“Those little girls will not forget
    The day little Hattie died,
  For she was with them when she fell in a fit,
    While playing by their side.”

Lois House, however, did not have to resort to any subterfuge.  The divine Providence spared her the trouble.  She had just married an exemplary young man, who “had courted her a long time in triumph and glee,” and

  “They loved each other dearly and never deceived,
  But God he did part them, one which he laid low,
  The other He left with his heart full of woe.”

The last verse almost has a touch of poetry in it: 

  “They placed her fair form in the coffin so cold,
  And placed there Joy’s picture as they had been told;
  They bore her to her grave, all were in sad gloom,
  And gently laid her down to rest in her tomb.”

In “William House and Family” she disposes of them collectively: 

  “They once did live at Edgerton,
  They once did live at Muskegon,
  From there they went to Chicago,
  Which proved their fatal overthrow.”

Pathos evidently appealed to Julia A. Moore in a way that was not to be resisted.  She was also very careful about facts.  For instance, what could be more explicit than these lines from “The Brave Page Boys”?

  “John S. Page was the eldest son—­
    Edward C. Fish was his brother-in-law;
  They both enlisted in the Mechanic,
    And served their time in the war. 
  Fernand O. Page was the second son;
    He served in the Third Infantry;
  He was wounded and lost both his feet
    On duty at Yorktown siege.”

Enos Page was rather unfortunate: 

  “In the Eighth Michigan Cavalry
    This boy he did enlist;
  His life was almost despaired of,
    On account of his numerous fits,
  Caused by drinking water poisoned—­
    The effect cannot outgrow;
  In Northern Alabama, I hear,
    Came this dreadful blow.”

In “The Grand Rapids Cricket Club,” one of the few poems that deal only with minor misfortunes, a certain player, Mr. Follet, tried a good remedy for a novel accident.

  “And Mr. Follet is very brave,
    A lighter player than the rest,
  He got struck severe at the fair grounds,
    For which he took a rest.”

I could quote from the Sentimental Song Book until I had entirely exhausted the material, and each verse would create a surprise.  And yet, in spite of the grammatical distortions, in spite of the sentimentality, there is something pleasing in the absolute unaffectedness of the little book.  That Mrs. Moore has been appreciated is borne out by the fact that when she travelled from town to town she used to be met at the station by a brass band or by a delegation of prominent citizens.  Wherever she went she was humored, and her numerous friends vied with each other in showing her attentions.  All this she took