Mother, Come Home, a poem by J.M. Cavaness

Mother, Come Home.

(Tune: Father, Dear Father, Come Home
With Me. Now.)
Mother, dear mother, come home from the club,
You promised to come home at five;
This club business, father in anger Just said,
He can not much longer survive;
He swore at us children and called us poor brats,
And furiously kicked poor old TraY,
And said since these crazy card parties began
The devil is surely to pay.
CHORUS: Come home, come home, come home,
Dear mother, please mother, come home.

Mother, dear mother, come home from the club,
You told me that you would come soon;
You won in the game, are you stfll in a fight,
And pulling hair over the spoon ?
I've labored so hard to tidy the house;
Our supper of cold hash is done,
And papa declares if you do not start now,
He'll come for you quick with a gun.

^__J. M. Cavaness.

Jayhawker Juleps
J. M. Cavaness
(Chanute: Tribune Pub. Co. 1913)
Page 48

Kansas: Poetry History Towns Counties Colleges Libraries Museums

February 18, 2003 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

Visit the Home Page for Kansas
A service of the Kansas State Library