But at this time the Methodists have special claims on me, For they're goin' to give a picnic on the 21st, D. V.; Why should a liberal Universalist like me object To share the joys of fellowship with every friendly sect? However het'rodox their articles of faith elsewise may be, Their doctrine of fried chick'n is a savin' grace to me! So on the 21st of June, the weather bein' fine, They're goin' to give a picnic, and I'm goin' to jine! THE ROMANCE OF A WATCH. One day his father said to John: "Come here and see what I hev bought--- A Waterbury watch, my son-- It is the boon you long hev sought!" The boy could scarcely believe his eyes-- The watch was shiny, smooth an' slick-- He snatched the nickel-plated prize An' wound away to hear it tick. He wound an' wound, an' wound an' wound, An' kept a windin' fit to kill-- The weeks an' months an' years rolled round, But John he kep' a windin', still! As autumns came an' winters went An' summers follered arter spring, John didn't mind--he was intent On windin' up that darned ol' thing. He got to be a poor ol' man-- He's bald an' deaf an' blind an' lame, But, like he did when he began, He keeps on windin', jest the same! OUR BABY. 'Tis very strange, but quite as true, That when our Baby smiles Our club gets walloped black and blue In all the latest styles; But when our Baby's hopping mad It's quite the other way-- Chicago beats the Yankees bad When Baby doesn't play. When baby stands upon his base, Just after having kicked, Upon his Scandinavian face Appears the legend, "Licked"; But when he orders out a sub, We well may hip-hooray-- Chicago has the winning club When Baby doesn't play. But, if our Baby's getting old, And stiff, and cross, and vain, And if his days are nearly told, Oh, let us not complain. Let's rather think of what he was And how he's made it pay To hire the kids that win because Our Baby doesn't play. THE COLOR THAT SUITS ME BEST. Any color--so long as it's red-- Is the color that suits me best, Though I will allow there is much to be said For yellow and green and the rest; But the feeble tints, which some affect In the things they make or buy, Have never (I say it with all respect) Appealed to my critical eye. There's that in red that warmeth the blood And quickeneth a man within, And bringeth to speedy and perfect bud The germs of original sin; So, though I am properly born and bred, I'll own, with a certain zest, That any color--so long as it's red-- Is the color that suits me best!