A Boost for Modern Methods

In some respects the old days were perhaps ahead of these,

Before we got to wanting wealth and costly luxuries;

Perhaps the world was happier then, I'm not the one to say,

But when it's zero weather I am glad I live to-day.

Old-fashioned winters I recall — the winters of my youth —

I have no great desire for them to-day, I say in truth;

The frost upon the window panes was beautiful to see,

But the chill upon that bedroom floor was not a joy to me.

I do not now recall that it was fun in those days when

I woke to learn the water pipes were frozen tight “again.”

To win once more the old-time joys, I do n't believe I'd care

To have to sleep, for comfort's sake, dressed in my underwear.

Old-fashioned winters had their charms, a fact I can n't deny,

But after all I'm really glad that they have wandered by;

We used to tumble out of bed, like firemen, I declare,

And grab our clothes and hike down stairs and finish dressing there.

Yes, brag about those days of old, boast of them as you will,

I sing the modern methods that have robbed them of their chill;

I sing the cheery steam pipe and the upstairs snug and warm

And a spine that's free from shivers as I robe my manly form.