Home

The road to laughter beckons me, The road to all that's best; The home road where I nightly see The castle of my rest; The path where all is fine and fair, And little children run, For love and joy are waiting there As soon as day is done.

There is no rich reward of fame That can compare with this: At home I wear an honest name, My lips are fit to kiss. At home I'm always brave and strong, And with the setting sun They find no trace of shame or wrong In anything I've done.

There shine the eyes that only see The good I've tried to do; They think me what I'd like to be; They know that I am true. And whether I have lost my fight Or whether I have won, I find a faith that I've been right As soon as day is done.

The Old-Time Family

It makes me smile to hear 'em tell each other nowadays The burdens they are bearing, with a child or two to raise. Of course the cost of living has gone soaring to the sky And our kids are wearing garments that my parents couldn't buy. Now my father wasn't wealthy, but I never heard him squeal Because eight of us were sitting at the table every meal.

People fancy. they are martyrs if their children number three, And four or five they reckon makes a large-sized family. A dozen hungry youngsters at a table I have seen And their daddy didn't grumble when they licked the platter clean. Oh, I wonder how these mothers and these fathers up-to-date Would like the job of buying little shoes for seven or eight.

We were eight around the table in those happy days back them, Eight that cleaned our plates of pot-pie and then passed them up again; Eight that needed shoes and stockings, eight to wash and put to bed, And with mighty little money in the purse, as I have said, But with all the care we brought them, and through all the days of stress, I never heard my father or my mother wish for less.