Here’s to the hen upon the nest, That keeps the table, fills the guest, Builds up the system, ne’er regrets And brings results whene’er she sets. * * * * * The Dear Old Hod. When I’ve labored hard all day, And the supper’s cleared away, There’s a joy before I nod, When I load my dear old hod. As the smoke curls in the air, Chasing from me life’s dull care, I can lean far back and think, And put the worry on the blink. Here’s to thee, Missouri cob, Many years upon the job, Your’s a mission not all bad, If you ease the load on dad. * * * * * Dear Old Kate. I know I stayed a little late, The last time that I courted Kate, I had a speech I wished to try, And how the hours hurried by. The question that I wished to pop, Would never let me have the flop, My cheeks would burn, my throat get dry, I was nearly hot enough to fry. I guess I tried a dozen times, I drilled myself in all the lines, But when I reached the vital point, The whole blame works got out of joint. It made me mad and also sad, I felt like going to the bad, I’d practised long, out in the trees, Just how to face her on my knees. I’d hold the bough as Katie’s hand, And with the best at my command, I’d bare my soul with pleading tears, For her to join me all the years. I guess I never would have won, If Katie hadn’t just for fun Heard my appeal with silent feet, And said, “Why, sure, you dear old sweet.” * * * * * Tim. Once I knew a man named Tim, Thought a mighty lot of him, For his goodness, heart and mind, Were of such a loving kind. Never heard him boast or tell, Of the things he’d done so well: Lips would kinda set with tension, If his past you’d slightly mention. Kinda made his face look sad, Maybe some great grief he’d had, But he’d pass it off and say, Kinda looks like rain today.