October and the crimsoned trees
Our friends have automobiles now
Over the crib where the baby lies
Pa never gets a story straight
Peter's the fellow I go to whenever Paul presses his claim
She wasn't hungry, so she said
Since Pa put in the radio
Sit here on my knee, little girl, and I'll tell a story
Some folks pray for a boy
Stick to it, boy
Take a boy along with you
Taking medicine to-day isn't what it used to be
Teach the children of the Flag
Tender, gentle, brave and true
The hills are in the mist to-day
The houses of the rich folks are very fine to see
The little clothes line by the kitchen door
The ordinary fellow does an ordinary task
The other night 'bout two o'clock
The postman whistled down the street
There is a reason, I suppose, for every thing.
There is a song in every thing
There isn't any pay for you, you serve without reward
There is one critic a man should heed
There is so much that we can do
There may be happier times than this
There's a smile on the face of the mother to-day
There's never frost nor blight nor weeds
The road lay straight before him but the by-paths smiled at him
The time I played with Vardon
The white oak keeps its leaves till spring
They found the great stone rolled away
They laughed when I came home last night
They put his spotless surplice on
They're waiting for us over there
This is the tale of a mortgage and a dead man
To-day, if I were free, I think I'd wander