St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-01-06
IN LIGHTER VEIN.

been immensely satisfactory to the pub
lie in general, and especially to those
new arrivals in Minnesota who have
never had an experience that cannot
be surpassed by the Oldest inhabi-
like it colder. The coal dealer
signs for the cold wave signal, and the
wood merchants would like return of
the good old winter, but the average
citizen parades Nicollet avenue in
spring clothes, and is happy. The man
who laid in his winter supplies and who
has worn out his fall suit is alone IN
happy.
I'm weary of tennis, of boating, of sports;
I've laid in my coal and my wood;
I've spouted my blazer, my racquet, my, all;
I'm ready for pink tea, reception and ball,
My wife has her seal, but has never cloak,
And must stay in the house till it's cold.
Or appear on the street with a coat of last
Which on my finances discredit would
And her own social standing, I'm told.
So what shall do if this spring weather
When am for winter prepared?
Shall go to Mendoza or to the north pole?
Or shall. / go quietly stay in my hole,
Till the ice palace openings 3 E declareds
The good wife Of many a member of
the legislature wonders why her hus-
band should be called to st. Paul so
long and so often before the body form
ally assemblies. She, poor soul, does
not understand the process of incubat-
ing laws and making senators, to say
nothing of developing speakers and Sc
lecting clerks and sergeants-at-armS.
So she pines and gr0wls.
I've letter from thy sire,
Baby mine, baby mine;
And I'm Just as mad as fire,
Baby mine, baby mine;
He is working OF his jaws,
At the Merchants making laws.
If had him in my claws,
Baby mine, baby mine.
He would not be worth two straws,
Baby mine.
He's played Warwick long enough,
Baby mine, baby mine;
For he isn't up to snuff,
Baby mine, baby mine;
Meier senator he'll make,
He has not cent at stake,
Not dollar in he'll rake,
Baby mine. baby mine;
Meantime we're out of steak.
Baby mine.
There may be some amusement at the
city hall on Monday and there m ay be a
dense quiet. The impression, despite
the nervousness in certain Republican
quarters, seems to be that the old c0un-
Gil will drop out and die. No. hardly to
die. That council will live through the
ages. Even after the building is gone
its memory will exist.
Long, long will our annals be fragrantly
filled
With the efforts they made ere that council
was killed;
You may smash and remodel the hall as you
will,
But the smell of that council will hang
round it still.
While nobody can take it more
quietly, or stand it more philosophic-
ally, Freeman P. Lane. the youthful
veteran of many a political ARRAY, is
getting a great deal of otoriety of late.
His name occupies a prominent posi-
ton in every newspaper column de-
voted to the senatorial canvass. On one
side he is patted and applauded, and on
his stand in the fight. But Lane can
take care of himself, whether it is in
engineering caucus, running a Sum
day school, burglariZing John Pott or
making a senator.
In days of old, when nights were cold,
And zero held its sway.
Our Freeman bold, with gall untold.
Sang merrily his lay-hay-hay,
Sang merrily his lay
''AIy man for senatalre,
Is certain to get there,
Although I'm bold,
IT'S well, I'm told,
To always have a care.
So I'll be bold, and as I'm told,
I'll have care.h
But Underwood, tough, took up the bluff,
And let an awful roar,
Put up his stuff and ne'er cried huff,
But said he wanted more, roar, ore
Said he wanted more.
Ten thousand bills
He f1ourished round,
And Freeman F., oh, where was he
Go hunt the wales, the hills,
And dig into the ground.
In a hole you'll find,
Filled up behind,
The last Of Freeman P.