HIS HEART,
GOD--AN' RED-JACKET, KNOWS!

Now, you folks, don't get hard thinkin' when Red-Jacket starts a-drinkin',
An' he busts th' Ten Commandments into five-an'-twenty bits;
When he hears th' bugles sound, ain't he fu'st upon th' ground?
An' don't his "powders" cure 'em of the'r hell-damnation fits?

SO WE'LL DRINK T' YOU, RED-JACKET!
GOD'S BLESSIN' ON Y'R HEAD;
YOU'RE TH' BRITISH CON-STI-TOO-SHUN
BOUND IN YELLA' STRIPES, AN' RED!

UP AGAINST IT

When y're up against it, don't get feelin' blue;
Somewher' in this world of ours ther's a place f'r you.
Y'r jes' a round peg in a squar', y' ain't th' proper fit;
Keep turnin', twistin' every way--an' rise a little bit.

If we'd all we wanted in this whirlin' globe we're on,
W'y we'd all begin t' grouch--then begin t' yawn;
We'd get dead sick o' summer without a tech o' frost,
An' Ex-pe-ri-ence we got t' hev' regardless of th' cost.

Oh, th' smell o' fightin' powder, that's th' perfume f'r th' nose;
Without th' thorn in hidin' who'd care t' pluck th' Rose?
An' th' tears that wet y'r pillo' at night when y' go t' bed,
They'll wash away y'r troubles--an' y'r sins, tho' ruby red.

Boy, when y'r up against it, get y'r back agin' a fence
An' swing that good ol' we'pon we used t' call "horse sense":
Pitch off y'r coat--go at it jes' like a fightin' man;
Throw up y'r head--glad y' ain't dead--
Then sluice y'r bench--an' pan!

Say, when y'r up against it, don't get feelin' blue;
Ther's room t' spare, ther's plenty air; ain't that enough f'r you?
Every bed-rock wash-up ain't all gold t' th' pan,
But life CAN'T be a "failure" if y' play th' game a MAN!

HOW SLIPPERY PLAYED THE GAME

NO, TH' STORY AIN'T NEVER BIN TOLD AFORE, AS I'M TH' ON'Y MAN SEED TH'
GAME PLAYED ON TH' DANCE-HALL FLOOR. I WAS THER' WHEN THE FUN BEGAN. AN'
WHAT I SEE I TELL YOU STRAIGHT--TELL IT AS MAN TO MAN.

HOW SLIPPERY PLAYED THE GAME

"Lost ag'in!" yelled Slippery Jim,
"Never a mo'sel o' luck in m' life!
Yankee, you're on th' velvet agin!"
Says Yankee: "Jim, let's play f'r a wife!
There's Bonanza Pearl, she's sweet on you;--
Fairer 'card' no gambler ever drew!"

Slippery Jim staked high that night,
The game was poker,--rake-in ke