32 



HARDWOOD RECORD 



Vert, Pertinent and Impertinent 



You remember the error you made that day 

 When you tried to be smart in a fool-boy way? 

 You blush like a flame as your thoughts recall 

 The donkey you made of yourself, and all 

 The ridicule heaped on your silly head. 

 But be mindful of this — it will ease your dread : 

 Nobody thought of it much, hut you. 

 Other folk turned to the next thing new. 

 Each who observed you had done as bad 

 Once in his lite, at the least, my lad. 

 Every heart holds its own sprig of rue — 

 Nobody thinks of you much, but you. 

 You remember the triumph you had one day 



What Others Think 



When your rivals went down in a friendly fray. 



You remember the cheers from a hundred 

 throats — 



They were sweeter to you than a song-bird's 

 notes. 



You were proud of yourself, and you tremble still 



As you think once again of that one-time thrill. 

 Nobody thought of it much, but you ; 

 Swiftly all sought a sensation new. 

 Lightly they Joined in the cheap applause. 

 Treasured their joy but forgot its cause. 

 All of the rest have had triumphs, too — 

 Nobody thought of you much, but you. 



It's a lonesome old world in a way, my boy ; 



For none other drinks deep of your grief or joy. 



Be your cup sweet or bitter, you quaff alone ; 



Nobody remembers your laugh or moan. 



Your wail or your song is a common thing 



That accords with the rest as they sigh or sing. 

 Nobody thinks of you much, but you. 

 Isn't that just as it should be, too? 

 Earth's but a speck in the boundless skies — 

 Measure your girth with old earth, in size ! 

 Isn't it, then, just about your due, 

 That no one should think of you much, but 

 you? 



Hardwood Sates Managers Conference 



May the ship make port all right. 



St. Valentine 

 What ho ! St. Valentine. What ho ! 



New sorrows you foresee. 

 The s\iirragetles a-marching go 

 With angry placards in a row ! 



This is no place for thee. 



The housewives with suspicion sea 



The bills that butchers send. 

 The wages of the average man 

 Don't fit a matrimonial plan 

 When prices upward trend. 



The arguments grow so intense 

 That courtship's charms are few 



'Mid speech on suffrage and expense. 

 Go hence, St. Valentine, go hence ! 

 This is no place for you ! 



Not for Him 



With a Proviso 



"Ma, may I wear a hobble skirt? " 

 "Yes, yes, you little mouse ; 



Go have one made, and put it on. 



But — don't — you — leave — this — house !" 



Figg — "Don't you wish you could live your 

 life over again?" 



Fogg — "Well, I should say not. I've got a 

 twenty-year endowment policy maturing this 

 month." — Boston Evening Transcript. 



The average man doesn't think be is better 

 than other men ; he merely thinks they are 

 worse than he Is. 



A Valentine Sequel 



The sad career is now rehearsed 



Of yonder youth with wrinkled brow. 



He paid her compliments at first. 

 He owes her alimony now. 



Have you put your New Year's resolutions In 

 cold storage yet ? 



