Awhile back I digitized my grandmother Nora’s genealogy research. I uploaded many pictures to Flickr, fleshed out our family tree online, and am now planning to post much of the remaining work on this blog.
One of her artifacts was a rubbing of the headstone of my great great grandmother, Annorah Hayes. You can find a link to the scan at the bottom of this post. What follows is my transcription:
at sheboygan Wis.
Aug. 15, 1860
Apr. 30, 1889
A precious one from us has gone,
A voice we loved is stilled,
A place is vacant in our home,
Which never can be filled.
Annorah Hayes Headstone Rubbing (PDF, 6.3 MB)
I found the following scan of a poem in my grandma Nora’s notes, and decided to share for posterity as I couldn’t identify it with a Google search:
HOW RUSK COUNTY GIRLS KISS
The Appollonia girl bows her stately head
And fixes her stylish lips
In a firm, hard way and lets them go
In spasmodic little snips.
The Bruce girl removeth her specs
And freezeth her face in a smile
As she sticks out her lips like an open book
And cheweth her gum meanwhile.
The Warner maiden so gentle and sweet
Lets her lips meet the coming
With a rapturous warmth and the youthful soul
Floats away on a sea of bliss.
The Tony girl says never a word
And you'd think she was rather tame
With her practical view of the matter in hand
But she gets there just the same.
The Ingram girl, the pride of the West
In her clinging and soulful way
Absorbs it all in a yearnful yawn
As big as a bale of hay.
The Hawkins girl gets a grip on herself
As she carefully takes off her hat,
Then she grabs up the prize in a frenzied way
Like a terrier shaking a rat.
We have sung you a song of the girls who kiss
And it sets one's brain awhirl
But to reach the height of earthly bliss
You must kiss a Glen Flora girl.
With your arms 'round her waist, her face upturned
In a sweet confiding way,
You care not for the whole wide world
Though the wind through your whiskers play
And closer together you draw
Till they meet in a rapturous glow
And the small boy behind the fence
Cries, "Gallagher, let her go!"
Judging by some handwritten notes on the scan, I believe it was published in a book titled Wisconsin Folklore, by Walker Demarquis Wyman. The book appears to be out of print, but I was able to find (and order) a used copy on line.
Wyman, W. Demarquis. (1979). Wisconsin folklore. [Madison]: University of Wisconsin--Extension, Dept. of Arts Development.