Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 April 1918 — Page 2 Advertisements Column 2 [ADVERTISEMENT]

LET HIM LIVE As long as the flowers their perfume give, So long I’d let the kaiser live — Live and live for a million years, With nothing to drink but Belgian tears. With nothing to quench his awful thirst But the salted brine of the Scotchman’s curse. ; - I would let him live on a dinner each day, > — Served with silver on a golden tray— ' Served with things both dainty and sweet— Served with everything but things to eat. ' _ ■ And I’d make him a bed of silken sheen,* With costly linens to lie between, With covern of down and filets of lace, And downy pillows piled in place; Yet when to its comforts he would yield. It should stink with the rot of the battlefield, And blood and bones and brains of Inen Should cover him, smother him—-and then His pillows should cling with the rotten cloy— Cloy from the grave of a soldier boy. And while God’s stars their vigil keep, And while the waves the white sands sweep, He should never, never, never sleep. And through all the days, and through all the years, There should be an anthem in his ears, Ringing and singing and never done From the edge of light to the set of sun, Moaning and moaning and mWning wild— A ravaged French girl's bastard child. And I would build a castle by the sea, As lovely a castle as ever could be; Then I'd show him a ship from over the sea, As fine a ship as ever could be, Laden with water and cold and sweet, Laden with everything good to eat; Yet scarce does she touch the silvered sands, Scarce may she reach his eager hands, Than a hot and hellish molten shell Should change his heaven into hell, And though he’d watch on the wave-swept shore, Our Lusitania would rise no more! In “No Man's Land” where the Irish fell, I’d start the kaiser a private hell; I’d jab him, stab him, give him gas; In every wound I’d pour ground glass; ,I’d inarch him out where the brave boys died— Out past the lads they crucified. In the fearful gloom of his living tomb. There is #ne thing I’d do before I was through; I’d make him sing, in a stirring manner. The'wonderful words of the “Star Spangled Banner.’’ —Van Amburgh, in The Silent Partner.