By L. Frank Baum
Originally published in Songs of Spring, circa 1916.
Well, boys, our Claude has left us—
Of his comradeship bereft us—
Not because he tired of Uplift or found our fellows slow,
But his motor got erratic—
Missed and sputtered so emphatic
That it made him quit the running and he really had to go.
Where? Now, boys, evade that query.
To Some Place where souls as cheery
As that of dear Claude Raymond will find congenial joys;
Where his rag-time tunes, so snappy
And his smile, so frank and happy,
Have been welcomed by a merry crowd of sympathetic boys.
Don’t think of him with sorrow
For some day—perhaps tomorrow—
You and I may stand with Claudius upon that mystic shore.
And, eagerly advancing—
Never ever backward glancing—
Will sing our songs of fellowship and Uplift more and more.
A tear? Quick! hide the traitor,
For Claude has found a greater
Chance to uplift than our little band on earth can ever know;
So let’s think of him progressing
And enjoying every blessing
That’s due to those who nobly live while mortals here below.
It’s selfish to regret him
And though we can’t forget him
With ev’ry thought of Claudius we’ll mingle sigh and smile.
Good luck, dear friend, where’er you be!
We humbly bow to Fate’s decree;
The Peace we know that you have gained our sorrows reconcile
Of his comradeship bereft us—
Not because he tired of Uplift or found our fellows slow,
But his motor got erratic—
Missed and sputtered so emphatic
That it made him quit the running and he really had to go.
Where? Now, boys, evade that query.
To Some Place where souls as cheery
As that of dear Claude Raymond will find congenial joys;
Where his rag-time tunes, so snappy
And his smile, so frank and happy,
Have been welcomed by a merry crowd of sympathetic boys.
Don’t think of him with sorrow
For some day—perhaps tomorrow—
You and I may stand with Claudius upon that mystic shore.
And, eagerly advancing—
Never ever backward glancing—
Will sing our songs of fellowship and Uplift more and more.
A tear? Quick! hide the traitor,
For Claude has found a greater
Chance to uplift than our little band on earth can ever know;
So let’s think of him progressing
And enjoying every blessing
That’s due to those who nobly live while mortals here below.
It’s selfish to regret him
And though we can’t forget him
With ev’ry thought of Claudius we’ll mingle sigh and smile.
Good luck, dear friend, where’er you be!
We humbly bow to Fate’s decree;
The Peace we know that you have gained our sorrows reconcile
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, September 29, 1918
A Supposyville Shop
In Supposyville lane.
I wonder if possibly
I can explain.
’Tis kept by the quaintest
Old gentleman elf,
With all sorts of bottles
And jars on his shelf.
He sits in the doorway
And hammers and sings
And seems to be mending
Invisible things.
And over his shop
Swings a battered old sign,
With printing all crooked
And quite out of line.
And what do you ’spose
That old sign says? Why, honey—
You never have read one
So dear and so funny.
Pshaw! Listen to this:
“Dispositions repaired;
Bad habits removed;
Resolutions prepared.
“Cracked and broken hearts mended
And patience renewed;
Good tempers restored
And all wrinkles unscrewed.
“Please pay me in smiles.
Satisfaction assured—
There’s nothing too broken
Or bad to be cured.”
Many customers come—
And the merry elf swings
His little gold hammer
And whistles and sings,
And sends them off smiling.
I think I myself
Must drop in some time
On this dear little elf.
Copyright © 2025 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.
