Newspaper History

Category: Harrisburg Telegraph

  • Der Inspector

    From the Harrisburgh Telegraph, March 9, 1914. By Wing Dinger.

    Up in Albany der bunch
        Of Lawmakers got busy
    Discussing Tangos, Castle Walks
        Und other dances dizzy.

    Vun chap said, “Ugh, dey neffer saw
        Such sights in grandpa’s day
    As can be seen most any night
        About der cabaret.

    “You’ll see a couple slide about,
        Ven suddenly dey slip
    Und mit der knees dey hit der floor,
        Dat’s vat dey call der dip.

    “Or maybe in der middle of
        A dance der girl vill faint,
    Her partner holds her off der floor,
        But she unconscious ain’t.

    “Dat only is anudder stunt
        Dat makes der dance unique,
    Und dere’s a heap of udder dings
        About vhich I could speak.

    “But vat I want to say is dis,
        Dese dances shouldn’t be,
    So I vill resolution dat
        Ve name a Committee.

    “Und it vill go about der State
        Investigating dings
    About dese naughty dances, und
        Make some recommendings.”

    Und ven der news got spread abroad,
        Such crowds you neffer saw
    For jobs on der committee to
        Inspect dose dances raw.

  • My Little Boy

    From the Harrisburgh Telegraph, February 27, 1914. Translated by H. W. Ettelson, from the Yiddish of Morris Rosenfeld.

    I have a boy, a little boy,
        He is a youngster fine!
    Whenever I catch sight of him,
        I think the world is mine!

    But of him, precious one, awake,
        I’ve seldom, seldom sight.
    Most times I find him fast asleep,
        Just see him in the night.

    The workshop calls me early out,
        And late I leave the place;
    Ah, strange to me my flesh and blood,
        Ah, strange my own child’s face.

    I come through pall of darkness home,
        Fagged out and in a daze.
    And my pale wife to cheer me, tells
        Of baby’s cunning ways.

    How sweet he talks, how cute he begs;
        “Please mamma, tell me, do,
    When is dear daddy going to come
        And bring me a penny, too.”

    And hearing this, I dart away,
        For so it needs must be.
    The father-love flames passionate;
        “My child must, shall see me.”

    I stand beside his tiny crib,
        I see and ah, I hear,
    The little lips ask in a dream:
        “Where is my daddy dear?”

    I kiss his eyelids tenderly
        They open wide—sweet sight!
    They see me now, they see me now,
        But soon again shut tight!

    “Here’s father now, my one, my own.
        A penny for you, there!”
    The little lips ask in a dream:
        “O where is Papa, where?”

    I stand there stricken, deep-distressed,
        And speak in accents sore;
    “Sometime you’ll wake my child, alas,
        And find me here no more!”