red in the grass
At fairs, to see some heavy-draft
Lead out at _first_, yit come in _last_!

Each hoss has his appinted place,--
The heavy hoss should plow the soil;--
The blooded racer, he must race,
And win big wages fer his toil.

I never bet--ner never wrought
Upon my feller-man to bet--
And yit, at times, I've often thought
Of my convictions with regret.

I bless the hoss from hoof to head--
From head to hoof, and tale to mane!--
I bless the hoss, as I have said,
From head to hoof, and back again!

I love my God the first of all,
Then Him that perished on the cross,
And next, my wife,--and then I fall
Down on my knees and love the hoss.

WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE

BY S. E. KISER

He looked at my tongue and he shook his head--
This was Doctor Smart--
He thumped on my chest, and then he said:
"Ah, there it is! Your heart!
You mustn't run--you mustn't hurry!
You mustn't work--you mustn't worry!
Just sit down and take it cool;
You may live for years, I can not say;
But, in the meantime, make it a rule
To take this medicine twice a day!"

He looked at my tongue, and he shook his head--
This was Doctor Wise--
"Your liver's a total wreck," he said,
"You must take more exercise!
You mustn't eat sweets.
You mustn't eat meats,
You must walk and leap, you must also run;
You mustn't sit down in the dull old way;
Get out with the boys and have some fun--
And take three doses of this a day!"

He looked at my tongue, and he shook his head--
This was Doctor Bright--
"I'm afraid your lungs are gone," he said,
"And your kidney isn't right.
A change of scene is what you need,
Your case is desperate, indeed,
And bread is a thing you mustn't eat--
Too much starch--but, by the way,
You must henceforth live on only meat--
And take six doses of this a day!"

Perhaps they were right, and perhaps they knew,
It isn't for me to say;
Mayhap I erred when I madly threw
Their bitter stuff away;
But I'm living yet and I'm on my feet,
And grass isn't all I dare to eat,
And I walk and I run and I worry, too,
But, to save my life, I can not see
What some of the able doctors would do
If there were no fools like you and me.

THE BOAT THAT AIN'T[4]

BY WALLACE IRWIN

A stout, fat boat for gailin'
And a long, slim boat