A Lass, “Hilda” Alas!

Act I.

I had a girl her name was Hilda,

With loving kindness I most killed her;

We were steadies she and me

Just as happy as could be.

All my weekly wages went

Out to Hilda, every cent,

But I was quite satisfied

Since she was to be my bride.

Ne’er with harshness had I chilled her,

She my charming, steady Hilda.

              Act II.

Then, alas! came my disaster;

I was swift but he was faster.

In my joy and in my pride

I could not feel satisfied

Till I had my dearest chum

Meet my Hilda, bride to come.

So I had her dine with Newt

Who turned out to be a brute.

With his brightness he just filled her,

Won from me my charming Hilda.

              Act III.

Late I asked my one-time Hilda

Why the “All Sorts” man had thrilled her.

Said he was a dead-game sport

Of the reg’lar Boston sort.

Said his bare and shiny top

Made her think of her grand-pop,

He who was the greatest scad

Bingville township ever had.

Take her, Newt, and try to build her;

There is room for that in Hilda.

Nov. 2, 1910

Inside joke: Newton Newkirk, a fellow humorist and columnist, only for the Boston Post, was one of Joe Cone’s best friends.