'Twas home-love an' joy, 'twas the thought of my boy . . .
an' right there I vowed I'd return.

Big Four-finger Jack was right at my back, an' I saw with a kind o' surprise,
He gazed at the lake with a heartful of ache,
an' the tears irrigated his eyes.
An' sez he: "Cuss me, pard! but that there hits me hard;
I've a mother does nuthin' but wait.
She's turned eighty-three, an' she's only got me,
an' I'm scared it'll soon be too late."

* * * * *

On Fond-du-lac's shore I'm hearin' once more
that blessed old grammyfone play.
The summer's all gone, an' I'm still livin' on
in the same old haphazardous way.
Oh, I cut out the booze, an' with muscles an' thews
I corralled all the coin to go back;
But it wasn't to be: he'd a mother, you see,
so I -- SLIPPED IT TO FOUR-FINGER JACK.




The Land of Beyond



Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond,