The Evening Ledger (Philadelphia) of 21 July 1917 gave another poem featuring the ukulele. Tom Daly (the fellow who gave the word ‘frumgeous’ to the world) in his column lamented the death of a famous poet of the USA, and thus could not bring himself to play the happy ukulele.
The Village Poet
Whenever it’s a Saturday
I should address you tritely,
Or stroll on Chestnut street and play
My ukulele lightly.
I know, in spite of draft and war–
Of which we’ve had an earful–
I should permit my muse to soar
And warble blithe and cheerful.
But this is why my eyes are dim
And I am thrall to sorrow:
I’ve just read Whitcombe Riley’s ‘Jim’—
He’s dead a year tomorrow!
Sic transit gloria mundi.