Happy Days   By: John Cecil Clay (1875-1930)

To Stern Critics

Here's to stern Critics! May they some day learn The forward lookout's Better than the stern!

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Here's to her shadow! May it mark the hours Upon the sundial of her life in flowers!

HAPPY DAYS

BY OLIVER HERFORD AND JOHN CECIL CLAY

NEW YORK MITCHELL KENNERLEY

COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY MITCHELL KENNERLEY

THE·PLIMPTON·PRESS NORWOOD·MASS·U·S·A

CONTENTS

PAGE TO STERN CRITICS 3 TO HER SHADOW 4 TO FASHION 9 TO THE TYPEWRITER 11 THE FLOOR 12 TO MUSIC 15 TO THE PUBLISHER 17 HERE'S LOOKING 19 THE DOVE OF PEACE 21 TO THE CLOCK 23 TO HOPE 25 TO LIBERTY 27 STAIRS: A TOAST 29 TO LADY NICOTINE 31 OH, EDITOR, EDITOR! 33 TO THE CREDITOR 35 TO NEPTUNE 37 TO THE WAITER 39 TO TEMPTATION 41 TO THE MAID WITH FANCY FREE 43 TO OUR SWEETHEARTS 45 TO OUR READERS 46

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Fashion! Lovely Dame! Pledge in sparkling wine! Let us add her name To the Muses' nine!

Though the lovely Nin All should pass away Why should Woman pine, If but Fashion stay?

Tho' the Muses' lore Molder on the shelf, Still may She adore In Fashion's glass Herself.

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To The Typewriter

Here's to the Typewriter! Health to her type! Whether blond or brunette Or budding or ripe. If she be the right type Be she buxom or slight, When she doesn't type wrong She is sure to typewrite.

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THE FLOOR

Here's to the floor, Our best friend of all, Who sticks to us close In the time of our fall. When benches are fickle And tables betray And rugs are revolving, He meets us half way. Our stay and support, When we can't stand alone, With the floor for a backer, We'll never be thrown. Here's to our friend, In life's every stage! Dry nurse of infancy, Wet nurse of age! A health to our floor! Supporter and stay; Though he often be full, May he never give way!

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To Music

Here's to Music, Joy of joys! One man's music's Another man's noise.

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To The Publisher! Drink! Let his virtue be shown In the Good Works of others If not in his own.

TO THE PUBLISHER

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Here's looking at you, dear! though I should pour A sea of wine, my eyes would thirst for more.

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Here's to the Dove of Peace! May she find a mate some day, And may her tribe increase As fast as she can lay!

With cooing doves galore Then may the sky be dark Until the Dogs of War Can't see each other bark!

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Here's to the Clock! Whose hands, we pray heaven, When we come home at three, Have stopped at eleven!

TO THE CLOCK

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Here's to Hope, the child of Care, And pretty sister of Despair! Here's hoping that Hope's children shan't Take after their Grandma or Aunt!

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TO LIBERTY

Here's to our Goddess, Liberty, Idol of bronze and stone! May she awake to life some day And let her charms be known.

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STAIRS A TOAST

Here's to the man who invented stairs And taught our feet to soar! He was the first who ever burst Into a second floor.

The world would be downstairs to day Had he not found the key; So let his name go down to fame, Whatever it may be.

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TO OUR LADY NICOTINE

Here's to Lady Nicotine! Saint and Sorceress and Queen! Saint, whose purple halo rings Lift our eyes from earthly things; Witch, whose wand of scented briar Transmutes dead weeds to fragrant fire; Queen, whose rod her slaves adore! What can freedom offer more?

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