Scope and ContentWHAT HO, MY ANCIENTS! BY AN ANONYMOUS CONTRIBUTOR. What ho, my Ancients ! Attend me, I pray, For faro would I sing you a song of today! The hired man asks, "Where in hell's Dingleville? And what's Greiner's solaces-a Bible or pill?" (Alas! I can't tell him-I wasn't here then, When Wallin and Greiner were stalwart young men.) But, Sires, do you heed me and take it for fact, The old place is changed like the head of a tack That's aimed at by woman, and altered so much That even it's maker won't know it as such. (Aye! Leave it to woman to ring in the changes! Man but proposes it's woman arranges !) The old harbor's gone. The new pier's where they fish from. But the old swimming hole is no place for a Christian. And cuddle pups snuggle all over the town There's snuggle 'pups more than enough to go 'round. (Hist! The Old Landmark already his sounded retreat, And the editor works with his back to the Street!) Our highways are plastered with signs that foretell That in so many miles there's a certain hotel; And the fence corners roost a dozen or more Shouting the praises of garage or store. (There's one near the factory--with tin on the back- "Eat Crow or Stay Home"--or something like that.) Aye, gaffers, the old town has changed quite a bit. The women wear "britches" that give one a fit. The prices are higher than Mount Baldy's dome, And keep on a-climbing till the crowd's started home. (Labor Day ends it--they flock back pell-mell; As Chicago Sam Says, "Then it's duller than hell!")