Alan L. Strang

Written for the first thrift stamp drive. I want to be a soldier And march away to France;

Written for Decoration Day, May 30, 1918. I wove me a wreath of flowers To place in memories hall,

Do not worry over trifles, though to you they may seem great, All your fretting will not help you,

Away o'er the hills in the valley green Away from the noise of the busy town; I dream sweet dreams of the olden days

Our loved ones lay them down to sleep And leave us here to grieve and mourn, While we, our silent watches keep,

Written when the clock was set ahead one hour on April 1, 1918. Our Rooster wakes at half-past five And crows with all his might,

Masata was an Indian boy, he lived on the banks of the Ohio River in Kentucky. During the Revolutionary War in 1771, the Americans were taking over the land very fast, and when Masata was ten years old his

Written after the United States entered the war, fighting on the side of the Entente Allies. Halt! Attention! Salute the flag, The boys are marching by;

Written as a tribute to my brother, W. M. Strang, with the Engineers. He said, "I'm Daddy's soldier boy," When he was five years old;

I've a lily of the Valley That I'm keeping here for you; I care for and protect it,

I have roses in my garden, And their fragrance fills the air. How I love to watch them blooming;

SPRING Spring time is here with its sunshine and showers, All nature is waking from its long winter sleep.

The rough old Mr. Storm Is whirling, swirling past He makes the treetops bow their heads

This little book's a letter, I send direct to you; I hope that you will like it,

A BIRTHDAY WISH. I'm wishing a happy birthday, To you my dear sweet friend;