48 THE FOGY DAYS AND NOW; 



Walked in the paths our fathers trod, 

 In suppHance bent the humble knee, 



Took our dinners to the meeting house. 

 And was so glad each other to see. 



In those frugal days our wants were few, 

 The only fashion was to be neat, 



Didn't care much for outside show. 

 But sure have something good to eat. 



Better days than now, it seems to us, 

 Although didn't know near so much. 



And some things are glad we didn't know ; 

 Indeed, would have been ashamed to touch. 



Before the day of the patent pill, 

 Days of the lancet, the calomel. 



Doctors didn't try to size your pile, 

 But worked harder to get you well. 



And justice was better meeted out, 

 Tho' the lawyers were not so plenty. 



And neighbors were less at logger-heads, 

 Not so many suits, not one to twenty. 



Our preachers then were humbler, too. 

 Like Paul, labored for their living. 



Preached because they loved the Lord, 

 Wan't so rantankerous 'bout giving. 



At church they sang most sacred songs. 



To the old time fogy meter, 

 And these old songs didn't make you feel 



As in a circus or theater. 



Sang hymns to the old familiar tunes, 

 Were sacred in all their bearings, 



Could not mistake it for caterwaul. 

 For naughty felines on a tearing. 



