The Voice That Carries

THE VOICE THAT CARRIES

By DOUGLAS MALLOCH

He says to me, “You seldom see
A speaker such as he was;
He had a voice that seemed to be
As big as two or three was.
He pulled his hair and waved his arms
And gave the rich Old Harry,
You talk about your fire alarms —
Gosh, how his voice could carry!

“Election Day, hip,hip, hooray,
Our hero was elected —
But matters didn’t end the way,
The way that we expected.
In Washington our native son
Got just one day to blather,
And that is all he ever done,
As far as we can gather.

“He got the floor just once, no more,
And then they sat upon him,
Just once he got a chance to roar,
And that was all, doggone him.
His voice, I know, would yell and crow
And give the rich Old Harry,
But that ain’t what’s important, though —
It’s what it’s got to carry.”

Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) Nov 8, 1938

When the Coal-Pile Quits

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Oct 27, 1919

WHAT THE MINERS ARE ASKING.

It is well for the public to bear in mind what the bituminous miners are demanding. They want a sixty per cent increase in their hourly rate, a six hour day and a five day week. They are willing to work just thirty hours a week, and no more, if their leaders are to be believed.

Will they mine more coal? No, the output will be much less. More is needed to supply the demand, but that makes no difference to them.

Where is the money to come from to pay this increased cost of mining the coal? Out of the public. If the strikers get what they demand the price of coal will be increased approximately two dollars a ton to the consumer.

Nice prospect the consumer is facing, isn’t it? If the miners don’t get what they want he doesn’t get any coal. If their demands are granted he must fork over $2 more every time he orders a ton of coal.

Poor consumer! He is always getting in the neck. Somebody’s slugging him all the time. Wonder how long he is going to stand for it?

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Oct 28, 1919

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 4, 1919

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Dec 20, 1919

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 8, 1919

WHEN THE COAL-PILE QUITS.

Everybody’s grouchy when the coal-pile quits,
Greediness and stubbornness have paralyzed the pits.
“Cabinets are jelly-minded!”
Governors are spavin-spined-ed!”
Hear the chorus all uproar’ous giving Garfield fits!
For everybody’s grouchy when the coal-pile quits.

Everbody’s frosty when the coal pile quits,
When you fell the furnace you must wear your woolen mitts.
Courts and cook-stoves are upbraided;
Reds and redolents are aided;
Hear the Hammer-courus clamor, blowing us to bits,
For everybody’s frosty when the coal-pile quits.

Just one man is smiling as the coal-pile quits;
Only one I think of whom it favorably hits,
As his task grows nearer daily,
I can hear him chuckle daily,
“I, by Jim’ny, in the chimney, won’t be burnt to bits!”
Santy Claus is smiling as the coal-pile quits.

(Copyright, 1919, N.E.A.)

Edmund Vance Cooke

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 11, 1919

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 2, 1919

SWEARING OFF.

It used to be on New Year’s Day
A man forsook his booze,
But now ‘twould be a better play
To swear off wearing shoes.

He used to cease to burn cigars
In succor of his soul,
But now, no doubt, he’d thank his stars
To swear off burning coal.

He swore off drinking (in his pride)
To give the New Year greeting,
But nothing now will save his hide
Unless he swears off eating.

He swore off naughtiness, and used
To think himself a hero,
But cost of living has reduced
His naught-iness to zero.

He used to cease some wicked word
Upon some New Year’s Day,
But now — oh, let it not be heard
The word he’d like to say!

(Copyright, 1919, N.E.A.)

Edmund Vance Cooke

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 24, 1919

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Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Dec 20, 1919

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Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 18, 1919

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The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Dec 15, 1919

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Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Sep 22, 1919

The More They Get

THE MORE THEY GET.

When laborers got a dollar a day,
They sweated hard for a picayune pay,
But now at a dollar an hours or so,
Did you ever see anyone work so slow?
The more they get, the less they do,
The more they get, the less they do;
Honest to goodness, isn’t it true
The more they get the less they do!

When profiteers used to be content
With a margin of seventy-five per cent,
They worked a little bit every year,
But never again will they work, I fear.
The more they get, the less they do,
The more they get the less they do;
Why work at all, when they’re working you?
The more they get, the less they do.

When a dozen eggs cost a shilling, about,
Every hen worked hard, day in and out,
But now that eggs are a dollar a throw,
Not a cackle occurs for a month or so.
The more they get, the less they do,
The more they get, the less they do;
Search the chicken-yard through and through;
The more they get, the less they do.

When an M.C. got three thousand a year,
A Congressional session was counted dear,
But we’d willingly pay any price per seat,
If only the Congress would never meet.
The more they get, the more they do,
The more they get, the more they do;
Do their constituents many or few,
The more they get, the more they do.

When Milton wrote his Paradise Lost,
He received five pounds as the total cost,
But now that poetry’s very much worse,
We get that much for a single verse.
The more we get, the less we do,
The more we get, the less we do.
Did you ever read Paradise Lost clear through?
That’s the reason the less we do!

(Copyright, 1919, N.E.A.)

Edmund Vance Cooke

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 30, 1919

Borrow on Bonds to Loan

Wall Street Wants Money

How do You Like High Finance, Uncle Sam?

Cook County Herald (Chicago, Illinois) Nov 29, 1907

Editorial Dragnet

Trampling on the Nation’s Laws

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 18, 1919

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 6, 1919

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Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 19, 1919

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Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 6, 1919

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Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 19, 1919

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Cost of Living is Breaking Our Necks!

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 11, 1919

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Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Dec 20, 1919

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Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 19, 1919

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Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 5, 1919

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Economic Conditions

High Cost of Living

Wage Demands – Strikes

Industrial Unrest

Waves of Social Discontent

Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Sep 22, 1919

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Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Sep 22, 1919

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Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Sep 22, 1919

What was Funny in 1919?

Not the Bold Face Type, However

“I see that printer who divorced his wife has married again.”

“Well, I hope he selected a different type.”

— Florida Times-Union.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 18, 1919

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The Other Kind Welcome

Rejected One — So you object to my presence at your wedding.

The Girl — That depends on how you spell it.

— Boston Transcript.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 18, 1919

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The Eternal Feminine

“Why do they speak of Mother Earth? Why should earth be considered feminine?”

“Because she’s so successful in concealing her age, I take it.”

— Louisville Courier Journal.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 4, 1919

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Why, Of Course Not!

“Sir,” she trickled, in a voice that would make an icicle seem like a superheated mustard plaster, “I have never met you.”

“Well, I know it,” the fresh guy with the withered moustached bubbled blithely. IF you had, do you suppose I’d be going to all this trouble to get acquainted?”

–Brooklyn Citizen.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 6, 1919

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Family Secret

“I bet I know what makes sister wear her hair bunched down over her ears,” said the small boy.

“Do you?” replied the affable young man.

“Yes. But I ain’t goin’ to tell. Only if my ears were as big as sister’s I’d do something like that myself.”

— Washington Star.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 6, 1919

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A Polite Burglar

Miss Fortyodd woke in the middle of the night to find burglar ransacking her effects. Miss Fortyodd did not scream, for she prided herself, among other things, upon her courage.

Pointing to the door with a dramatic gesture, she exclaimed:

“Leave me at once!”

The burglar politely retreated a step and said:

“I had no intention of taking you.”

— Detroit Free Press.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 9, 1919

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Wanted to Know

“Just one more question, uncle.”

“Well, well, what is it?”

“If a boy is a lad and has a step-father, is the lad a stepladder?”

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Sep 10, 1919

Street Car Struck by Coal Train

Ashtabula, Dec. 17. — Eight dead and seven injured was the toll of the wreck here last night when a Lake Shore and Michigan Southern coal train struck a street car. Two additional bodies, that of David Stowe and Mrs. Rose Thompson were found today. All of the injured are expected to recover.

The coal train crashed into a street car on the Ashtabula Transit Line at the Center street crossing. The car, which was carrying passengers down town, was struck in the middle and demolished.

The dead:

Miss Laura Leaphart, aged 20, daughter of C.H. Leaphart, this city.

Mrs. W.H. Cook, aged 45, this city.

Mrs. Geo. Kitson, aged 38, this city.

Mrs. Frank C. Barttell, this city.

David Stowe, this city.

Mrs. Rose Thompson.

The injured:

Ralph Cluff, leg and arm broken; may die.

Mrs. C.P. Hendershot, badly cut about the face.

Volna Barttell, aged 7, daughter of Frank Barttell, head injured and wrist broken.

Mrs. Stewart, cut and bruised.

W.P. Guthrie of Erie, Pa.

The missing:

Mrs. Eva Pancoast and 12-year-old daughter.

D.E. O’Connor, engineer.

O.E. Hirshberger, fireman.

James McCutcheon and Thomas Mullen, motorman and conductor respectively of the street car, escaped serious injury. McCutcheon is being held pending an investigation.

The conductor’s register book, which was found among the wreckage, showed that 13 fares had been collected. It is believed that several other bodies are buried beneath the wreckage.

From the appearance of the wreck, it is thought that the engineer, seeing the car in front of his train, suddenly applied the brakes. Fully a dozen cars, filled with coal, were piled 50 feet high. Workmen started at once to dig away the coal which covered the debris of the street car.

It is said that the gates at the crossing were not down and that the watchman, on duty at the time of the collision, is missing.

Eighty feet of the wall in the brick building occupied by the Richards Bros., wholesale grocery was caved in by the derailed cars. A large hole was torn in Fred Dorman’s grocery and a load of coal dumped inside.

The Center street crossing is the most dangerous in this city, as four tracks must be crossed by the street cars.

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Dec 17, 1912

The Red – Deport Them Now!

The Red

The Red he came
From Russia, where
The Bolsheviks
Wear tangled hair.
He came because
The eats were bad
In old Moscow
And Petrograd.

When he got here
And had a feed,
He started in
To trouble breed;
He howled about
The worker’s rights
And plotted with
His gang o’ nights.

For capitalists
He plotted woe,
The government
He’d overthrow.
Old Glory he
Would tear to shreds,
And with a club
Break copper’s heads.

But sad for Red
Old Uncle Sam
The lid on him
Put with a slam,
Which put an end
Unto his yell
And locked him up
In a stone cell.

And soon this Red
And all his bunch
Will be where there
Is no more lunch.
They’ll ship him to
His native place
Where whiskers will
Freeze on his face.

Good Uncle Sam
Has now got through
Of fooling with
This vice Red crew.
He’s after them
To beat the band,
And drive them out
Of this fair land.

— Brooklyn Standard-Union

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 14, 1919

My Cellar

Image from flickr – millerm217

“MY CELLAR”

My cellar, ’tis of thee
Wondrous sub-treasury,
Of thee I sing;
Cave on your owner’s pride!
Hall where glad spirits hide!
To every bottle’s side,
Let cobwebs cling.

My sacred cellar, thee,
Pent-up perfumery
For lucky lungs!
I love thy flirting flasks,
Thy jugs, they jovial casks;
Heigh-ho, the tempting tasks
Of pulling bungs!
Let prohibition spread
Outside — above my head;
Down here all’s well!
Let mellow whisky flow!
Let neighbors come below!
This is the life, what-ho!
Who would rebel?

John Barleycorn, old boy,
They cannot kill they joy;
Hail, Nature’s pet!
Long last each home’s supply
— America’s gone dry?
Ho, what a jolly lie!
— We’re soaking wet!

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 3, 1919

Image from Leslie M.M. Blume

True Blue

Image from Going on 80

True Blue
The farmer may have whiskers, but
He is no Bolshevik,
The Reds they cannot fool him with
A propaganda trick,
He’ll never be a Socialist,
Or join the Trotzky clan;
He will remain just what he is,
A good American.

They’ve tried to win him over to
Defy his country’s law,
But farmer man just shakes his head
And firmly sets his jaw.
By heck, they cannot make him budge,
He is not built that way,
He’s a good and solid backer,
Of the old U.S.A.

They cannot get him out on strike
To plow and hoe the sticks;
He is agin’ all Anarchists,
All Reds and Bolsheviks.
So here is to the Farmer Man
With hayseed in his hair;
As true and good American
As you’ll find anywhere.

— Brooklyn Standard-Union.

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Nov 18, 1919