THE "WORKIN' SONG" OF OLD JOHN PAUL.

Down by the church lived old John Paul,

He tunked with his hammer and he jabbed with his awl,

He rapped and he tapped on his worn lapstone,
And ever he trolled, with a lusty tone.

“Oh, high, diddy-di, for Sal'sb'ry Sal!

Plump was she, an' a right smart gal.
Swing to the center an' caper down the hall,
High, diddy-di,"" sang old John Paul.

In the nearby church preached Pastor Jones,
A grim old saint of skin and bones.
At the week-night meetings his flock would hear
Old John Paul's song ring loud and clear.

"Oh, high, diddy-di, come rosum your bow,
An' Sal'sb'ry Sal now shake your toe.
A ladies' chain an' a balance all,
High, diddy-di,"" trolled old John Paul.

The pastor stepped to the cobbler's shop;
Said he, "These ribald songs must stop!
They laugh and they nudge on Satan's Row
To hear you bellow and bluster so.

264 WORKING SONG OF OLD JOHN PAUL

With 'High, diddy-di,' and your vulgar strain
Anent some female, coarse and vain.

Sing some good hymn, if you sing at all,"
"I don't know a hymn," said old John Paul.

The pastor forthwith taught him one,

In adagio measure did it run,

The beat moved slow-as a good hymn should—
And John Paul sang it as best he could.

But 'twas "tum" and "tum" and the pegs went
slow;

For he timed his work by his songs, you know.
'Twas slow for the hammer, and slow for the awl,
And customers railed at old John Paul.

To the pastor John Paul spoke, next day: "I'll grant that souls are saved your way; But mendin' soles is another thing,

An' I can't get a hustle unless I sing:

"Oh, high, diddy-di, there, tiptoe spry!
An' Sal'sb'ry Sal goes prancin' by.'
Work when ye work with snap an' sprawl,
'High, diddy-di,"" said old John Paul.

Then here's to the man who, all day long,
Works with a will to a right smart song!
For a hymn sometimes may be better sung
By willing hands than a laggard tongue.

God has set us our tasks to do;

Worship rings truer when work is through.
Then it's hey for our labor, and a quickstep all
To the “High, diddy-di” of old John Paul.

-HOLMAN F. DAY.

IN THE MORNING OF LIFE.

Oh, youth of the rising dawn of work,
Be glad that to-day you have met it;
The world is full of the possible,
But you've got to reach to get it.

Let

your soul be filled with the morning air,
Turn your head and your hand loose in it;
The world is full of the possible,

But you've got to fight to win it.

Stand fast on the faith in your own true self,
All effort is yours to choose it;

The world is full of the possible,

For you to gain or to lose it.

Oh, youth of the rising dawn of work,

The evening will be what you make it;

The world is full of the possible,

And it's "up to you" to take it.

-WILLIAM J. LAMPTON.

A PROBLEM.

Have you ever watched a fellow, when he's working by the day

How his slow feet move more slowly when the boss has

gone away,

How hard he tries to save his hands by using up his

brains,

How the shady spots seem always to be needing special

pains,

How resting spells come often, and how long he eats

at noon,

How late he gets to working, though he always quits too soon?

Just watch the next one, and you'll find
There's truth in what I say,

For he's working by the day-day-day-
He's working-by-the-day!

Have you ever watched a fellow, when he's working by the job

How his violent gyrations fairly make your pulses throb, How he never stops to whistle and he never stops to

sing,

And, no matter how the boys call, he doesn't hear a

thing;

How he gives the "lick and promise" to the work he's set to do,

And you think he's scarcely started till, behold! the fellow's through?