Knapp Family Journal 1916-1924

The following is a transcript of the “Journal of Emma Beatrice Primley Knapp from 1918-1924”, which we call the “Knapp Family Journal 1916-1924”.

Emma Beatrice (Primley) Knapp was wife of James Knapp Jr., and daughter of Robert and Kathryn Primley. She was also the mother of Allen, Nora Mae, Loyd, Wayne, Melvin, Robert, Clayton, and Maurice Glen.

Myrtle Primley gave this journal to her “crippled sister” while the Knapp family was living in Taylor Rapids, Wisconsin, a tiny village surrounded by logging camps in Northern Wisconsin, north of Athestane and south of Goodman. Today, the area has reverted to wild forest land owned by Marinette County. It remains alive through the writings of sons, Wayne Knapp and Robert Knapp, who wrote many tales and books of their memories of growing up in Northern Wisconsin.

The following contains recipes, quotes, and the personal stories, notes, and writings by Emma and her children, along with a few friends and relatives. The title of the journal states it covers from 1918 to 1924 but there are date references to much earlier. Whether these are references to dates or the actual time of the writing are sometimes unclear.

The book is an old, thin ledger book which consists of the first few pages being an explanation of “Parcel Post or Fourth Class Mail” regulations and laws as set by the US Postal Service, and other business laws and guides which I’ve not transcribed.

Much of the writing is done in pencil, which has been rubbed or thinned over the years in places. The journal was “much loved” by the entire family and neighbors, with children of all ages reading, writing, and drawing in it. There are notes all over the pages, written over the top of other writing, in the margins, along page edges, upside down, and in between many drawings of the hands of children. Poems, songs, and diary notes fill every page.

Some pages have been torn out. We don’t know what was on them and can make many assumptions, but for now, they are lost to time.

When it has been possible to identify the handwriting and drawings of family, neighbors, visitors, and friends, we’ve done so. The following names are found within the journal:

Emma Knapp, Myrtle Primley, James Knapp, Nora Mae Knapp, Loyd Knapp, Melvin Knapp, Wayne Knapp, Robert Knapp, Allen Knapp, Ruth Primley, Nora (Cunningham) Merrifield, Naomi Wilson, Leta Wilson, Lola Charles, Gilbert Charles, Seeley (Seals/Sealey) Primley, Dora (Stibbe) Primley, John Gritzon, Mrs. Bullion, and Elizabeth Brandt/Brantt/Brau Knapp (mother-in-law of Emma).

Notes to the Transcription

Part of the challenge of transcribing and publishing this journal is to distinguish between who wrote what, and who is the author of original or copied content. When possible, I’ve identified the original author as the Credit. Attempts have been made to cite each original source and author when possible. To help identify the handwriting, if known, I’ve noted that as Handwriting by.

I’ve also digitally enhanced the drawings to increase contrast and visibility as the pencil sketches have worn down and are very light.

Since there is little order to how this journal was written, I’ve changed the order in this transcription to be more readable. When possible, a chronological order has been maintained. When not possible, like items have been grouped together. Spelling has been left intact, corrected only where it helps the reader understand the context.

Family Record and Other Dates of Importance

One of the most fascinating parts of the journal is the page in the back of the journal with the facts of the family. Handwritten by Nora Knapp]

Dated this twenty-seventh day of Mark 1917

Emma Beatrice Primley was married to James A. Knapp at Crivitz, Wisconsin, September the eleventh, nineteen hundred and one. To them were born the children whose names and date of birth are as follows:

Allen James Knapp, 12 of Sept. 1902, Loomis
Nora May Knapp, 28 of Aug. 1904, Faunus
Melvin Edward, 28 of July 1906, Wausaukee
Loyd Darrel, 30 of April 1908, Cedarville
Clayton Leroy Knapp, 29 of Sept. 1910, Wausaukee
Robert Francis Knapp, 20 of Jan. 1913, Wausaukee
Wayne Primley Knapp, 31 of Dec. 1914, Wausaukee
Maurice Glenn Knapp, 4 of Aug. 1923, Green Bay

Clayton Leroy Knapp
Age 7 mos, 22 days, Died May 20, 1911

Mrs. Emma B. Knapp, born at Morgan, Wis., March 19, 1886
James A. Knapp, born at Denver, Colorado, Jan. 2, 1868

Allen Knapp operated on for appendicitis Feb. 7, 1912 became paralyzed in right limb Sept. 1915.

Dedication

Presented to my crippled Sister this ninth day of March one thousand and nine hundred and sixteen. For her special benefit.

Witness my signature
With best wishes
Miss Myrtle Kathryn Primley

Let not your heart be troubled for in my Father’s house there are many mansions.
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Bible: John 13:31-38 and 14:17.]

A.S.S.C. B.D. Hatton, Vancouver, Wash.

Barking Dogs Never Lie.

Hand Tracings Part I

April 1, 1916
Hand of Robert F. Knapp, age 3 years, 2 mos, 11 days

March 26, 1917
Hand of Wayne P. Knapp, age 2 years, 3 mos
Taylor Rapids

Hand tracings of Robert Knapp and Wayne Knapp, June 10, 1917, Sunday
And Darwin Wilson, a little mason, age 1 yr. 1 mo. 21 days
Dec. 8 1917 Taylor Rapids

Naomi Wilson and Miss Leta Wilson’s hand tracings

The Children

June 20, 1916

I. When the lessons and tasks are all endid.
And the school for the day is dismissed.
And the little ones gather around me
I bid me good night and be kissed.
Oh, the little white arms that encircle
My neck in a tender embrace
Oh the smiles that are haloes of heaven
Shedding sun-shine of joy on my face.

II. And when they are gone I sit dreaming,
Of my child-hood to lovely to last;
And the fountain of feeling will flow.
Of the love that my heart well remembers
When it wakes to the nulty of the past.
Hear the world and its wickidness
Made me a portion of sorry and sin
When the glory of god was about me
And the glory of gladness within.

III. Oh, my heart grows so weak as a woman’s
And the fountain of sorrow will flow.
When I think of path steep and strong
Where the feet of the dear ones must go.
Of the mountain of sin hanging o’er them
Of the tempest of fate blowing wild.
Oh, there’s nothing on earth half as holy
As the Innocent heart of a child.

IV. There are Idalos of heart and house-holds.
They are angles of god in disguise.
His sun-light still tresses.
His glory still gleams
In their eyes.

Oh, those turante from home and from heaven,
They make me more manly and mild
And i know how Jesus can liken the kingdom of God to a child.

V. I ask not a life for the dear ones
All radiant as others have done
But that life may have just enough shadow
To temper the glare of the sun
I would pray god to guide them from evil
But my prayer will come back to one.

Ah! A sinner can pray for a seraph
But a sinner must pray for him self.

VI. The twig is so easily bended
I have banished the rules and the rod.
I have taught them the goodness of knowledge
My heart is a dongeon of darkness
When I shut them from breaking a rule
My frown is soficient correction.
[Handwritten by Nora Knapp. Credit: Original copy The Children By Charles Monroe Dickinson, reprinted on Bartleby.]

Mar. 31, 1916
Mert made beautiful ??? for mother.

Taylor Rapids, Wis.
July 30, 1916

[Grocery List]
lard
oat meal
flour
milk
sugar
potatoes
stamps
B. pwd
rice
tapioca

Don’t be so foolish! Ha Ha some day you will know

Jim began work at Bird Center Jan. 15, 1917

March 27, 1917
Mert is trying to use some big words. No matter how you try. O mush!

“He that reapth recurrent wages,
And gather the fruits
Go ye also unto the vineyard
Unto him be glory in the Church by
Christ Jesus through out all ages
We trust in the living God who is the savior of all men
Especially of those that believe.”
[Biblical Quotes from Matthew 20:4 and I Timothy 4:10, handwritten by Emma Knapp]

When the harvest moon is shining.

Love not sleep, least thou come to poverty.
[Bible Proverbs, handwritten by Emma Knapp.]

A hubby at home is worth two that roam.

May your virtues ever shine,
Like blossoms on a pumpkin vine.
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Howe Autograph Book by “Lizzie”, October 12, 1891.]

January 15, 1917
Any fool can please a woman, but it takes a wise man to keep her pleased. – Whell now [illegible]
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp.]

“Do all the good you can
By all the means you can
In all the ways you can
At all the times you can
To all the people you can
As long as ever you can!!
[Handwritten by Nora Knapp. Credit: Original or unknown.]

A Christmas Quary

That I am to speak Christmas. Nora.

Oh, the merriest time of all the year.
Say all little girls and boys
Is when the dear Christmas tide draws near with all of its jingles and joys,
And when the school lets out for a week or two
So the children may snow-ball and skate,
And start snow soldiers in battle review.
Awaiting their awful fate.

I.
They coast down the hill on their sleds so gay
Build snow men of wondores size.
While where the snow drifts the deepest lay
Tall ramparts now suddenly arise.

II.
And the children storm them in battle array
Till their charge is turned into a rout
And the brave deffendors who held them at bay
Their victory proclaim with a shout
And when at knight the wind flowing cold
Piled the snow drifts higher and higher
Quaint stories by old folks and children are told
As they gather within round the fire.
Cracking nuts, popping corn, singing songs so gay
As they watched the flames roll up the flew
As if they were having a romp and a play.
Ah, this is a fairy land through.

III.
But what is the use of my trying to tell all the things that he girls and boys do
On this beautiful yuletide we all love so well for you were children once too.
But the jolliest of all of these joys
Is when in my stocking I see
All the beautiful presents, the books and the toys that Santa has left their for me.
[Handwritten by Nora Knapp. Credit: Original or unknown.]

Life’s Joy

God gives us joy that we may give
He gives us love that we can share
Sometimes he gives us loads to lift
That we may learn to bear.
For life is gladder when we give
And love is sweeter when we share
And heavy loads rest lightly, too
When we have learned to share
[Handwritten by Nora Knapp. Credit: Anonymous.]

No light do we need to guide us
Save that of friendship dear
Trough trouble and core betide us
We all welcome it with cheer

While hope and the smile of comrades
Turn night into joyous day –
in the morning’ flowing sunshine
Let us linger while we may

Here’s to the man whose vision
Is clear enough to see
And who says: What is wrong for the rest of the throng
Is certainly wrong for me.

Here’s to our boyhood chum you recall
The sincerest friendship of your youth.
Here’s to the sweetest sweet heart of them all
You’ll all say I’m telling the truth.

Here boys is one to our mother
Jan. 15, 1917
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Unknown.]

Life is but a working day
Where tasks are set aright
A time to work, a time to pray
And then please God a quiet night.
N.K.
[Handwritten and credited to Nora Knapp.]

March 26, 1917

Keep your face always toward the sunshine and the Shadows will fall behind you.
[Credit: Walt Whitman.]

Hew to the line!
Let the Chips fall where they will.
[Credit: Bible, Joshua, old exhortation.]

Don’t look for flaws as you go through life
And even tho you find them
Be wise and kind and somewhat blind
And look for virtues behind them = March 26, 1917

Weary of living, so weary
Long to lie down and die.
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Unknown.]

March 26, 1917, Monday eve.

“Truth is stranger than fiction.”
[Credit: Mark Twain.]

Trifles make perfection and perfection is no trifle.
[Credit: Michelangelo.]

Jim came home and began cutting kiln wood March 27, 1917
The snow is most gone. It is storming today.
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp]

Whoever you are be noble,
Whatever you do, do it well
When ever you speak, speak kindly
Give joy where ever you dwell
N.K.
March 27, 1917, Tues.
[Handwritten and signed by Nora Knapp. Credit: Original or unknown.]

Mother’s Day
May 11, 1917

“Be ye kind one to another.”
[Credit: Bible Colossians 3:13.]

Beautiful hands are those that do
Deeds that are noble, kind and true.
Busy for them the long day through.
[Credit: McGuffy’s Second Reader.]

Beautiful faces are those
That wear the light
Of a pleasing spirit there
It matters little if dark or fair.

And truly beautiful in God’s sight
Are the precious souls who love the right.
[Credit: Bible Ezekiel Chapter 21.]

Flag Day 1917

What do we plant when we plant the tree
We plant the ship that will cross the sea
We plant the mast to carry the sales
We plant the plant to wist and the gales.

Flag Day, June 14, 1917, Thursday
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp.]

Glyem Spurr Train Derailment

Friday P.M. July 20, 1917
The four spot was derailed at Glyem Spurr. Caused by some person opening the switch halfway. No one was hurt. A week afterwards they pulled it out of the mud and began fixing it up. About 2 months later it was at work again “Better in health than ever.”

“When the War Will End”

October 29, 1917, Monday

Absolute knowledge have I none
But my aunts, washer woman’s son
Heard a policeman on his beet
Say to a laborer on the street
That he had a letter just last week
Written in the finest Greek
From a Chinese collie in Timbuktu
Who said the blacks in Cuba knew
Of a colored man in a Texas town
Who got it straight from a circus clown
That a man in Klondike heard the news
From a gang of South American Jews
About someone in Borneo
Who heard of a man who claimed he knew
Of a swell society dame
Whose mother-in-law will undertake
To prose that her seventh husband’s sister
Has stated in a printed piece
That she has a son who has a friendship
Who knows when the war is going to end.
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Slightly different version of the poem “When the War Will End” by Reginald Arkell.]

When Their Ma Goes Away

I.
Allen and Melvin and Nonie and Loyd
Are the very best children I know
They work from morning until night
Altho’ they’re very slow.
They do not quarrel, they do not fight
They do not run and play –
They always stick around
And work and work all day.
When their ma’s away, they do not play.

II.
Their meals oh um’ They’re very fine.
They’re very find indeed –
They have trout for every meal
And never are in need.
Their uncle on Sunday knight stayed with them you see.
And started in the morning for camp at half past three
It’s cheerful smile and happiness all three.
The live-long day
When their ma’s away, they do not play.

From N. and L.
[Handwritten and credited to Nora or Loyd Knapp, brother and sister.]

When this cat’s way, these kittens won’t play –
A, M, L, N, R, W

Spring

By Nora Knapp

I.
Now winter is gone
Spring has appeared.
The birds have come back,
The garden’s being cleared.

II.
The flowers are in bud,
The birds are singing gay
And the frog
Sings a song.
[Handwritten and credited to Nora Knapp.]

April 23, 1916 Easter

(The Lord has risen indeed)
“He is the resurrection and the life.”

O Sore, the need that some must know
While journeying through this vale of woe
Dismayed, disheartened, gone astray,
Caught in the thickets by the way
Fro lack of just a little light
To guide their wondering steps aright.

It may be little we can do
To help another, it is true
But better is a little spark
Of kindness when the way is dark
Than one should walk in paths forbidden,
For lack of light we might have been given.
E.B.K
April 23, 1916
[Handwritten and signed by Emma Beatrice Knapp. Credit: Possibly credited to J. Thompson of England in a poem called “A Little Light”. Elsewhere it appears uncredited but published.]

“Be filled with the Spirit speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns
And spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the lord.”

“Giving Thanks Always”

Resurrection

Death casts his shadows over all
He sits at every board.
He coveth the poor man’s nite
And every miser’s hoard.
Man meeteth death on every hand
And baffled cryeth he
“If this must be the end of all
Then where for life for me?”

For Answer look the lilies
Lately seared by winter’s cold.
For answer springs a new the grass
in every vale an wold.
For Answer hear the risen Christ
His Greatest Promise give
Who so believeth, though he die
Yet shall always live.

Though who didst rise on Easter morn
Triumphant o’er the tomb.
Grant us the strength to rise
Always, o’er doubt, despair and gloom.
And may we rise on that last day
Thy promise to partake
And stand all glorious with thee
When all the dead awake.
E.B.K.
April 26, 1916
[Handwritten by Emma Beatrice (Primley) Knapp. Credit: Unknown, possibly original.]

Baby

Only a baby small
Drop from the skies
Only a laughing face
Two sunny eyes.

Only two cherry lips
One chubby nose
Only two little hands
Ten little toes.

Nora
[Handwritten by Nora Knapp. Credit: Unknown.]

Garden Waters

toys y’s
U.R. Toy y’s
U.B. I.C. U. R.
to y y’s
for me.
To XX U.R.
To XX U.B.
C.C.U.R to
XX for me.
XX for me.
[Handwritten possibly by Nora Knapp. Translation: Unknown.]

Souvenir of Frog Pond City

April 23, 1916
Souviner of Frog Pond City

Emma, Start Writing

March 10, 1916
I must begin to write something in this book or Merl will have a cat fit. She is getting ready for bed and so being invisible. I will try to scratch a few lines to please her.
[Handwritten by Emma Knapp.]

March 19, 1916, My birthday
Mother Flint came over and brought me a bottle of beer. Oh, um, it was good. Mother Flint was here to dinner. Merl washed her hair, preparing to go to Crivitz tomorrow.

Hand Tracing Part II

Hand tracing of Lola F. Charles
March 19, 1916
Age 5 yrs. 1 mos.
By Aunt Emma

How much more useful and happy a life becomes when its days and weeks and years are bound together by a worthy purpose.

Forming a good character is better than reforming a bad one.

In Lilac Time

Just such a day as this perhaps
Of mist and driving rain
A hundred years ago they stood
By this old window pain.
Two covers leaning here to gaze
Together at the rain.

Perhaps it was the lilac storm
As now Look! Lo you see
The lilac branches toss and wane
Their plumes on every tree?
Whom are they beckoning to
Unseen by you and me.

I think the fire blazed on the hearth
As now right cheerily
Your portraits on the wall then fresh
Looked down benignantly
And then I think she raised her eyes
To his quite suddenly.

Two lovers leaning here to look
Out of the self-same pane
Down the broad old gravel walk
Splashed with drops of rain
That dripped from off the lilacs
Or dashed against the pane.

And when they dropped as suddenly
Upon the window pane
His heart began to beat so fast
He could not hear the rain
Or see the purple lilacs brush
Against the window pane.

There drops the curtain dear!
We have no right to look again
At those old lovers leaning there
Forgetful of the rain
Yet see two names and here’s a date
Scratched on the window pane.
[Credit: Unknown.]

Let us take care how we speak
To those who have fallen in Life’s Field.
Help them up not heap scorn upon them.
We did not see the conflict.
We do not know the scars.
[Credit: Unknown.]

A beautiful face is the gift of god but a fine character, good manners, poise, and self possession, a pleasant voice, and charming personality are things that may be acquired and when acquired, they are so valuable that mere beauty sinks into insignificance. It is an old saying and a true one that beauty is only skin deep, while goodness goes to the bone.
[Credit: Unknown.]

Two eyes are shining filled with pain.
Two hearts are pining all in vain.
Two lips are calling font good-byes.
Two tears are falling from two blue eyes.
[Handwritten by Myrtle Primley, circa 1916. Credit: Unknown, possibly original work by Myrtle Primley, sister of Emma (Primley) Knapp.]

Roses and Thorns

I plucked a rose by the wayside.
It was sweet and fragrant, too.
A lovely crimson beauty
All glistening o’er with dew.

How pleased I felt as I held it.
How perfect in every part.
Yet I paused and wondered softly
If it was perfect in its heart.

Then a feeling akin to sadness
Stole o’er me while standing there.
Who need I look till I found them.
Why spoil such beauty fair.

I knew that along with its beauty
There were thorns hidden there.
Why need I look for a blemish
It was sweet and wondrous fair.

I wondered again, yes, I wondered
As I held that rose in my hand.
If God made anything perfect
That lived or grew on the land.

I know when I look for beauty
I can find it on every side.
Again if I seek for perfection
I can look both far and wide.

So I’ll keep the rose that I gathered
Never think of the thorns again.
And I’ll never seek perfection
As I know I’ll seek in vain.

Myrtle Primley, April 9, 1916
[Handwritten by Myrtle Primley. Credit: Unknown, possibly original work by Myrtle Primley, sister of Emma (Primley) Knapp.]

Little Bits of Song

Sometimes the task is doubly hard
The day seems over long
Tis then I make myself forget
With little bits of song.
I sing of woodlands dark and cool
Of blue skies far above
Or maybe from my lips there come
Some little notes of love.

I have no voice for song they say
That matters not to me
When in my heart the music throbs
And words come merrily.
My songs are for myself alone
Of my own self apart.
If they bring cheer then atone
For what they lack of art.
[Handwritten by Myrtle Primley, circa 1916. Credit: Unable to find citation otherwise, so possibly original work by Myrtle Primley, sister of Emma (Primley) Knapp.]

August 4, 1916
In your chimney of affection
Please consider me a brick.
Grace Olson
[handwriting appears to be Nora Knapp or Emma Knapp. Credit: Either written by Grace Olson or credited to Grace Olson. Unclear from text.]

August 22, 1916
When will I see you again, Dear sister?
May you still improve in health, soul and body.
Nora Merrifield
[Handwritten by Nora (Cunningham) Merrifield, James Knapp Jr.’s half sister.]

Always leave the cellar where it belongs and never let yourself have an accident.
Bob.

[Handwriting by “Bob”, unknown person and different from other writing styles. The signature “Bob” looks like more of someone writing a name and doodling than a signature of a person.]

One by one we miss the hand clasps.
That so warm a welcome gave.
One by one we miss the voices
In the silence of the grave.
No one hears the door that opens
When they pass beyond recall
Soft as loosened Rose leaves
One by one our loved loves fall.
Then cheer up dear heart nor murmur
But believe in God’s own Way.
There will be a glad reunion
Where all tears are wiped away.
Jan. 15, 1917
Frog Pond City
E.B.K.
[Handwritten, signed, and possibly originally written by Emma Knapp.]

We often praise the evening clouds
And birds so gay and bold
But seldom think upon our God
Who tinged the clouds with gold.
[Handwritten possibly by Myrtle Primley. Credit: Sir Walter Scott.]

Meet Mother in the Sky

Apr. 19, 1917
Thursday

In a lonely churchyard, many miles away,
Lies your dear old mother, ’neath the cold, cold clay;
Mem’ries oft returning of her tears and sighs,
If you love your mother, meet her in the skies.

= Chorus =

Listen to her pleading, “Wand’ring boy, come home,”
Lovingly, entreating, do not longer roam;
Let your manhood waken, heav’nward lift your eyes;
If you love your mother, meet her in the skies.

Now the old home, vacant, has no charms for you;
One dear form is absent, mother, kind and true;
Evermore she dwells where pleasure never dies,
If you love your mother, meet her in the skies.

= Chorus =

Now in true repentance to the Savior flee,
He Who pardoned mother, mercy has for thee;
Now He waits to comfort, He will not despise,
If you love your mother, meet her in the skies.

= Chorus =

[Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Song, “Meet Mother in the Sky”, author unknown but arranged by W. S. Nick­le in 1899.]

The Old Song

4/19/17

A wandering fox was a’ weary
The sun was sinking low.
When tender the voice of a singer
Unseen set his heart a-glow.
It softened his sin-hardened spirit
A nothing had done before
For often his mother sung it
To whim when the day was o’er.

O where is my boy tonight?
Upon the soft breeze sang
My heart over flows for I love him
He knows, the hidden singer sang.

He thought of the mother who loved him
Then rising his eyes to the savior
He prayed for release from sin
I’m coming to thee, dear mother.
With joy in his heart he cried
Your wandering boy’s returning, and
Jesus is at my side.

[Appears to be Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Unknown.]

[Drawing by Nora Knapp titled “Dear Mother”.]

Only A Message from Home Sweet Home

“It’s only a message from Home Sweet Home
Form loved ones down on the farm.
Fond wife and mother, sister and brother
Praying to guard me from harm
And baby is lisping a prayer tonight –
To bless me where e’er I roam
We’ll welcome you, Jack,
If you’ll only come back.”
Was the message from Home Sweet Home

April 18, 1917, Eight P.M.
[Appears to be handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Lyrics from “Only A Message from Home Sweet Home,” a song hit of 1905 written by Carroll Fleming.]

When I Dream of Old Erin

When the nightingale’s singing its sweet melodies,
And the scent of the flowers perfumes the night breeze,
Then I dream of my old home far over the sea,
By the Lake of Kilarney,
Where I long to be.
And I see you, it seems, waiting there on the shore,
Where together we stray’d in the sweet days of yore,
I am thinking, tonight, of my Colleen so true:
When I dream of Old Erin, I’m dreaming of you.

I can see the old cottage, just o’er the hill there;
‘Tis those fond recollections bring happiness rare.
Sure the lassie I love with a heart that is true,
She is waiting for someone,
While someone waits too.
And my love’s growing stronger each day, more and more,
‘Tis the same old love story that’s told o’er and o’er,
So, cush-la my Colleen, it seems that you knew,
When I dream of Old Erin, I’m dreaming of you.

When I dream of old Erin I’m dreaming of you,
With your sweet, roguish smile and your true eyes of blue;
For my love, like the Shamrock, each day stronger grew;
When I dream of Old Erin, I’m dreaming of you.

[Appears to be Handwritten by Emma Knapp. Credit: Song, “When I Dream of Old Erin (I’m Dreaming Of You)” by Marvin Lee and Leo Friedman in 1912.]

Where the Silvery Colorado Wends Its Way

August 18, 1917

The twilight softly gathered
‘Round my home among the hills
And all nature soon will settle down to rest
While I sit and sadly ponder
And my heart with longing fills
As I often think of one that I love best

We were wedded in the springtime
And our hearts they knew no pain
Fair nature seemed to smile on us that day
Now she sleeps beneath the lilacs
And she’ll ne’er come back again
Where the silver Colorado wends its way

There’s a sob on every breeze
And a sigh comes from the trees
And the mocking birds they sing a sadder way
For the flowers creep no more
‘Round my cheerless cabin door
Where the silver Colorado wends its way

The silver snow is gleaming
On your distant mountainside
Where often used to wander Nell and I
And the birds are singing gaily
In the valley far below
Where I long some day to lay me down and die

Then our lives were gay and happy
In the shadow of the hills
My heart beats fonder for her day by day
And I feel her presence near me
As I sit alone tonight
Where the silver Colorado wends its way
[Handwritten possibly by Nora Knapp. Credit: Song, “Where the Silvery Colorado Wends Its Way” by Charley Scoggins]

Butterfly Bright

Oh butterfly bright with your beautiful wings
That are painted the colors of lovely things
So fair and so tendar they carry you high –
Way over the blossoms they flutter by.

Oh, butterfly fly bright you be welcome I know –
If you’ll come to my garden where sweet flowers frown.
My posies are nodding, a wonderful sight.
Won’t you come lovely butterfly, aerie and bright.
[Handwritten and signed “Naomi Wilson, Dec. 4, 1917. Credit: Unknown.]

Roses

Roses grow in my garden fair
A sweet reward for all my care.
Growing so sweetly in rain or sun,
I love them, every one.

Lilies growing in my garden fair,
Shedding rich perfume upon the air.
Growing so sweetly in rain or sun,
I love them, every one.
[Handwritten and signed “Naomi Wilson, Dec. 4, 1917. Credit: Unknown.]

Easter Time

December 4

The little flowers came through ground
At Easter time, at Easter time,
They raised their heads and looked around
At happy Easter time.

The pure white lily raised its cup
At Easter time, at Easter time.
The crocus to the sky looked up
At happy Easter time.

Twas long and long and long ago
At Easter time, at Easter time,
And still the pure white lily rise
A happy Easter time.

(Chorus)
Happy Easter time, happy Easter time.
For Christ is rise the angels say
At happy Easter time.

And every little bud did say
Good people bless this holy day
For Christ has rise the angels say
At happy Easter time.

By Naomi Wilson
[Handwritten by Naomi Wilson. Credit: Thanks to Susan K. Haynes for helping us identify the author of this poem/song. She says it is a childhood song by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards. The original is found in the book, In the Nursery as the poem, Easter Time, though it is slightly different than the one transcribed here.]