K.L.F.—­Who wrote the following and what does it mean?

“Oh, de golden wedding, Oh, de golden wedding, Oh, de golden wedding, De golden, golden wedding!”

ANSWERS

“WHEN GRANDMA WAS A GIRL”

LUTHER F. NEAM, Flushing, L.I.—­The poem asked for by “E.J.K.” was recited at a Free Soil riot in Ashburg, Kansas, in July, 1850.  It was entitled, “And That’s the Way They Did It When Grandma Was a Girl,” and was written by Bishop Leander B. Rizzard.  The last line runs: 

“And that’s they way they did it, when Grandma was a girl.”

Others who answered this query were:  Lillian W. East, of Albany; Martin B. Forsch, New York City, and Henry Cabot Lodge, Nahant.

“LET US THEN BE UP AND DOING”

Roger F. Nilkette, Presto, N.J.—­Replying to the query in your last issue concerning the origin of the lines: 

“Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate.  Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.”

I remember hearing these lines read at a gathering in the Second Baptist Church of Presto, N.J., when I was a young man, by the Reverend Harley N. Ankle.  It was said at the time among his parishioners that he himself wrote them and on being questioned on the matter he did not deny it, simply smiling and saying, “I’m glad if you liked them.”  They were henceforth known in Presto as “Dr. Ankle’s verse” and were set to music and sung at his funeral.

“THE DECEMBER BRIDE, OR OLD ROBIN”

Charles B. Rennit, Boston, N.H.—­The whole poem wanted by “H.J.O.” is as follows, and appeared in Hostetter’s Annual in 1843.

  1

“’Twas in the bleak December that I took her for my bride; How well do I remember how she fluttered by my side; My Nellie dear, it was not long before you up and died, And they buried her at eight-thirty in the morning.

  2

“Oh, do not tell me of the charms of maidens far and near, Their charming ways and manners I do not care to hear, For Lucy dear was to me so very, very dear, And they buried her at eight-thirty in the morning.

  3

“Then it’s merrily, merrily, merrily, whoa!  To the old gray church they come and go, Some to be married and some to be buried, And old Robin has gone for the mail.”

“THE OLD KING’S JOKE”

F.J.  BRUFF, Hammick, Conn.—­In a recent issue of your paper, Lillian F. Grothman asked for the remainder of a poem which began:  “The King of Sweden made a joke, ha, ha!”

I can furnish all of this poem, having written it myself, for which I was expelled from St. Domino’s School in 1895.  If Miss Grothman will meet me in the green room at the Biltmore for tea on Wednesday next at 4:30, she will be supplied with the missing words.