At Home

He has been in all the Asias, he has visited the Nile, he has been in Dawson City and Cape Nome; he has cross the Alps and Andes, he has seen the Sphinx’s smile, but there’s lots of things he hasn’t seen at home. He has seen the fair Porto Rico, he has toured Panama, he has sat in silent rapture ‘neath a soft Italian sky; he has met the dukes and nobles in the many lands afar, but there’s lots of things he hasn’t seen close by. There is Bunker Hill for instance, there is good old Plymouth town, there is Salem and there’s good old Marblehead; there is Lexington and Concord where the stream comes winding down, and the bridge where his forefathers fought and bled. There is Gettysburg and Shiloh and there’s famous old Bull Run, there’s Niagara and the Rockies bold and high; there’s the Yellowstone and Libby and the Land of Light and Sun, and the Capital and White House handy by. He has toured late and early at a very great expense, up and down all foreign countries did he roam; he can make John Bull’s geography to feel like thirty cents, but there’s lots of things he hasn’t seen at home.

Aug. 20, 1904

                                Libby is a town in Montana.