The Old Timer He nods no longer by the fire Where kettle babbles like the years; The fuel and the flames aspire To what he now no longer fears. Time was he held a badger bound By cool of courage on his brow; His childrens children make a sound Of weeping as they see him now. His days like pebbles in a pile The ants laboriously built, Enround completely, and a style Of marbled meaning marks the silt. Of all the songs he used to sing While crossing on the westward plain, A hush within the waggoned ring A sunset, and the stars remain. Ellis Foote. IS AMERICA WORTH FIGHTING FOR? By Pvt. Travis Parry Is America worth fighting for? Its mighty redwood trees, Lofty rugged mountains, Tossing, turbulent seas; Plains of wheat and cattle Yielding wealth untold, Earths treasures opened Oil, copper, gold. Is America worth fighting for? Its cities, farms and streams Developed through the faith Of our forefathers dreams, Bestowed with many blessings Most cherished of all lands Freedom, equal rights, Ruled by a chosen hand. Yes, Americas worth fighting for So will it always be! Americas worth dying for I know it is to me. Written for the benefit of any person who may be so mistaken as to see no reason for this present struggle. I Can Get In! They say: I cant get in Because it happens I was born Too long ago And yet the will is there to go And fight beside my boys For all the things that I hold dear That greedy, gory hands Would take away. The thrill of living In this land of liberty Its grandeur, its beauty, Its way of life. To get in there and help to win But then, they say, I cant get in. But if I do my job each day, And buy bonds and help to pay For all the things That keep them up who fight on wings, And on the sea, and on the land, And save, and help to build morale, And do my bit in every way With all my might, I dont care what they say I can get in! Herbert E. Miles, Salt Lake City. LETS FINISH THE JOB OVER THERE (Lyric) Lets dazzle the world with our power to do The thing that has got to be done. Its success or failure, Im telling you true, Is the hours we work that will see the thing through; Lets think for a moment, of your home and mine, And know that as men we must stick to the line To finish the job over there. (Chorus) Lets finish the job over there, lets finish the job over there. If we make up our mind thats the thing we will do, Then stick to the line til we see the thing through. Remember its his home and your home and mine Were working to keep from the firing line. Lets dare to do all that becometh a man, Let's finish the job over there. (2) Its genius and boys, we have got what it takes. Its our job and its got to be done. Its your job and my job, without ifs and donts. Its the guns and the bombs that we put on the boats, Its courage and power, Im hoping you see Its your pluck and my pluck that will set the world free, And finish the job over there. (Chorus) Lets dare to do all that becometh a man, Our job and its got to be done. Remember its his home and your home and mine Were working to keep from the firing line. For instance, devotion to your land and mine, Your mother and father, your children and mine. Lets finish the job over there. Mrs. C. R. Murchison. (To the tune of The Rosary.) The hours I spent in sweater art, Are as a string of purls, I sigh. To count them over every one a part My rows a wry, my rows a wry. Each hour I purl each purl take care To drop no stitch lest I be stung, I count, yea count unto the end And there a sleeve is hung. Oh, memories that bless and burn, Of raveling out at bitter loss, I drop a purl, yet strive at last to learn To knit a cross, sweet art! To knit across. (To the tune of A Perfect Day.) When you come to the end of a perfect row, And you sit alone with your wool, And your bosom heaves with a rhythm slow, For the joy that youd followed the rule Do you think what the end of a perfect row Can mean to a tired heart, When youve dropped each stitch Since you learned to purl And you lost three more at the start. Well, this is the end of a perfect row And the end of a sweater too Though its for a man that is big and strong It will be pretty tight tis true But toiling has ended this perfect row A nice piece of knitters art, And twill stand at the end still strong and firm When the whole thing comes apart.