From the Harrisburg Telegraph, August 31, 1914.
He’d nothing but his little job
And she her rosy cheek,
But love still lives on bread and cheese
And kisses twice a week;
And so the speculators went
To get the license out—
And what’s the use to try to preach
When the wind of love’s about!
He’d nothing but his manly will
And she her gentle grace;
But, oh, the world and all to him
Was in her glowing face;
And so these speculators took
The problem all must fight—
And what’s the use to fret and scold
When all comes out so right!
He’d nothing but his youth and gleam
And she her laughing eyes;
But they were in the vale of dreams
Beneath the singing skies;
And so these speculators chose
Their nest as others do—
And what’s the use to raise a fuss
When they only did like you!