. The Ottawan . Adt your home you vas all right,You could sthay oudt doors all night,Times vas yours, undt much delight,Dots home, my poy. If at High School you blayed ball,Teachers mind it not at all,Ven your grades haf start to fall,Dots home, my poy. But there to keep from gettin canned,You musz verk to beat der band,You vill den half got some sand,Adt colletch, my poy. All too soon dot home isz gone,Undt time brings dot vorld along,Tug undt sweat, no time for song,Dots verk, my poy. Ach! id isz one dreadful tale,Id most make dose fellers pale,But to cry isz no avail,Dots life, my

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectuniversitiesandcolle