Various

Rough and Rowdy Ways

For years and years I’ve rambled,
Drank my wines and gambled,
But one day I thought I’d settle down.
I met a perfect lady,
She said she’d be my baby,
We built a cottage in the old home town.

But somehow I can’t forget
My good old rambling days.
The railroad trains are calling me always;
I may be rough, I may be wild,
I may be tough, and kinda vile,
But I can’t give up my good old rough and rowdy ways.

Sometimes I met a bounder
Who knew me when I was a rounder,
He grabs my hand and says, “Boy, have a drink.”
We go down to the poolroom,
Get in the gang and soon,
The daylight comes before I’ve had a wink.

But somehow I can’t forget,
My good old rambling days,
The railroad trains are calling me always,
I may be rough, I may be wild,
I may be tough and kinda vile,
But I can’t give up my good old rough and rowdy ways.

Sent in by WOODROW GRAHAM, Wills Point, Texas.

The Boy in Blue

The office had just opened,
When a man quite old in years,
Entered in with careworn face,
Showing signs of grief and tears;
And as the clerk approached him,
In trembling words did say:
I’m waiting for my boy, sir,
He’s coming home today.

Oh, you have made a slight mistake,
As surely you must know,
This is an express office, and not a town depot,
And if your boy is coming home,
With smiles, the clerk did say,
You’ll find him with the passengers
In the station just over the way.

Oh, you do not understand me,
Tremblingly the old man said:
He’ll not come home with the passengers,
But by express instead,
He’s coming to his mother,
With tears the old man said.

He’s coming home in a casket, sir;
He’s coming to us dead,
Just then a whistle pierced the air,
Express train, some one cried.
The old man rose in a breathless haste
And quickly rushed outside.

And from the car a long white casket
Was rolled out on the ground,
The scene was most heart-rending
To those who gathered round:
Oh, do not handle it rough, boys,
It contains my darling Jack:
He went away, as you boys know,
See how he’s coming back.
He broke his poor old mother’s heart;
Her warning has come true,
She said he’d come home dead to us,
When he joined the boys in blue.

From the Reverse side of the clipping:

… Delawares lived in a haphazard
sort of way under guidance of their
chief. Jim-Ned, by hunting and fishing
and they learned at once to trade
and barter with the settlers, bringing
skins and furs to exchange for groceries
and such like. But they offered
no hindrance nor hurt to anyone. Of
course the womenfolk were careful not
to go alone about their habitations, for
they were not familiar with their ways
and didn’t want to take any risk, but
everything was peaceful so far as they
were concerned.

The Founding of Taylorsville – Now Decatur.

“When I reached Decatur in 1858
Wise county had been organized just
two years and the name Taylorsville,
which the little neighborhood town
bore, was that year changed to Decatur.
The first was chosen by Col. Absolom
Bishop, who founded the town
on a 60-acre site donated for the purpose
by James Proctor and wife. The
name was the outcome of the admiration
the Colonel had for Zachary Taylor,
but in 1857, with the favorable decision
for the location of the village as
the county seat of Wise, following a
hot fight staged by the Halsell Valley …

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