What Are Museums For Jon Sleigh download

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-museums-for-jon-
sleigh-57971306

Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.

The Return Of Curiosity What Museums Are Good For In The 21st Century
Nicholas Thomas

https://ebookbell.com/product/the-return-of-curiosity-what-museums-
are-good-for-in-the-21st-century-nicholas-thomas-7375942

What Are Poets For An Anthropology Of Contemporary Poetry And Poetics

Gerald L Bruns

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-poets-for-an-anthropology-of-
contemporary-poetry-and-poetics-gerald-l-bruns-48299702

What Are Tensors Exactly Hongyu Guo

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-tensors-exactly-hongyu-
guo-48710460

What Are The Stars Ganesan Srinivasan

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-the-stars-ganesan-
srinivasan-49583120
What Are These Queer Stones Baetyls Epistemology Of A Minoan Fetish
Sam Crooks

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-these-queer-stones-baetyls-
epistemology-of-a-minoan-fetish-sam-crooks-49994810

What Are Exhibitions For An Anthropological Approach Inge Daniels

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-exhibitions-for-an-
anthropological-approach-inge-daniels-50223760

What Are Community Studies Graham Crow

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-community-studies-graham-
crow-50224114

What Are Qualitative Research Ethics Rose Wiles

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-qualitative-research-ethics-
rose-wiles-50226190

What Are We Thinking Reflections On Church And Society From Southern

African Methodists Dion A Forster

https://ebookbell.com/product/what-are-we-thinking-reflections-on-
church-and-society-from-southern-african-methodists-dion-a-
forster-50325064
 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
ONWARD FOR FREEDOM AND RIGHT
(Written at the time of the Spanish-American War.)
“All that there is in Cuba’s lands
Is ours, and we shall reign;
Or we will fight them till they die!”
Thus comes the cry from Spain.
“They never shall their freedom have—
We will rule with iron hand;
They shall bow to us, they shall heed our laws
Or we’ll drive them from the land!”

“Ye cruel tyrants! Are ye men?”

(’Twas ‘Uncle Sam’ who spoke.)
“Desist, or ye shall see this end
In cannon roar, and fire, and smoke
Ye worse than tyrants! what have ye done?
Ye have pillaged, burned and destroyed—
Ye have starved helpless men and women to death
And the wailing of children enjoyed.

Ye have tortured them with fiendish delight,

And hundreds of people have slain;
Ye caused the death of our brave, noble men,
Who went down in the wreck of the “Maine.”
Ye can come to me if ye want to fight,—
Ye can come with your jeer and taunt;
And ye can fight to your hearts’ content.
If fighting is what ye want.

Our boys so brave, when duty calls,

Will all their strength unite;
And fight as long as there is need
For freedom and for right.
May the curse forever be wiped out
That now the country mars;
And peace restored in this fair land
Where float the stripes and stars.”
A MYSTERY EXPLAINED
Hi Sambo—don’ yo’ talk dat way—
Aint yo’ a silly coon!
A talkin’ ’bout de mystery
Ob de man dats in de moon!
I tell yo’ ’taint no mystery
’Bout de moon, or how it acts,
I reckon ef yo’d like to know
I kin tell yo’ all de facts.

’Tis dis:—Yo’ see when de world was new

De moon was roun’ an’ clear;
An’ kep’ a shinin’ ebery night
Jus’ so, year arter year.—
’Till dis man he done some drefful t’ing—
He ran, but dey cotched him soon
An’ widout no odds dey banished him
An’ sent him to de moon.

Dey see’d him lookin’ down to earth

Whar dey wouldn’t let him stay;
Den solemn like, an’ bery slow
He turn he face away.—
An’ arter dat de moon was new—
Den half a moon dar’ll be;
Den de moon am roun’, an’ de man looks down
On de lan’ an’ on de sea.

An’ he gazes ober all de earth

’Til he wants to see no more—
Den he slowly turn he face away
Jus’ as he did before.
Dese am de facts ob what yo’ call
De “Mystery profound”—
When de moon keeps changing as yo’ see
’Tis de man a turnin’ round!
 A BIRTHDAY GREETING

Your natal anniversary

Once more around has crept;
And, as a token of respect
Will you these flowers accept

From all your friends? And we do hope

That they may bring delight;
And shed abundant cheer and joy
From every petal bright.

And as another year speeds on

To swell the list of Time;
We truly wish that each day may
Be filled with Peace sublime.

And may the Heavenly Father’s grace

Be with you on your way;
And keep you safely ’till returns
Another glad Birth-day.
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDETH WELL

The robins and the blue-birds sing

In tones so sweet and clear;
“Cheer up dear, Annie dear, ’tis spring
And Summer time is near.”

The crocus soon will wake from sleep

And lift its dainty head;
The trailing arbutus will peep
Out from its leafy bed.

Dame Nature soon will deck the hills

And vales in verdant clothes;
While ’neath the oak the brooklet trills
Where blooms the blushing rose.

Fair daisy sweet and buttercup

The breeze will softly kiss;
Then do not pine, dear friend, cheer up
And share with them their bliss.

Let not your heart be troubled dear,

The birds this message tell,—
Ye faint at heart, be of good cheer,
“All’s well that endeth well.”
 A TALE FROM MOUNTAIN GRANGE
[This poem was written for, and read at the first meeting held after the completion of
the new grange hall at North Buckfield, Nov. 1st, 1904. The poem was founded on
facts, but in order to be more amusing for the occasion the incidents were, of course,
somewhat exaggerated by the author, who was also a member of Mountain Grange.]

Patrons and Friends:

Within the annals of this Grange
A circumstance occurred—
And, be it true—Or otherwise,
I’ll give it as ’twas heard.
When last winter’s icy breezes
Brought the welcome news, so strange
That the ever staunch, and loyal
Patrons of this Mountain Grange

Decided to erect their temple

Ere the coming of the Fall
In the village of North Buckfield,—
There to locate their new hall.—
Ere the last glad trump had sounded
Thro’ the vales, and o’er the plain—
Ere the zephyrs bore the echo
To the rugged hills of Maine—

Ere the last faint notes were wafted

To “Old Shack’s” most distant peak—
There a brave, and loyal patron
Thus to himself did speak:—
“I, Lucius Record, patron, member
Of this Grange, a vow do make
That I the very first will be
The foundation ground to break.

For I have read of honors great

To “lay the corner stone,”
I’ll be the first to break the ground
And do it all alone!
And so, for months, this patron brave
Did cherish in his breast
A longing for the time to come
Which gave him much unrest.

“Old Father Time” moved slowly on—

Th b l
 The snow began to melt—
The bleak earth showed in tiny spots
Where Lucius Record dwelt.
For aught else in the world, just then
He neither cared nor feared;
But watched those patches grow, until
The snow had disappeared.

To all who anxiously await

Time slowly wears away;
But at last—at last there came the eve
Ere the eventful day.
That night no sweet dreams came to him,
No sleep his pillow sought;
But listened he to every sound
With nerves most tensely wrought.

And ere the sun’s first rays arose

To gild yon distant domes;
And shed their radiance upon
These fair North Buckfield homes
Arose he from his downy couch—
And with his gleaming spade
Proceeded he to carry out
The plans which he had made.

In silence marched he by Fred Heald’s,

Slow, stealthy as a mouse;
With bated breath, on tiptoe went
Past Celia Dunham’s house
Lest she or Fred should be awake
And chance to hear his step,—
And thus—with soft, and cat-like tread
He past the school house crept
And reached the spot where stands this hall
When lo! in yonder field
He spied a form approaching near,
And found ’twas Brother Heald
And on the self same purpose bent!
Lute straightway feared the worst;
It but remained now to be seen
Which one would get there first!

Lucius quickened up his pace

Nor stopped for rocks or planks,
’Tis said his record equaled then
The far-famed Nancy Hanks!
He nearly now his courage lost,
The way seemed not so clear
To be the first to break the ground
With tother feller near.

So in the road the spade he dropped

And scooped it full of earth
Then sprang with all his wondrous might
And ran for all he’s worth
And dumped that sand upon the spot,
And made a little mound—
“Ah, ha!” quoth he, “I am the first
To break the Grange Hall ground!”

Then with a sigh both turned away—

They felt somewhat—perhaps
One like the ‘Russians’ at bay—
The other like the ‘Japs.’—
The morning dawned with azure skies,
And then the workmen came;
Brad Damon and another man
Sir William Brown by name.

They saw the sand, and then one spoke—

(The other followed suit,)
“What tarnal fool done this, d’ye spose?
I vum, I’ll bet ’twas Lute!”
The other answered, “I’ve no doubt
’Twas him, but see these tracks—
N d ’ d h
Now you don’t spose dew ye, they
Resemble Danville Jack’s?”

“Oh, no, taint Dan—I know ’tis Lute—

To reason this appeals:—
These tracks look like an Elephant
While Dan’s got Nigger heels!”
Then exclamations volleyed forth,
With laughter long and loud;
Just then Geo. Record’s silvery voice
Came ringing through the crowd:

“I say there, Bill! Tim Jones’n me

Will give fifty cents in change
To whom will write this story up
And read it in the Grange!”
Five poetic pencils glibly glide—
Low bends each thoughtful head—
Presented for inspections, thus
Brad Damon’s poem read:—

Lucius Record
Sat up late,—
Broke the ground—
Honor great.

Road to fame—
Show’s us how,—
Pile of dirt—
Big’s a cow.

Danville Jack—
Gloomy feels—
Awfully fat—
Nigger heels.

Awfully solemn—
Awfully mute—
Sadly feels—
 Sadly feels
Beat by Lute!

Walls of fame—
Got Lute’s name on—
Poem complete—
Bradbury Damon.

“By Gum! he’s beaten us all!” they cried

Between their tight—shut teeth;
Then brushed away that pile of sand
And saw what lay beneath!
They cried “Let’s give three cheers for Lute!
Of him we have learned this day
If we can’t succeed just as we wish
We’ll do it as we may.”

Patrons, Friends:—

Should aught arise within this Grange

Which we don’t understand;
Let’s look beneath the surface then,
Let’s clear away the sand.
SONG OF THE GRANGERS’
(Written for Mountain Grange)
Away o’er the hills, or thro’ valleys,
Wherever I happen to be;
’Tis wafted along by the breezes,
And comes like sweet music to me,
As on, by the wayside I wander
A Brother I happen to meet,—
The hand-grasp is ever most cordial
And this is the way that we greet,—
Goin ’t the Grange?

I stroll mid the tall waving grasses

Where the laurel and sweet brier springs—
Thence on, to the deep-shadow’d woodland
Where the brooklet so merrilly sings—
How lulling the chirp of the cricket—
How drowsy the hum of the bees.—
I start.—for a voice speaking near me
In deep tones utters words such as these—
Goin ’t the Grange?

Oh! the tables so loaded with dainties

We hail with the keenest delight;
The fruit, pies, and cake, we all welcome
With faces so happy and bright.
There’s naught like the rich, amber coffee
Great fervor and zest to impart—
While the savory baked beans and brown bread
E’er touch a deep chord in the heart—
Goin ’t the Grange?

Grange!—— name so laden with beauty

I hail with the greatest of glee;
I love it, our dear banded Order—
And ever a Granger I’ll be!
Oft I long as the season approaches
The time for a “meeting” again
To hear from the tumult of voices
Re-echo this gladsome refrain:—
Goin ’t the Grange?

And may the bright Star of the Heavens

Ever guard and guide us aright—
May we all many times be permitted
To meet here in ardent delight.
May we ever be true to our Master—
Prove faithful and honest in all;
And be ready to answer the summons
When the One great Master shall call
To a higher and nobler Grange.
UNCLE JOE’S SOLILOQUY
Talk about your new inventions
And the wonders of the age;
I think the pesky foolishness
Has reached the topmost stage!
The news that this here world is round
Comes from some great man’s mouth—
And that ’tis hung onto a pole
That goes from North to South.

And I suppose that this here way

Is the way to solve the riddle—
Just take an apple up, and thrust
A needle through the middle.
And what is it they won’t do next?
For now, Why, ’pon my soul
They say that larn’ed folks have tried
To find the great North Pole!

I’d rather stay upon the land

Than sail upon the sea;
Why can’t them folks just stay at home
And let the North Pole be?
Now I am kind of worried like
For fear some of those men
That’s sailing round and round the airth
Will find the pole and then

Some of them chaps who thoughtlessly

At common sense will scoff
Will take it into their wise heads
To cut the North Pole off!
And then what would become of us?
I’m sure I haint no notion—
I spose that we, the world and all
Would fall into the Ocean!

And what a bad thing that would be—

H d df l i h d
 How dreadful is the sound—
To let the world fall in the sea
And all the good folks drown’d!
I wish that them ere pesky folks
Would let the pole alone;
I think that they had better find
Some business of their own!

I wish some one would find them folks

And try and make them see
That they had better stay at home
And let the North Pole be!
If I should ever see them men
As sure’s my name is Joe
They’ll find what my opinion is
And I shall tell them so!
WHEN DADDY ROCKS THE KID
Little daughter, fair and sweet
With dainty baby charms;
Making every joy complete
As from mamma’s arms
Very tenderly she’s laid;—
(Mamma’s smiles are hid—
Sees the queer maneuvers made
When daddy rocks the kid!)

Darling, winsome as can be—

Blossom sweet and rare;
Hears the tuneful melody
From the rocking chair.
Never heard such songs before,—
(And guess he never did—)
Language new—and tunes galore,
When daddy rocks the kid!

Though forty times, ere day is done,

From work he homeward comes;
To hold his precious little one
And see it suck its thumbs—
Mamma, e’er with loving glance
Sees new charms amid
The beauties, Which the joys enhance
When daddy rocks the kid!

When daddy rocks the kid to sleep

He banishes all care;
And o’er his visage smiles will creep—
Contentment’s written there.
No worldly sorrows cast their shade
But vanish as they’re bid.—
A pleasing picture thus is made
When daddy rocks the kid!
STOP TALKIN’
When a feller gets his back up
And his temper’s in a muss;
If he keeps a peckin’ at ye—
Tryin’ hard to pick a fuss.—
Jest ye go about yer bis-ness.
‘Course its aggravatin’—but
Half the row will be averted
If ye’ll keep yer talker shut!

Shut yer lips together firmly—

Let the “other feller” groan,—
Soon ye’ll find the ranch deserted,
For he will not fight alone.
Ferocious bully’ll prove a coward,—
If ye swerve not from the rut
Of yer staunch determination
That ye’ll keep yer talker shut!

Talkin’ makes a heap o’ trouble

Out o’ nothin’, scandals great,—
As one gossip, then another
From the truth will deviate
’Till the color of the story
Darker grows—I tell ye what,
Wouldn’t be so many heartaches
If they’d keep their talkers shut!

Talkin’s right, if they would only

Try to smooth the weary way
Of some poor, lone, ship wrecked brother
And a word of comfort say
To the sick and weepin’ dweller
Of the rude and lowly hut.—
Then, yes, then, the time is for ye
Not to keep yer talker shut!

If ye try to see the many

Vi f f ll
 Virtues of yer feller men—
And yer kindly acts uplift him—
Ye are doin’ nobler, then
When to some heart yer words so cruel
Gives a deep malicious cut.—
If ye can’t speak words of kindness
Better keep yer talker shut!
Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.

More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge

connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and

personal growth every day!

ebookbell.com