This poem was tucked away in an envelope. I'm not sure if it is one poem or two, and what the Bunker Hill Monument has to do with Syracuse is beyond me. There was no title, so I gave it one. The photos give you a sense of the carefree college days of Moon and Herbert. Rue de Crouse refers to the avenue and the venerable Richardson Romanesque structure, Crouse College, built in 1888, that was home to the College of Fine Arts when Moon was a student. Such carefree days changed forever when Herbert was called up for the Army and sent to France, and Moon was unable to claim her scholarship to study abroad in 1919.
Dreaming of Herbert Campbell
Mary Wands Campbell ca 1917
Syracuse University
Last night I lay a dreaming
There came a dream so fair,
I dreamed I saw the Rue de Crouse
And Campbell standing there.
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| Herbert Campbell |
As he stood among the sunshine,
A-tying on his hood,
The monument of bunker hill
Fell on him as he stood.
The sidewalk was an awful mess.
The household flocked to see
The pulverized anatomy
That Campbell used to be.
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| Herbert boarded at the McViccar household, that is him, the tall one at the back. |
We gathered Campbell up with care
And with a garden rake –
We did it not for love of him –
But for his mother’s sake.
And all the world seemed bright + gay
Our hearts were full of glee,
We packed him in a sardine can
To ship him C.O.D.
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| Herbert's friend Paul Vickland |
Then up spoke the mighty Vickland
As he stood on his bended knee –
“Oh, who will lend me thirty cents,
To buy a wreath for he?”
And answered all the hearers-by,
“Your credit’s on the blink!
We wouldn’t trust you half an inch
With such a bunch of chink!”
And Vickland’s woe as he turned to go
Was pitiful to hear.
The sighs came rolling down his cheek
He heaved a mighty tear.
So, over the hills to the poorhouse
He departed far away.
All weary and broken hearted
And was seen no more for aye.
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| That's Herbert, second from the left. Note the racy pinups on the wall -not! |
Of all the boys that are so smart
There’s none so sweet as Don,
His hair all brushed, his teeth all combed
His new B.V.D.s on.
We’ll slam him on the sniff-sniff
And knock him galley-west
We’ll pull his lovely curly hair
And jump upon his chest.
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| Moon, second from left, and Herbert at the center. |
Oh, we’ll spoil him!
We’ll wreck him!
And when the fray is o’er
I will take a broom + scrubbing brush
To clean him off the floor.
But went he in the cold blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea –
The angry air, for all we care,
Might go upon a spree.
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| Moon made these characters she called "Emerson" |
Our Emerson he’s locked in a suitcase,
Our Emerson he’s locked in a trunk,
They have taken him to keep him
And mourn his life away.
As he spoils mid the rubbish + the junk
We dream of Emerson by night
We think of him by day,
And nothing but the Constable
Can drive our care away.
Us.
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| "Our Little Wandsy" - Moon strikes a pose. |
