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 don'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'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.