nd the speech is fair.
And the boy is learning the ways of men
From the finest man in his youthful ken.
Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare
With the gentle father who's with him there.
And the greatest mind of the human race
Not for one minute could take his place.

Which is happier, man or boy?
The soul of the father is steeped in joy,
For he's finding out, to his heart's delight,
That his son is fit for the future fight.
He is learning the glorious depths of him,
And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim;
And he shall discover, when night comes on,
How close he has grown to his little son.

[Illustration: _"A Boy And His Dad"_

_From a painting by_ M. L. BOWER.]

A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip--
Builders of life's companionship!
Oh, I envy them, as I see them there
Under the sky in the open air,
For out of the old, old long-ago
Come the summer days that I used to know,
When I learned life's truths from my father's lips
As I shared the joy of his fishing-trips.

BREAD AND GRAVY

There's a heap o' satisfaction in a chunk o' pumpkin pie,
An' I'm always glad I'm livin' when the cake is passin' by;
An' I guess at every meal-time I'm as happy as can be,
For I like whatever dishes Mother gets for Bud an' me;
But there's just one bit of eatin' which I hold supremely great,
An' that's good old bread and gravy when I've finished up my plate.

I've eaten fancy dishes an' my mouth has watered, too;
I've been at banquet tables an' I've run the good things through;
I've had sea food up in Boston, I've had pompano down South,
For most everything that's edible I've put into my mouth;
But the finest treat I know of, now I publicly relate,
Is a chunk of bread and gravy when I've finished up my plate.

Now the epicures may snicker and the hotel chefs may smile,
But when it comes to eating I don't hunger much for style;
For an empty man wants fillin' an' you can't do that with things
Like breast o' guinea under glass, or curried turkey wings--
You want just plain home cookin' an' the chance to sit an' wait
For a piece o' bread an' gravy when you've finished up your plate.

Oh, it may be I am common an' my tastes not much refined,
But the meals which suit my fancy are the good old-fashioned kind,
With the food right on the table an' the hungry kids about
An' the mother an' the father handing all the good things out,
An' the knowledge in their presence that I needn't fear to state,
That I'd like so