Ef You Don’t Watch Out

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Herbert C. Hoover’s come to our land to stay
An’ fill the cups an’ saucers, an’ keep the wolf away,
An’ shoo the prices off their perch, an’ loosen up the hoard
Of them that harbors foodstuffs so we can’t pay our board.
An’ all housewives in the land, when the supper things is done,
They set around the kitchen fire, an’ don’t have any fun.
A-listening to the waste tales ‘at Hoover tells about,
An’ the H.C.L. ‘at gits you
Ef you

Onct they was some people wouldn’t save a scrap,
An’ when they went to bed at night ‘thought a hil o’ pap.
They all began to holler an’ they all began to bawl,
An’ then they turned the kivvers down an’ went out in the hall;
An’ they seeked food in the pantry, the cupboard an’ the press,
They seeked food on the shelves an’ everywheres, I guess,
But all they ever found was this, tater skin scooped out,
Er the H.C.L.’ll git you
Ef you

An’ one time they was some people ‘ud allus laugh an’ say
What’d they care for H.C.L., so as they had good pay.
An’ onct when they had company, an’ folks what knows was there,
They mocked ’em an’ they shocked ’em, an’ they said they didn’t care!
An’ while they was a-eatin’ all the food in sight,
They came to two Great Big Giants, which they was ‘bleeged to fight.
One was named Starvation, an’ t’other Famine-Drought,
An’ the H.C.L.’ll git you
Ef you

An’ Herbert C. Hoover says ‘at when the soil is rich,
An’ ready for the plowin’ an’ harrowin’ and sich,
An’ you know the country needs you to go an’ “do your bit.”
An’ show that you are “on the job” an ain’t a-goin’ to quit.
You’d better mind your president an leader true an’ dear,
An’ help the po’ an’ needy ones ‘at cluster all about,
Er the H.C.L.’ll git you,
Ef you

— Exchange.

The Daily Times – Dec 11, 1917

Image from wikipedia


Food conservation
Is the cry all day;
Mother’s eating iron bolts
And father’s chewing hay.

Henry’s ate the tablecloth,
The carpet on the stairs;
There’s nothing left for Mary Ann
Except to say her prayers.

Georgie’s stewing up the broom
To make a saving soup;
Willie’s out before the door
Gnawing off the stoop.

Reginald has made a hit
By cooking all his boots;
Door-knobs take the place of eggs,
And chandeliers of fruits.

Helen’s eating shredded wheat;
You’d hardly call it food.
I would call it — what’s the use?
I mustn’t be too rude.

The remedy is plain to see,
Although ’twill be a bore —
We’ll have to cut out eating food
Until we’ve won the war.

— Springfield Union.

Reading Eagle – Dec 15, 1917


How did they entertain you last evening?”


“I don’t understand you.”

“They didn’t serve a thing to eat.”

— Philadelphia Bulletin.

The Pittsburgh Press – Oct 24, 1917

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