The Washington herald., 1916-08-27

they would gladly live over again.
He says:
Fer never taste a melon but my thoughts file,
away
To the summertime Of youth. and again zee
the dawn.
And the fadin' afternoon Of the long summ.,
day.
And the dusk and dew ,-fallin' and the nigh,
s-COmin
And there's the corn around US and the Hsrn,
leaves and trees
And the stars peedn' down on US as still a.
silver mice
And US boys in tho watermelons on our hands and
knees,
And the new moon hanSin' ore us like a yellow
cored slice.
Oh. It's watermelon time is s-cornin' round .xsin
And they amt man alvin tickeder'n M.
For the way banker after waternelons is a sin
Which is the why and wharefore. as you can
plainly
Those of US whose youthful ewes
were familiar with the fields of corn
and pumpkins must confess that these
eyes now sometimes grow red when
we read:
When the frost is on the pumpkin and the fodder,'
in the shock
And you hear the kyoHck and gobbe of the struttin
turkey cock,
And the clsckin Of the guineys and the cuckin' Of
the hens
And the ROSTERS bally longer he tip-toes on the
fence;
o, it's then's the times . feler ia feeIIn. =. III,
best ~ ~
With risin' sun to greet him from night Of
peaceful rest -
As he leaves the house bare-headed and go.. o,,+
to feed the stock
When the frost is the pumpkin and the fodder,
in the shock.
There's something kinda hearty-Ike about the at
When the heat of summers over and the coolin'
fall is here.
OF course We miss the howes and the blossoms on
the trees "
And the rumble Of the hummin' bird, and tho 49,
Zn Of the bees;
But the airs so appetizn' and the lspdscana
through the haze
OF crisp and sunny morning of the .irIv .r...
Is pictur' that no painter has the colorn' 70
mock '"
When the frost is on the pumpkin and the folders
In the shock.
The poet probably wrote notbi,,
that touches our hearts and takes us
back to country scenes and the han.
py, carefree days of our Childhood
more than THE Old Swimmin' HoIe "
But the merry days of youth is beyond our coDt,o,
And it's bard to part forever with the old swim
min hole "AAN
Oh! the old swimmin' hole! In the haprv dsv, .,
yCre, "
When used to learn above it on IN. s,c,r,o-.
Oh. 1t showed me face in its warm sunny ia.
That gazed back at me 50 gay and slorifpd
1t made me love myself as l leaped 10 carass
My shadder smilin' up at me with such tsndar,,.
But them days is past and gone and old TnsS:
tack his toll Nie
From the old man come back to the old srinr,ir, ;,
hole. iin
God pity the man whose r,sr,r,,
does not take him back to the "o1d
swimmin' hole" 1 do not know boI,,
he has managed to live all these vesrs
in the hot and dusty struggle and
competition of life without coolin .
himself off now and then in the recoI9
lection. at least, of the "old swimnoin,
hole" III
James Whitcomb Riley has b,essos
the world with striking picture of
childhood's home. He saws.
We must get home-for we have been s
So long 1t seems forever and A davi
And so very homesicS We have grown Il
The laughter OF the world Is like moan
In our tired hearing. and its songs as vain
We must get home-we must get home againI
We must get home; and, unremember,ng tbsr.
All gain Of all ambitions otherwhere
Rest-from the leverish victory and the .-o,r,
Of conquest whose waste glory weighs ps a..
Fame's fairest gifts toss back with JiAajn'
we must get home-we must get home sSainI
Such words not only make us tbink hu.
prompt Us to visit the home Of our child-