Jingles booklet, written by Arthur Rodman in 1916, page 23, The Traveling Man

    THE TRAVELING MAN
  (As seen by one who is not.)
See that bunch of traveling men,
  Jolly fellows all;
Some are young and some are old,
  Some are six feet tall.
What a time those fellows have,
  Sit around and talk;
Take a bus from every train,
  Never have to walk.
Call on merchants every day,
  Ask them what they’ll have;
Some sell coffee, some sell thread,
  Some are selling salve.
Trains are always right on time,
  Ride in parlor cars;
Always cheerful, bright and gay,
  Nothing ever jars.
Gets fine meals three times a day
  At some fine hotel;
Always gets a room with bath, –
  Gee, but this is swell.
Always sits up late at night,
  Playing pool or rhum.
Making dull care chase itself
  Into kingdom come.
Sleeps till after ten o’clock
  Almost every day;
Eats his breakfast in his room
  From a silver tray.
Always gets a pleasant smile,
  Never gets a frown;
Never even hears a kick,
  Never gets turned down.
Gets commissions on his sales,
  And a salary;
I shall be a traveling man,
  That’s the life for me.

Jingles booklet, written by Arthur Rodman in 1916, page 24, The Baby

          THE BABY
There’s the sweetest little baby
That has come with us to stay;
She’s so dear you want to hold her
In your arms the live-long day.
She is nearly always sleeping,
And can hardly stay awake
Long enough to take some dinner
For her little tummy’s sake.
When she opes her little eyelids,
And is gazing all around,
You can see a look of wonder
And a puzzled little frown.
There! She’s going back to Dreamland
While her little body grows,
From her pearly, dimpled cheeklets
To her pinky, tiny toes.
I do wonder what she’s dreaming,
Far away in Babyland.
Is she hearing fairy stories?
Music by an Elfin band?
Soon she’ll know her loving sisters,
And admiring brother, too;
Soon she’ll know her mother’s calling,
And will answer with a “Goo.”
Soon she’ll toddle all around us,
Often getting bruise and fall;
Soon she’ll be a little tyrant,
Ruling daddy and us all.
All too soon she’ll be a-primping–
Blessings on each stubborn curl;
Then here’s to the little stranger
Blessings on thee, baby girl.

Header Photo: Chicago 1916 Vintage Postcard