluyah band. When de resurrection thundeh splits creation all asundeh. An' de lightnin" am a tiashin' in de sky, When de watahs ob de ocean git into a wild commotion. An’ de buzzards to de wildernesses fly. Ask de bressed Lawd to guide you. to' to come an’ march beside yo'. Fo’ to hurry down en' take yo’ by de hand: Doan you nevah. nevah falteh, keep a dingin' to de altah. An' a steppin' to the music ob the band. Poom-pah poom-pah poom-pah poom-pah, Lissen to de ol' bass ho'n, It's a gwine to be a tootin' When’de planets am a shootin' An' a bustin'on de resurrection mo’n, It’s a tellin' yo’ to hurry An' to nevah. nevah worry Marchin' upwa'd to de happy promis* land, Butyo' got to keep a goin,’ Keep a heelin' an' a toein’. To de music ob de halleluyah band. —Denver Post.

The Ax-Grinding Industry. Nowadays i» very di (Trent from the dear eld lona ago! Modern fol'<t (there s some exceptions) seems more selfish-tike, you know! If a feller does a kindness, bv an’ by you’re sure to find That he went to work an' done it' cause he had an ax to grind. ’Cause he had an ax to grind! Always putty sure to find That the chap that does the favor Has a dull old ax to grind! Has a rusty ax to grind! When a chap is overkind You can bet your bottom dollar Somethin's cornin'right behind. Deacon drops in unexpected, shakes you cordial. both his bands! Wants a dollar fer the heathen out on Infix's coral strands! Wouldn’t thought of cornin' near you. wouldn't had you in his mind If he hadn't recollected that he had an ax to grind. To your wife comes Mrs. Boggles with the latest magazine; 1 hen she wants your wife to lend her that there silver soup tureen. Wife of yours could wish fer readln' till she went an' lost her mind. Mrs. Boggles wouldn't brought it till she had an ax to grind. Neighbor meets you on the turnpike, gives a cheap clga-, an' aay! Minute after wants to borry your new buggy fer a day. That cigar he'd smoked th ashes with some others of its kind. If your neighbor hadn’t Jiggered that hehad an ax to grind. So it goes with lots of people, an' will always go. I guess! Folks is ' grindin'" ail around you. more'n they all dost confe-s ’ Always glad an' always willin' fer to bear you in their mind. Savin'up against the moment when they'll have an ax to grind. —Baltimore American.