Need Help Finding Old Poem And Author...

[CATLADY]

I'm rather "getting up there" as they say...having been born in 1910. I'm hoping a member of this group can help me find a poem I learned in 1918 and also recited in Albany, NY at an elocution contest. For the life of me, I DO NOT recall the title or the author, but in school, I think the teacher referred to the poem as either "My Sister Will Be Down in a Minute" or "Sister's Beau".
Here are the lines I remember:

My sister will be down in a minute
And says you may wait if you please
And says I may stay here with you
If I promise her never to tease
Nor speak til you spoke to me first

But that's nonsense..
Why how would you know just where to sit?
That chair hasn't any springs in it
And we never use it a bit.
We keep it to match with the sofa
But Jack says it would be just like you to
SIT yourself down upon it and knock out
The very last screw!

Suppose you try...I won't tell!
You're afraid to..
You're afraid they would think it was mean.
Now here's the photograph album
If you're sure that your fingers are clean.
Sister says sometimes I daub it
But she only says that when she's cross.
Now here's HER picture...you know it.
But SHE isn't very good looking at all..
Now here's ME...the best of 'em all
And the only one that could be bought...
At least that was the message to Pa
From the photograph man where I sat..
That he wouldn't print off anymore
'Til he first got his money for that!

(Pa says you're as poor as a churchmouse..
Now are ya? And how poor are they??)

(missing lines here that I cannot recall anymore

:-(()


Well, I must go...sister's coming
But I wish I could just wait to see
If she runs up to kiss you
The way she used to kiss Lee!!


Well...that's ALL I can recall at present but once knew it well. I always wondered who the author was and where to find the complete poem. If someone can help me with this, it would be very much appreciated. I also have another one that I recited, but do know the entire poem...just not the author and will post the poem later.

Thank you in advance for all your help. I have been searching the Net for some time for information on this funny and cute poem taught to me by my teacher, but haven't had any luck. Other poems I learned for elocution contests such as Lochinvar for which I won first prize and The Raven are so well-known, but these other poems remain mysteries as far as authors.

Thank you so very much everyone for your help. I have severe RA (rheumatoid arthritis, and when it hits my hands badly have trouble keying, but I do check messages daily.

Sincerely,

CATLADY (who has 17 cats and four dogs) :-))

[mono]

Hello, CATLADY, and welcome to the forum. :)
This has seemed a bit of a challenging search, and I found some possibly-maybe candidates for your search. Though I could find no specific poem of that name, or the precise lines, I found some references to the poet Bret Harte and a specific work called "Sister's Little Sister's Beau" by a comic and freelance writer named Winsor "Silas McCay, but I could find no evidence of poetry written by him.
Lastly, I found a reference to a poem called "Entertaining Her Big Sister's Beau" by Robert Frost, a well renowned poet. I could not find a copy of the specific poem on the Internet, but only someone referring to the poem; then again, Frost wrote a lot of poetry. I plan on visiting a very large nearby bookstore tomorrow, regardless, which likely has Frost's complete works, and will page through any book I can find for you.
I hope I have helped, but definitely visit this page again (tomorrow or the day after) for any updates, in case I have found the poem or not.

[CATLADY]

Hello mono!

I FOUND the poem by Bret Harte and also found that I DID remember most of the lines after all these years!!

It was in a book called "1883 Treasures From The Poetic World w Biographies"
and was printed in that year. Presently, I began working on "Project Gutenberg" that is dedicated to getting ALL old books on line for others to read. So...I am proofreading this old book of WONDERFUL poems a bit at a time to help preserve our heritage as many books have been destroyed and are no longer in print.

I've also had a contact from the old Binghamton Public Library (now destroyed and replaced by a new one :-(( ). Years after I left the area and married, the library "threw out" nearly ALL the old books kept in their basement area. :-(( Isn't that dreadful?? It made me SO ANGRY!!! GRRRR!! And SAD...:-(( I believe the poem was contained in another area under an entire volume by Bret Harte entitled "Little Miss Posterity", and have a few people at a college in Binghamton, NY (my hometown) doing some research at the college library where a few people took many of the discarded books.

When we DO get the entire volume of poetry listed on Project Gutenberg, I will let you know. Anyway....the poem has nothing whatsoever to do with Robert Frost...although I've read most of Frost's poems and am well acquainted with him. Oh...we also found a "salesman sample" listing of books and poems available back in the late 1800's for schools and private homes which we also intend on putting on Project Gutenberg.

Hope anyone else interested in Bret Harte or his "missing poems and stories"...many of which ARE NOT easily found will read this post!!

CATLADY

[mono]

Wonderful and congratulations, CATLADY! :D
The poem truly stumped me, and I do not hesitate in saying that I searched around a few bookstores and libraries; perhaps I looked in all of the wrong places. At least you found it, nonetheless; it puts my concern at peace. :nod:

[Marieliz]

Hello I am a new member here and finding my way around little by little.
I am looking for the full poem/recitation written by George Barlow 1847-1913, entitled 'The Compact' which I understand was contained in a volume entitled 'From Dawn Till Sunset'
The first couple of lines read as follows -
'If only I were a man' she said 'what wonderful deeds I'd do' With a general's plume, and a coat of red, I'd harry my foes ...
If any one knows the whole I should be so pleased to find it again after forty years. Many thanks in anticipation,
Marieliz.

[Scheherazade]

I am looking for the full poem/recitation written by George Barlow 1813-1947 He lived for 134 years? :D

[Marieliz]

A mistake, 1847-1913
Marieliz.

[GrizzBear]

I just transcribed this text off a recently discovered family archive. My great-grandmother had recorded a recitation of "My Sister's Beau" in 1952!

Cat-Lady, your inquiry greatly eased my work with this poem. I joined the forum to thank you. Also, if you still have the poem, I would appreciate your help to decipher one unintelligible phrase in the 7th stanza.

Thanks very much,
Grizz

______________________________
My Sister's Beau

My sister will be down in a minute
And says you're to wait if you please
And says I may stay till she came
If I promise her never to tease

Nor speak till you spoke to me first
But that's nonsense,
For how would you know what she told me to say if I didn't.
Don't you really and truly think so?

And you would feel strange here alone
And you wouldn't know just where to sit.
For that chair isn't strong on it's legs
And we never use it a bit.

We keep it to match with the sofa
But Jack says it would be just like you to
Flop yourself right down upon it
And knock out the very last screw!

Suppose you try... I won't tell. Oh, you're afraid to.
You're afraid they would think it was mean.
Well, then there's the photograph album; that's pretty
If you're sure that your fingers are clean.

For, sister says sometimes I daub it,
But she only says that when she's cross.
There's her picture. you know it?
It's like her, but she hain't as good looking, of course.

This is me; it's best of 'em all.
Now, tell me, you'd never have thought
That once I was (?_unintelligible_?).
It's the only one that could be bought.

At least that was the message to Pa,
From the photograph man where I sat,
That he wouldn't print off anymore
'Til he first got his money for that!

What, maybe you're tired of waiting.
Often, she's longer than this;
There's all her back hair to do up
And all her front curls to frizz.

But, it's nice to be sitting here talking
Like grownup folks, just you and me.
Do you think you'll be coming here often?
Oh do, but don't come like Tom Lee.

Tom Lee, her last beau...
Why, my goodness, he used to be here day and night
Till folks thought he'd be her husband
And Jack said that gave him a fright.

But, you won't run away then, as he did.
For you're not a rich man, they say.
Pa says you're as poor as a churchmouse.
Now are you? And how poor are they?

Ain't you glad you met me?
Well, I am, for now I know your hair isn't red
And what there is left of it's mousy
And not what that naughty Jack said.

But there, I must go; sister's coming,
But I wish I could wait just to see
If she ran up to you and kissed you
In the way that she used to kiss Lee.

[doyoulovejesus]

Hello fellow readers,
My dad is going to be 90 years old and wanted me to see if I can find a poem for him. I googled everwhere with no such search. Can you help? ok the poem goes something like this.
Author: Mary Steffans Hartley
"The Captain"
The Captain born in Providance
became a man of prominance
because he took a notion
to the ocean
when but three
he sailed the seven seas did he
from amafest to hoftany (DONT THINK THATS THE CORRECT SPELLING)
though on land he steady
he still ready for the sea
he spent winters in
THATS ALL I CAN GET HIM TO SAY
HHHHHHHEEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!

[TRiffe]

I am looking for a poem that I read over 50 years ago. To the best of my recollection, the poem began, "Tom Turkey was worried, late news made him quake, Thanksgiving he heard, meant his life was at stake". He planned an escape and was eager to try it, with courage and hope he proceeded to diet. He ate less and less, knowing as he grew thinner, that birds must be plump for this annual dinner." That's all I can remember. I would love to share this with my grand-daughter. If anyone remembers the poem or knows where I can locate it, please let me know. Thank you.

[TRiffe]

I am looking for a poem that I read over 50 years ago. To the best of my recollection, the poem began, "Tom Turkey was worried, late news made him quake, Thanksgiving he heard, meant his life was at stake". He planned an escape and was eager to try it, with courage and hope he proceeded to diet. He ate less and less, knowing as he grew thinner, that birds must be plump for this annual dinner." That's all I can remember. I would love to share this with my grand-daughter. If anyone remembers the poem or knows where I can locate it, please let me know. Thank you.

Is there anyone who is familiar with this poem?