Old Mother Hubbard.

Thames Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 18482, 24 December 1917, Page 2 (Supplement)

Old Mother Hubbard.

Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard, She went to the eupboaixl, 'tis said; She went to the cupboard, did old Mother Hubbard, To see if she had any bread. But much to her wonder, through ©omebody'® blunder, She found that she hadn^t a crumb j While (more md than funny) she'd also no money To send to the baker for some. In mortal extremis she went to Lord Wemyssi, (Or "Weems" if you're anxious to swank), And asked him to lend liar a bob or a bender To pay for a decent-sized hadik. Hia Lordship to ease bcr, just ga.ve the old gieeeer, Enougih for a sixpenny touch; So, dropping a qurteey, dm set off to Ohertsey, But found that a loaf cost too much.

In tikis new dilemma she dried "Mary Emma," ' ■'■ (Her name's M. E. JJubbard,' you know), "To Mi- Lord Rhondda, who's rich, . as Goloonda, I guess I shall now have to go." Thereon, off she trotted, and very soon spotted, The King of Confcrollera and coals, Surrounded by others—awntfi, sisters and mother®, Who kp.pt on arriving in shoals. She stated her story, and, Liberal or -Tory, Lord Rhondda was forced to admit, "Bread its so,, I fear-a," -and gave \ the old de&r-a A bob for her sixpenny-bit. Thanks volublet voicing, she bought, with rejoicing, . Of bread a ooosid'rable lump; But when she got back-a, discovered (a-kiak-a!) That coal had advanced with a jump. ;:—John Earl Rose. Golden Harps. I hear the angels singing! The sweetest songs to me In my heart their voices ringing, Awake sweet melody! ' When footsore, faint, and weary From earth's vain joys I turn, When iffe looks veiry dreary And for sweet rest I y&aim. Them eongj of sweetest inusio N Come noatingi from afar, And 1 know the gate of Heaven For me is .left ajar. 1 know that they are waiting The loved whom I have known, With friendship unabatiug To meet their lost, their own. Amidst life's deepest satl ness Their golden harps 1 hear, And my heart is filled with gladness To feel that Heaven is near. Above the noise and clamour Of e!irth and eartiily things, I wish my heart to listen And h«a>v the angel's wing*?. And day by day draw nearer To where the angels be, And day by day sound clearer Their golden harps to me. And oft amid the thronging Of daily toils a.nd cuitts, God hears my earnest langiing And sends them -unawares. Somefthnes tdiey geuitiy whisper Sweet messages of peace., Lifting me from earth's sorrowe To joys which never' t<iafie. Sometimes 1 hear their, yoicem Above time's rushing 1 stream And stilled are all earth's noises And life .seems but i\ dream. Sometimes when sore itinpitation Be«eL« Ine round about, And I murmur at my station And all God's goodness doubt. As a mighty stream, of music This whisper floats tome, "We conquered, thou canst conquei" Through Mini who died for ■•theie-."